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Best Poems Written by Karen Cleaver-Bascombe

Below are the all-time best Karen Cleaver-Bascombe poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Karen Cleaver-Bascombe Poem

Diaspora, Can'T Go Home

Diaspora that cant go home

Mum and Dad came on boats not grand
They left the sun behind
To the old country to lend a hand
replacing uncertainty and find
Prosperity, erase the poverty of native land
And we’ll send money back home.
They were met with sticks and stones
Were broken, not just their bones
Wogs and minstrels they were called
In Harsh winters and damp ghettos hauled,
unfamiliar foods and hapless children 
Tears flowed inside and years out,
From broken ribs phlegm does spout
Husband’s and fathers ruled with fists
Paraffin fires took lives of kids
Benefits to small to feed and clothe
Necessitate a hustle to cope
And depression became the  reward
Misery slapped hard  onto every face
No pubs to ail our weary souls
This old country is a hard hard place
Welfare killed all dreams and hopes
Drugs and anecdotes became our lot
Newer immigrants got the jackpot
Penniless and broke, Too ashamed to go home
No riches to share, not welcomed, disowned.

Details | Karen Cleaver-Bascombe Poem

Don'T Forget That We Were Happy

Don't forget that we were running in the rain.
I know sometimes there's pain.
Don't forget how we laughed 
And how we danced.
Things weren't always where they've pranced.
Don't forget that we were happy 
Don't forget how we baked
And ate and were happy
Don't forget the how we love each other
How we were in our own world 
Don't forget all the places we traveled to
All the ruins we walked on an learned
And how the sun did burn
Don't forget all the foods
We tasted and made
And lemon-mangoade
Don't forget our fancy breads
And our spa nights, me rubbing your head
When the remains of the day offer darkness
  claim the morning and lunch
And planted flowers by the bunches
And remember the many happy times, blue ice cream lines 
And please don't forget that we were happy.

Details | Karen Cleaver-Bascombe Poem

Train To White City

Slouching on the evening train
Ravelling through old anxieties,
It better than eye contact with robots
Haplessly Shuffling on and off 
The deepest and fondest memories appear
Through the thorny ripples of mind
Speeding down memory lane
First memory, first bike, first bruise
First Day of school, no front teeth
Fast forward to first date, 
Sloppiness of that first awkward kiss
First love pangs of distress
Until at last your realize
You passed your flaming stop.

Details | Karen Cleaver-Bascombe Poem

Welcome To City Estate

Somewhere in the dungeon of my soul 
was a memory I supressed, 
and a song, a scent 
reignited the place and time long forgot.
And I remember leaving the cocoon we called home 
I remember moving to city estate
A communist Block of dingey brick hopelessness
Four stories of balconied flats
Assaulting the horizon with their oppressive ugliness.
I remember unwrapping cotton striped sheets
Claiming a new bed and a corner
In one of four bedrooms
Floors concrete with grey linoleum
the coldness hurt my feet
I remember the pink woolen blankets and the hard grey blankets from council.
Upon opening an obtuse door,
 a boxy toilet with an exterior exhaust spinning, 
and chain hanging down behind the toilet bowl 
The room was always unspeakably cold, 
always had to strain to use it.
A kitchen with two windows onto balcony
And a meter for adding coins to buy gas, for bath and cooking
I remember the bathroom separate from toilet 
a rectangle room with a bath tub and face basin.
With a noisey point of use gas furnace for hot water. From any part of the miserable flat you can hear the flames heating up water,
And also always unspeakably cold.
I remember the massive parifin heaters that burned all through the night, the soot and the glare
Only the living room had central heating,  a one buyer gas grate that heated the living room
I shed many tears on the concrete balcony staring at countless hapless pensioners and dolers alike
Faces stamped on hard with one expresion, hopeless resolve.
Our flat was on the third floor 
Past ground, one was fine, two thighs burning, 
three, always the stench of stale piss in puddles
Not on the wall like men do,
No these depositors stooped to render their rank fluids on the middle bank of the flight of steps,
 a little privacy there.
I would never call this place home
Like a prison I would merely bide my time and fly away.

Details | Karen Cleaver-Bascombe Poem

Pour Tu Amour

So here I am again
Waiting on a deadly train
Facing raw elements freezing rain 
Storming in heart and brain 
I want time to go away
And blackness to soothe
I wish I could hit replay
And erase the memory of the day
We met,
Pray let me forget. 
You wrecked my heart and soul in vain 
Going round and round in circles
Dropping crumbs to be found
Going in going out
Of sanity and of doubt
You talk about your death
And where I'd find your will
I may not survive you
Leave it on the window cill
I'm hiding in the dark
In the dungeons in my mind
Safer there from all the demons
in you I find
Not even the bairns 
Have refuge from your rage
You crushed us all
With your iron boot
For intrigue on your stage.

Details | Karen Cleaver-Bascombe Poem

It Snows Outside

It snows outside 
The flakes float down 
Feathery lights 
ride Lazy winds abound
 And nowt can stop their descent.
 In passions breeze
 In mechanical slants 
In natures sneeze 
And passive plants 
nowt can stop their descent.
 As walkers pause 
And shovels part
And children cause 
Figurines to start 
And nowt can stop their descent.
 With singing lungs 
We hold our breaths
 And fight against
 Our smoking jests 
And nowt can stop their descent.
 In these Moments 
I stop and stare 
Timeless portents to love and dare 
And nowt can stop this descent.
 With frozen limbs 
Is my embrace 
With icey things 
Is my caress 
And nowt can stop this descent.

Details | Karen Cleaver-Bascombe Poem

Close the Door Behind You

Close the door behind you
You had no busuness in these gardens
You were not of my choosing
Yet you accused me of the using 
For every deed and act
I paid in full and retract
You bulldozed your way in 
And caused destruction 
You relished your self made confusion 
And blamed me for your down fall
I didn't help you up
I didn't help you fall
I left you alone to crawl out of the mess you made
And when all was said and done
You kept asking me
If I ever missed those days
Did I love your ways
And I said now as then 
Close the door behind you.

Details | Karen Cleaver-Bascombe Poem

Time and I Don'T Matter

Time and I don't mater
The masses come
And they depart
Countless new arrivals
And time and I don't matter
Airplanes come
And yonder go
And they here
And thither go
And time and I don't matter.
Always passed
 without a thought
Always lost
Though we never fought
And time and I don't matter.
Spent and wasted
In unwise ways
Sadly realized
At the end of the days
And time and I don't matter. 
We spend out time
Ever going away
And the world will continue 
Wasting away
Because time and I don't matter.

Details | Karen Cleaver-Bascombe Poem

Number 59

I sat here when the sKY was hue
Until it was a golden day,
I welcomed in the sun and moon
Collected the morning dew. 
We loved and loved the joy away
Kissed away the rainy day,
Were fulfilled and overflowed
Yet never satisfied
Never unified
Always harmonized
But never realized
We were all we could be
Just growing stronger
Lasting longer than the the rest.

Details | Karen Cleaver-Bascombe Poem

Darkness

My life is in a dark room
No one to nurse or aid me
No one but the souls
Of miserable spirits
And hate from deep within 
Imbedded in memories and thoughts 
No one to hear my cries
Except darkness
My old friend
And to darkness I turn
For help