50 Ways in Which I love Her

Those fingers and toes – that’s twenty
Her neck and her nose – There’s 2
Her belly
Her hair
Her smile
Her flair
And of course how she Shares
I love you.

By now you may count almost 30
Plus I argue her ‘Love Yous’ worth double
Then here is one more
I assure you, worth four
How she know’s
Every time
When there’s trouble.

From 50, we’re now left 16 (ish)
As my lovers
Hot love
Makes the chart
Some might find me smutty
To point out the putty
My mens-rea, tho’s to
Illume
Love’s dark art!

My ways carry on
Thru this dubious song
Which reminds me
My love birds warm trill
Humming when she finds happiness
When life is less a mess
Her’s the voice of the angels
A pill

Her giggle
Her get up
Her phobias
Like drinking and smoking
And shops
The way she finds worry
In the doe eyes of love
And that peak that she rides
And how quickly she
Stops.

So already we’re in the top 5!
Though I’d happily drone till you’re bored.
From the arch of her brow
To the grace in her swing
And her lips,
bitten tender in thought

The second spot’s filled by her breasts
And you might think that bawdily stark, but…
The point of this poem
The top of the chart
Is her forever surprise that she’s stolen my heart.

Local Cafe

This bubbling hubbub of babies and boobies
This packed rack of scooters, of trikes and of buggies
Steaming hot flat-whites and freezing cold smoothies
And tapas treats, chocolate sweets, all kinds of lovelies.

Here where the roads cross, facing the old cross
Where crosswords fill time or just buoy the headline’s dross
Where pizza gets eaten by Saturday dads
Where Friday lunch mums dish the news good and sad.

This raucous in calm, our oasis of mania
Awaits you in plain sight down Beckenham high street
The pit at the back for your kids to go batty in
Entices the spectrum of lively South London in.

 

 

 

about: Deli nene

The Last Word

These fucking fuckers
Fucking up our lives
For their personal stake
In our political state
Sucking our lives dry
Leading fates awry
Leaving fears to dry

And this comment’ry
That comedy
Which tries to make it seem alright
Is now as bad
And ignorant
As the fuckers so merrily fucking us
So shame on me
for plugging in
For staying tuned and trying
How sorely fucked the feeling is
As wit washes over this fucking
It’s us,
it’s you,
it’s me
That’s really surely fucking up
I hardly ever knew the game
Yet know that I’m now
Royally f**ked

 

She says different

This isn’t mixed messages
She only sends out one
It’s long and convoluted
And sits uneasy on the tongue
But
It’s just the same
It always is…
Her conciliatory song
That i love you
That I’m a little bit worried
That she’s not sure who’s right
Nor what is wrong
As I waste what we’ve been given
Charting courses, this stagnant race,
As we writhe in guilt
Or fake and wait,
consumed in lies through lost nights due embrace
Her voice as calm as stone
Embittered, pleading not be left alone
There is a light that glances us
In loves fine spirals
Leaving some sweet trace…

Your Music of Play

Hum you hum
As you break the bricks
Building your buildings
And cracking your tracks
I love listening
As you do what you do
Dreaming big dreams
And making amazing
The trains, the robots
The castles and cars
A world in our front room
Stories tall in stars

Lostening

We blink at each other
thru some fug of confusion
The slow eyeball roll
to a grasp for conclusion
I hear your noise distant
As when wisps of mists cloud
All the words that you say
And I blink in ascent

Some time some time ago
we sang the same lyrics
Your accented verbs
lit my mind with loves fire
Attuned to the vibrant chords
Lept from your full lips
I wondered the musical
majesty of breath

Yet here we sit side by side
Tone deaf and mystified
Straining to glean
just a semblance of sense
I hear you, don’t get me wrong,
My ears are not yet deaf
What i hear is not quite though what your tongue likely meant

Blackfriars Vocal

The monthly Open Mic poetry session, run at Blackfriars Settlement, is on again! 

This time we are sneaking two into June though!

Come join in the celebration of words in the soul of Southwark on Friday 2 June. Doors 6.30 – mic goes live at 7pm! The next one will be Friday 30 June, same times!

You are welcome to read your own, share your favourites or simply let the poems lift you with their unique take on our lives.

Find out more at facebook.