Collected Poems 2011
Richard Cheesman
Published by Richard Cheesman at Smashwords
Copyright 2011 Richard Cheesman.
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Poems:
The Sky Fell
It’s Not Quiet Here
Fanboy Rant
The City Surf
Pripyat
Tune
The Lost Road
Where Do They Go?
Blooming Cold
Drowning, Not Waving
Led Astray
I Don’t Hear So Good Any More
My Dog Sits
About the poems
I tend to have moments where I don’t just want to write fiction. I’ll write some poetry instead. Over the course of the last year, I wrote and published many poems on my blog, and have put them all into this ebook collection. Many are short poems, such as The City Surf, The Lost Road, Led Astray – all poems which try to deal with a small, simple concept, an exercise in putting an idea across to the reader. Other poems are longer, and some are personal in nature. Pripyat is one such poem, about someone who wants to deny the home town and the stigma of being a child survivor of Chernobyl. Why – I don’t know, but some may feel like that. Drowning, Not Waving is a personal account of my near-death experience of drowning. I Don’t Hear So Good Any More is a personal reflection on my persistent hearing loss and tinnitus that I have to deal with on a daily basis, in every conversation I have. Some other poems are just humourous, such as Fanboy Rant and My Dog Sits.
I hope you enjoy these poems, regardless of their length, topic and meaning. To simply read a short poem can inject thoughts into your mind to think upon for the day, or just be a distraction from day to day life. If you do enjoy these poems, please consider leaving some feedback on Smashwords, it would be greatly appreciated.
The Sky Fell
The
sky fell, the moon hung
still, the stars spun
away from
sight.
Waxing crescent turned
crimson red. Setting sun
fell
from the horizon,
and the cold
took over planet earth.
It’s Not Quiet Here
It’s
not quiet here, in this mind,
there’s always sound,
the
constant drone,
the pitched whistle.
No.
It’s
not quiet here, in this mind,
never heard a word,
or caught
that shout, and,
did you really whisper?
Despite that.
It’s
not quiet here, in this mind,
my silent world,
is always the
opposite,
sound always exists.
It’s
never quiet here, in this mind,
except the only time,
the same
time, every day,
when I am asleep.
I
hear perfectly then,
and I miss it all anyway,
because my mind
is elsewhere,
dreaming dreams.
Fanboy Rant
Even
though I never saw
the original cinematic release,
I think
that
the trilogy should have
been left exactly that.
Okay,
grumbling, cautious, I
accepted the fact that you changed
a few
mistakes (Jabba being the
obvious one) and
expanded some scenes
where you needed more rebel ships to destroy the death star.
Special
effects were harder back then.
At least that improved things.
Then
you did it again.
Special edition DVD!
Ultimate Edition DVD!
Collectors Special Edition Restored Footage with New Edits and Sensory Overload DVD – 5-Disc set!
I
really didn’t
want to watch it
for the changes you made
so
I didn’t bother.
And as for that second trilogy.
I cried.
Now,
you’re just not learning,
you’ve changed,
changing it all
again,
messing with cinematic history -
the ambiguity -
is
he silent?
Or does he need to say those unnecessary words:
‘Noooooooooooooooo!’
Let’s leave it alone.
You’ve ruined the perfect father/son moment.
The City Surf
The
city surf,
it’s ebb and flow,
life and soul,
the hopes and
dreams,
of people
living, working,
playing,
all found
here,
amongst the city turf.
Pripyat
When
people ask me where
I come from I would
lie, telling them I
was
born in their town.
I
don’t want them to know,
never wanted to show,
where I come
from.
I’ve
denied home from my
mind, gone for many people
who can never
consider
returning to their town.
We
can never return home,
not even for a while,
we lost
everything.
When
I grow up, maybe I
will tell people the truth
about where I
came from, but
it’s not their town.
My
home is a ghost town.
Empty except for belongings
of those who
left their town.
Tune (Haiku)
Rhythmic
beats
Loud music pounding,
Bass vibrates.
The Lost Road
I
wander the lost road,
how I found it, I do not know,
where it
leads, I do not care.
Where Do They Go?
Where
did the day go?
It seemed like hours ago,
That it was early
morning,
I was waking and yawning.
Where
did the day go?
Lunch felt like minutes ago,
Cooked food ready
at table,
A walk later if I’m able.
Where
did the day go?
The sun has already sunk low,
Grey skies are
now darkening,
Lying in bed now pondering,
Where did the day go?
Blooming Cold
Pass
me the box of tissues
I’m about to let out a sneeze.
Close
all the windows my dear,
I feel I’m going to freeze.
My
throat is dry like desert sand,
the pain is bad to bear.
Another
pastille to suck on,
and feeling worse for wear.
At
least my nose does not stream so,
and shivering I am not,
if I
have a blooming cold,
then why do I feel so hot?
Drowning, Not Waving
I
fell, tumbled or possibly even slipped
off the bank into the
churning waters below.
I’d closed my eyes, that moment to blink
and
seeing again, my world had suddenly changed.
I
gulped in shock or surprise only to find myself
unable to breathe
the water that now encased me.
It took a moment, seemed like
longer to realise
that I was in a place I wasn’t supposed to be.
I’d
worn a jacket that day, a heavy bomber coat
now losing the air
contained within it’s fibres.
It became heavier, more burden
than fashion, harder
to fight the downward spiral of underwater
current.
Fighting,
struggling, I failed to breathe. Until finally
gasping for air,
coughing, retching and shouting even,
reached the surface of the
gloomy green waters.
Utterly spent, I slipped into the cold
embrace once more.
Exhaustion
crept in, thought turned to despair,
would I ever escape the
weir’s liquid vortex?
Underwater it had started with panic, yet
now I felt
acceptance and calm of my potential mortal fate.
They
say that your life flashes before your eyes,
but for me it was
very different. All I saw was
my life not over yet, the
realisation of more to live.
Drowning had taken an emotional and
physical toll on me.
A
friend passed along, thought I was larking about,
I screamed
obscenities at him, pleading for help.
Grabbing a stick, he
rescued me, and I sat at the edge,
shivering, shaking, wrecked and
deeply disturbed.
Led Astray
Led
astray
by the siren’s call.
Beautiful, yet
haunting,
enticing, although a journey to doom.
I Don’t Hear So Good Any More
I
don’t hear so good any more,
my ears don’t work as they
should,
it’s like being trapped underwater,
hearing a dog
whistle all the time.
Please
be patient with me,
it’s hard to understand you,
when you
talk away from me,
where I can’t see your face
or watch your
lips form the words.
I’m
easily confused and misunderstood,
you can’t see my
disability
that pulls me down to dark despair or
makes me
choose to ignore you.
You
think you’re frustrated with me?
It’s very much the other way
when you
say it again,
and again,
and again,
and
the fourth time you just give up and I miss the punchline
to a
joke everyone else has laughed at.
I
love one thing about my lack of hearing,
I don’t have to put up
with wasted words,
other things nobody really wants to hear
anyway
but pretend to,
in
the hope they are somehow affirmed
by words that really mean
nothing.
At
least,
I can still hear something
and I should be grateful for
that.
For that, I am.
My Dog Sits
My
dog sits
on the biggest chair
of our room.
She
is the queen
of all she sees,
watching,
and ruling
over
everything.
At
least, that is,
until the cat comes in.
About the Author:
Richard is male, mid-thirties and happily married and owns a lovely pet collie. He enjoys spending time writing, reading and eating home-cooked food. He's rather good at that too.
Look out for more short stories coming to Smashwords soon.
Alternatively, you can follow him on twitter: http://www.twitter.com/rich_cheese to hear any announcements about new works.