Life all around us
Welcome to Urban poems. Real life. Real words. Poetic flow.
08 April, 2006
Hospital Corners
Wednesday, feeling Ok today
Just another ordinary day
Washing up to do,
Bills to pay
Jump in the Honda
It starts Ok
Drive to get to B from A
Later I'll throw the rubbish away
Oh and send a hello text to Tae
Nothing special ever happens anyway.
I'm bleeding, I'm bleeding
I don't feel steady
Quick, get me to A & E
There's bloods and lots
And it's coming from me
Help! A doctor, a nurse
ANYBODY!!
Stay over night at the hospital?
Just for observation
Nil by mouth?
But that means an operation.
Saline drips and my consent
By contractural obligation
Heat in my heart
Heavy from past tragedy
This place holds dark memories
How did this happen to me?
Hospital corners sulkily
Lure me into their false security
One general anastetic later
Two pints of blood and
No packets of crisps allowed in theatre
I retire to my sistas sofa
Just till I recover.
On Saturday I stumble over
To my house
Wednesday clothes in my
Asda bags, all hanging out.
My bed is warmer
Without hospital corners.
'Hospital Corners' © by Deborah aka: UrbanPoet
04 April, 2006
Extra Strong Sainsbury's Carrier Bag
Hey I was just wondering....
What type of person actually
Buys extra strong carrier-bags from Sainsbury's
Those bads are heavy and when they rustle
They have bass as well as treble.
To me the extra strong bag represents
An important investment
Twenty pence well spent
But when I'm at the check out packing groceries,
I'm never tempted to buy one
I just double the flimsies
Cos at that point twenty pence
Just represents
Another expense
And lack of commitment
To this shopping extravegance
That I know I can't finance.
Especially when I'm praying to the
Debit Card God
To authorise this sale and get me a better
Paying job
So although I know I would like to own and refill
An all singing, all dancing, bass and treble thumping to kill,
Heavy, remixed, extra strong carrier
From the Sainsbury's till
Although I'd like to own one...
I know I never will.
Deborah, aka:UrbanPoet
Don't Diss Me
You know when you're feeling a bit low, maybe having a bad day, and then some one comes along and instead of making you feel better and throwing u a lifeline.... they put a foot on your head? Well here's what I had to say....
I don't need you
To help me
Make me
Feel bad about
Me
I'm a past master
At disaster
I don't need no
Company
Who gave you
The authority
To drill me with
Insecurity
And to laugh at
My inabilities
STOP!
Comparing me to
Her and her and him
and that and this
and you
I'M ME!
Born free and
Happy, with my own
Complexities.
Love them and then
You'll love me
For me
In my entirity
By Deborah, aka:UrbanPoet
I don't need you
To help me
Make me
Feel bad about
Me
I'm a past master
At disaster
I don't need no
Company
Who gave you
The authority
To drill me with
Insecurity
And to laugh at
My inabilities
STOP!
Comparing me to
Her and her and him
and that and this
and you
I'M ME!
Born free and
Happy, with my own
Complexities.
Love them and then
You'll love me
For me
In my entirity
By Deborah, aka:UrbanPoet
03 April, 2006
Computer Love
Computer love
how come we haven't even met
haven't even smelt your freshness
brushed your hand,
had voice recognition yet
how come I've been to bed
and haven't slept yet
can't get u up outta my head
what's next?
this poem, then a txt?
Don't worry I ain't obsessed
Won't be boiling bunny's, dread!
But do want to taste your breath
See you smile, touch your chest
And not over the damn internet!!!
This is Urban Poet in full effect
Peace! I gotta jet.
Mona Lot
Mona Lot
Jaded is my identity
Now aged thirty-three
A house...
A car...
A kiddie
No man to take care of me
But c'mon this ain't the 1950's
Got a career, earn my own damn
money
Up every morning at 5:30
Back to bed at 5:33
Five more minutes to unfreeze
Need to leave by 7:15
Beat the slow moving,
Knee shaking,
Come on move it
Car and tube rage boiling in me
Work...
Home...
Sleep...
Bills...
All keep
Me in my groovidity
But think the laser's stuck
Messin' my CD up
Makin' me Mona Lot
Time to step it up
Deborah, aka: Urban Poet
Jaded is my identity
Now aged thirty-three
A house...
A car...
A kiddie
No man to take care of me
But c'mon this ain't the 1950's
Got a career, earn my own damn
money
Up every morning at 5:30
Back to bed at 5:33
Five more minutes to unfreeze
Need to leave by 7:15
Beat the slow moving,
Knee shaking,
Come on move it
Car and tube rage boiling in me
Work...
Home...
Sleep...
Bills...
All keep
Me in my groovidity
But think the laser's stuck
Messin' my CD up
Makin' me Mona Lot
Time to step it up
Deborah, aka: Urban Poet
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)