Poem twelve- http://napowrimo.com
Voices whisper as I strain to hear,
But what do they say?
I am told my hearing will improve with age.
But surely it isn’t so?
Poem Eleven – http://napowrimo.com
‘Sorrys’ and sympathy,kindness and kinship,
He’s dead you know,let him rest in peace,
memories abound and grief is hard,
remember in a while it will at least cease.
The pain pours on though the sun is shining,
flowers are offered and sorrow is shared.
At funerals they flock to pay their respects,
so at least I suppose they all cared.
Why do they try and interfere with everything,
relatives,thinking it helps, it doesn’t you see?
Dispense with the charade, a card will suffice.
The one who is dead is him,it’s not me!
By Becky Bite
Poem ten- http://napowrimo.com Friday nights alright for fighting,
Cheap wrappers and spilled kebabs strewn the wet cobbles.
An aria of drunken female screeching is set off by the rhythmic shouts of the ‘lads’.
Skirts barely skimming ass cheeks over tan streaked legs,
Rain hits down on cold,goosebumped skin,
running mascara and no coats are regulation uniform here.
Staggering on scuffed cheap heels a girl screams and mourns her lost love.
Her friends pay homage to her pain, passing her some chips and holding back her hair as she vomits.
Rainbow sick that smells like aniseed and sugar splatters the pavement.
Her knight disappears around a corner, yelling his displeasure.
She sinks to the wet floor, avoiding the coloured puddle she’s left by only a whisker.
Discarding their empty wrappers her mates conclude – its time to call a taxi.
Poem Nine –
The answer unfolds,
Follow my leader,
An honest game,
but who are you?
And what is your name?
By: Becky Bite
Poem Eight –
Icy finger tips spiral and coil around my throat,
The air is chilled and brisk,
My spine shivers with electric anticipation,
tiny raindrops begin to patter atop my head.
The wind howls and screams in anguish,
like a teething baby without a mother,
My red nipped ears recoil from it
in pain and fear.
The storm is coming, it’s rising, it’s beginning,
My frozen hands flecked like old, cracked china
with the painted patterns of thread veins,
My cool breath dances like cigarette smoke.
Finally I hear it, the deep, sonorous rumble,
the loitering thunder booms into being.
My heartbeat begins to canter excitedly,
and I wait.
The lightening illuminates the darkened sky,
The shining bright crack cavorts childishly,
Elements coming out to play like mischievous imps
that we’re lucky to glimpse.
By Becky Bite
Poem seven – http://napowrimo.com
A horrible, tight, looming feeling.
The knowledge of my own mortality,
lurking in shadows behind me like a predator waiting to strike.
A heavy pressing on my heart, clinging on like talons sunk deep into ripe flesh.
My ribcage tightens, constricting my very soul.
My eyes bulge and strain in the darkness to glimpse a horizon,
just to spy a beam of sunlight cutting through.
The pungent smell of my own death and decay
repulses my own nostrils and makes me wretch.
By Becky Bite
Poem Six – http://napowrimo.com
Sat beside me always,
Warm and true,
You never ever falter
You are my glue.
Poem five – http://napowrimo.com
Harsh computers glare,
Enormous stack of papers,
Another deadline looming.
Don’t know where to start,
Aching muscles, throbbing,
Headache reigns supreme.
Poem four – http://napowrimo.com
A painted sky gleaming with gold lies to me,
The cruel wind blasts my cheeks and threatens to tear tears from my eyes,
The brutal cold moves up through the bench, into my skin, my bones and to the very core of me,
Wild air caresses my legs and slips inside any crevass of clothing left unguarded,
Stray strands of hair tickle my nose and distract my streaming eyes,
The piercing frost creeps gently along behind me as I walk away,
reclaiming its land once more from the receding sun,
I head hurriedly along towards the distant lights that signal warmth and home.
Poem Three – http://www.napowrimo.net/
“Want to go out this weekend?”
Same old story, got to work my friend!
Saturday night but Boyfriends with another,
Ah well, I’ve inevitable lost my lover.
Young people everywhere playing hard & fast,
But I’m studying chapter one before last.
Socialisation chapter five page sixty nine
No that’s ‘Life Changes’ it says so third line.
Head in the books I fall into slumber,
Thinking of stress, now whats the page number?
Heads throbbing, close to a nervous breakdown.
Now what I need is a good night on the town.
“Cure for over work, whats in this glass”
Says my best friend bold as brass,
Out with the work and in with the fun,
It’s about balance when all’s said and done!