Poetry Blog by Jain Gawne

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Paul Sayer on Movement (Wed, 28 Oct 2020 08:57 am)

Jain Gawne on Annuver poem (Wed, 28 Oct 2020 08:51 am)

Jain Gawne on Poem for my big sister (Wed, 28 Oct 2020 08:51 am)

Jain Gawne on Poem for my big sister (Wed, 28 Oct 2020 08:51 am)

Paul Sayer on Message to a racist (Wed, 28 Oct 2020 08:45 am)

Paul Sayer on Annuver poem (Wed, 28 Oct 2020 08:39 am)

Paul Sayer on Poem for my big sister (Wed, 28 Oct 2020 08:35 am)

Jain Gawne on The Blame Game. (Sun, 27 Sep 2020 11:32 am)

Ian Whiteley on The Blame Game. (Sun, 27 Sep 2020 11:30 am)

curiousdud3 on A poem for my ex-husband (Sun, 27 Sep 2020 10:37 am)

Poem for my big sister

A poem for my big sister about our grandparents ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once upon a time there were two sisters

One dark

One fair...

You

And me

And we shared

Sweets

Dreams

A bed

A room

A home

A family

An abuse

A neglect

A secret

A history

And yet here we are

So very different.

We shared so much

And yet so very little

You were

A coconut ...

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abusechildhoodjealousyneglectself harmSisters

Annuver poem

My poetry is rather crappy It's not designed to make you happy

In fact it's rather the reverse Depressing and at times perverse.

Sometimes I like to make it rhyme And other times it feels just fine

To end with a non rhyming line Like this. Or that. Whatever.

I'd love to write all flowery But pretty words don't work for me

My eyes don't hear the jingly bells Or see the pretty fairy d...

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Message to a racist

A ferocious sea of red, white and blue
Sieg heils and swastikas, Doc Marten boots
Shaven heads, braces and distorted faces
Driven by fear and irrational hatred
You think you're superior, sophisticated
The master race, ha! But your views are outdated
With your big fat round belly and your face like a pig
Your snarled lips as you yelled and you screamed and you hissed
At me, commie bitch, n*...

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NFRacismsexual abusesexual assaultstrength.

The Blame Game.

She spun and spun
And weaved a web
So intricate
So delicate
And at once impenetrable.

No one could see
The pedalling feet beneath
The turning of the many cogs
The machine whirring and wearing away inside of her.

Her past an ever present.
Her future already decided.
Fate was never to be on her side.
They'd seen to that.

They stole her innocence
Her joy
Her pride.

Bitter was she.
Th...

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abuseself harm

Rotten Fruit

And so it was
And time knew no boundaries
Thrust back to twelve years old
Twelve years of joy and blessings and unfortunate occurences

But we don't talk of those
For that brings guilt, shame.
Darkness on light kills joy.
Killjoy!
Bringer of ill thought
Bringer of death
Death of present and future.
Always living in the past
And they say, don't live in the past
Live in the here and no...

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abuse Pastfuturepresent

Movement

I move
Always
A private chorea
On public display
Tapping rhythms
With feet
Head
Invisible drum sticks
Finger nails
And I rock to and fro
To a silent disco
Just for me
Swaying against the crowd.

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autismdanceTics

A poem about my lovely husband, Rick.

It's all I can do
To sit up and gaze upon your beauty
As you lay there
Unaware
Your chest rising
Then falling
Once rugged hair now
glistening and twinkling
As the moonlight catches
And I sigh
You're in so deep now
The streaks of silken hair rise and fall
With every breath
I turn next to your face
Lined with the beauty of age
And wisdom
And stress
And I quietly observe
The flare o...

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angerbeautysleepSnoringsuffocation

A Bitter and Twisted Poem for my Beautiful Sister, Su.

We shared
Sweets
Dreams
A bed
A room
A home
A family
An abuse
A neglect
A secret
A history
And yet here we are
So very fucking different
We shared so very much
And yet so very little
You were
A coconut cake girl
To my burnt gingerbread
An exotic orange
To my plain apple
A wanted girl
To my nuisance
A beautiful girl
To my awkwardness
A favourite
Of aunts and teachers and co...

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comparisonsjealousyoverdoseself harmSibling rivalry

A poem for my late father, Bernard.

Twas the dawning of Father's Day, so said Facebook
Not a feeling was stirring, not even a fuck.
No flowers were planted by the headstone with care
Cos a mad pauper's grave can have no headstone there.

The children were restless, and not in their beds
Cos visions of suicide danced in their heads
Of white overalls and of tablets and shame
And sickness and pimping, a life quite insane.

The pe...

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AIDSDeath of a parentHIVprostitutionsuicide

A Poem for my Late Mother

I miss you
I miss your overwhelming, overriding knowledge
Your greater wisdom,
Your superiority.
I miss you
I miss the way you make me feel dumb and special all at once,
And unworthy and unworldly
And not enough.
Never enough.
I miss you

Not enough years or experience
Not a deep enough depression
Not a bad enough time.
A broken back was nothing compared to your plight
A gun against t...

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Death of a parentlovemissingmum

Poem for the Babysitter, Pete.

I think of you often
I think of you each time I see a Mini Cooper (especially if it's green, which is often)
I think of you when I see blue paper
Like touch paper it ignites the flames
Again.
I think of you at night as I lie in my bed
I think of you (sometimes) during my most intimate moments
I think of you when I see a gypsy skirt
Or a leather flower.
I think of you.
I think of you when...

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Babysittersexual abuse

Poem for my late step-dad, Don the Cockroach.

You seeped into our lives
A rising damp
Destroying everything in your path.
Maybe that's unfair.
Destruction was what we knew best
And to be honest, I don't remember much of the early days.
You just appeared like an unwanted mould
Infecting every nook and cranny
Polluting the very air we breathed.
Buddy Holly boomed throughout
As you clenched your butt cheeks like a spastic baboon
Lord ...

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abusedeathstep-father

A poem for my ex-husband

I loved you once
I think
You swept me up in a cyclone of romance and fear
Excitement and charm
And control.
A romantic threat across a crowded room
On lined paper.
I love you, but if you ever shit on me I'll break both your legs.
You loved me!
And I loved you for that.
They say love makes you blind
And I was blind
I could not read the flashing signs.
And I was deaf
I could not hear t...

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domestic violenceex-husband

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