Of ceiling wax and cabbages

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Archive for the ‘poetry’ Category

leave through the window flying

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Jack and I found another poem Sam wrote. He wrote it in his high school folder so that might have been 1998. Compare the progression of his poetry in 12 years.

far from sound

by Sam Cropley

I’m from an english background
my life is far from sound
for I am bound by the rules of society
even if it doesn’t apply to me
by its floors, by its see of doors
by the people that control
by the thugs that roll
You for your money and possessions
for u don’t carry any weapons
for you see no need
as my life isn’t run by greed

As with At the door I changed no words. I only added a title and (not much) punctuation. It b all his own words

Written by ClareSnow

24 February 2011 at 10:03 am

Posted in poetry

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morning glow

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Sorry is not a word
It is the breath i catch in my hand
for tomorrow.
These are the words i give to you.
The birds sing up
the orange glow of dawning light
As a silver moon
slides into her indigo slumber
In wait for another night
i will breathe in with sweet savour

Written by ClareSnow

19 February 2011 at 5:20 pm

Posted in poetry

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Sam’s txt poem

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Update 19 Jan: I would like the record to state that I changed no words in Sam’s poem. I only added punctuation and made the line breaks. It b all his own words

As well as paint words on walls Sam could draw pictures with words. He txtd me this last February (it must’ve taken ages to type cos he didn’t have a iphone) I always thought it was a story but when I set it out like a poem, I discovered it is a poem. You’re not the only poet Jan

At the door

by Sam Cropley

stained glass wallI was asleep
I hear a bang on door
Ding dong, the doorbell goes
Smash, smash
The banging is at my window
I wake
The process repeats
Tentatively I look out the smallest of gaps
I don’t know this burly man
Smashin away at my insecure unit
This won’t go away
I wish it would
Police? Mafia?
What have I done?
Angry brother? Drug debt?
Or simply wrong place wrong time?
My sleep numb brain makes a decision
The bangin and ringing continues
I turn on my bedside light
My body panics
Fidgets here, fidgets there
My mind still thinkin of the troubles in the past
I reach the door
Who is it?
No response
Who is it?
Moments pass
Feels like I’ve just committed all those sins over again
Who is it?
Not daring to open the door
The man, the voice, the commotion responds
You’ve left the lights on in your ute.
Ok mate, cheers, I respond

Written by ClareSnow

7 January 2011 at 3:01 am

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