Submission criteria:
I'd love to publish your poem on the Band Stand. Please bear in mind the following:
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Poems should be sent via e-mail.
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Please include your poem in the body of your message - poems sent as attachments will not be considered for submission.
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I am accepting your poems in good faith, so please don't embarrass me by sending someone else's work, passed off as your own!
Band Stand
Heartfelt thanks to those who have contributed, so far.
Auntie-Alison-with-the-golden-hair-like-mine-who-sings
Little
girl, with the deep copper hair
Your daddy does me wrong-
My hair is really mousey-brown
And there are years of raw wailing in my song.
Your still-infant face is calm, composed, amused, enquiring.
Your experiencing ripples over it like caressing waves of water.
I sit watching you, secretly admiring.
And knowing-I am a thoroughly other kind of daughter.
And where did my little girl go? How did she get so hurt, so lost, so
mad, so tired?
She rests now in the safe blackness of me, still aching to scream what's
true.
Oh, little girl, your daddy did her great wrong.
And now she wants to murder you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
None
I
hate that I let it happen
that I killed this one too
I wish I could trade places with it
if that meant it would still be alive
even if it meant that I would not
this guilt doesn't go away
he told me I *needed* too much from him.
I needed to be held and wasn't
I needed to be heard and he hung up the phone
I needed to be comforted and he wouldn't open his arms to hold me
I needed his presence and he wouldn't come
I needed to hear his voice and he wouldn't speak to me
I needed him to forgive me for killing his child,
he couldn't even look me in the eye
I am broken now for good
- twyla gariepy
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Old Oak
I
am a noble oak my canopy sublime,
My girth immense, my height too large to gauge
My arms provide a thousand nests for creatures of all kinds
I have stood here for 500 years, 2000 seasons pass,
My life spreads out whilst wars and tumults rage.
I survey the land for miles around, the scenic beauty wanes
Gone -gone the pleasant pastoral scenes
Man has raped the very sod, creating townships, roads and lanes
Tearing down my brother oaks
For unremitting greed.
Another age another time man's plans and projects fail:
Financial loss, lack of work causes ruin, angst and pain.
Folk depart this tortured vale.
A century I stand alone, nature restoring her pastures
My kingdom shall outlast the years allotted to my human masters.
Man shall come and Man shall go, the tree remains aloft
I do not brag or idle boast
My reign has viewed so many scenes causing grief o'er what is lost
Eventually my seasons will pass my kingdom will be waning
I have surveyed many years but my creator is unchanging.
AJP 2002
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Clutch, kick, every trip...
Clutch,
kick
Clutch, kick
Tickling floats
Petrol trickles from Amals
Ignition, click
Jump, kick
Brrrmmh, Brrrmmh
827cc, shake, shake
Glasses, gloves
Blip, blip
Clutch, clutch
Blip, right foot up, snick, crunch
Clutch, roll, we're off
2nd, 3rd, snick, snick
Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmmhhhhhhhh.....
Dr. Norton
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