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Poems
by John D. Robinson

 

 

Making Distance

 

Of course, I should have

backed-away,

made distance,

I didn’t,

she died young of

narcotics, of violence,

betrayal, regrets, of a

savage harshness

that too many of us

know of:

she was strong,

even when she

knew death was

on her shoulders:

our interaction

although brief,

is still here,

particularly,

that time when we

kissed and

embraced

and then,

suddenly,

let go,

making that

distance,

as we should

have done,

knowing then,

we had

broken all

the rules.

 

 

 

a line, (a short blue one)

 

 

‘Stay The Night’

 

‘You might as well stay the night,

I mean, its 2am’ she said: we were

sat in our underwear, in her place

drinking wine: I was of a slim

build and she was of a very large

build and I was hooked on her

huge breasts: ‘Yeah, thank you’

I said, not knowing her name:

she slid off her bra and began

to caress her breasts and when

I reached forward, she slapped

my hands away: ‘Take off your

boxer shorts’ she demanded: I

did, as she moved in and I slid my

excitement between her

breasts as she masturbated:

later we drank wine and we

both passed-out and that was

it: I awoke around 6am, still

intoxicated and disappeared

like a fucking tooth-fairy.

 

 

 

a line, (a short blue one)

 

 

Finding Out

 

‘I can’t take you to work in that state’

said my work colleague: I swayed upon my,

feet, dressed in soiled clothing,

unwashed, unshaven. following

3 days of Brandy and Cocaine and

Hash:

I awoke to two paramedics

looking down at me as I lay on

the floor of my mother’s lounge:

‘Have you taken any drugs?’

I was asked: ‘Haven’t you?’

I replied

‘Do you need or want any

medical assistance?’

‘No’ I said

‘Good luck’ one of them

said and they went away

and I passed out: 2 days later

I awoke, sick, hungry, thirsty

and filthy in my own place:

I dragged my sorry ass into the

shower for 30 minutes, then I

drank a cold beer and

wondered where it had all

started to go wrong and I

knew that I’d have to go

back a fucking long way

to find that out.

 

 

 

a line, (a short blue one)

 

 

Susie’s Story

 

Susie was a sexual

‘pass-the parcel’,

Bob liked to think

of himself as her

protector and pimp:

Karl loved her and

wanted to marry her:

Bob fed her drugs

took monetary

 ‘bookings’ from

creeps to satisfy

their warped

perversions:

Karl was always

close by, at times

witnessing the

abuse:

Bob vanished when

the police became

interested:

Karl committed

suicide

and Susie became

hollow, see-

through, she became

mute,

but,

but, her eyes,

even Diablo

dare not look

into those.

 

 

 

a line, (a short blue one)

 

 

Abandoned

 

I was born

hanging onto

the edges of

the horizon,

the twilight,

thrown into the

wilds of

alcoholism

and the howls

of a literary

forest,

abandoned

in the alleys

and palaces of

love

and

war

and it was here

I stole

the secrets

of a new

morning,

knowing it

was never

going to

make it.

 

 

a line, (a blue one)

 

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