Two Poems
by Keith Woodhouse

 

 

                                                                      Detention

                           

                                                                     Mental patients -

                                                                  Goldfish in a goldfish bowl,

                                                              Under the consultant psychiatrist,

                                                                   Under the watchfull eye

                                                                          Of the universe.

                                                                      Lying in our beds,

                                                                     Spinning in our heads,

                                                                Bright sun through tall windows.

                                                                    "Nurse, Valium, please."

                                                                  Anything to slow it down,

                                                                                I try and read

                                                                               But I can't focus,

                                                                          Someone is tapping a teacup.

                                                                              Mania, Schizophrenia,

                                                                                Clopixol Acuphase,

                                                                           Hired muscle dotted about,

                                                                 "Talk to the doctor on Monday Morning."

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                                Guitar

 

                                                                       I don't think or speak,

                                                                I communicate with my Guitar,

                                                              Just another lonely Guitar freak,

                                                                You are what you think you are.

                                                                                                                                                            

 

 

Rate this poetry.

Copyright is reserved by the author. Please do not reproduce any part of this article without consent.