Me
I don't 'belong' to anyone,
As far as I can see
I am an individual
And no one's property;
I won't be owned by anyone,
Nor will I bend the knee,
A servant not, no matter what,
Nor ever will I be;
I'm not in thrall to anyone,
My master, I will be,
A unique human being,
I'm John, and simply me.
(Written Sept 2012)
poem by John Carter Brown
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Coughs and Sneezes
I hate it when I sneeze, these days,
It lifts my fringe, my curls, my greys;
It blasts my ears and rattles my head,
But at least it gets me out of bed.
I hate it when I cough, these days,
It hurts my chest, my eyes o'erglaze;
It's hard to breathe, I feel like dead,
I think I'd rather sneeze instead.
(Written Sept 2012)
poem by John Carter Brown
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Grandad
'Thank goodness for these zimmer-frames'
Old grandad would declare,
When his knees began a knocking,
And his teeth flew in the air.
His head was full of nothing,
And his brains were in his feet;
If they gave him chips for dinner,
He would think it was a treat.
So he upped and left his children,
And came to this huge place:
This resting house for old folk,
Where life can leave no trace.
(Written Feb 1994)
poem by John Carter Brown
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Writing
Out of your head
Down your arm and to the pen;
Then into the ink
Quick as thinking itself.
The dreams in your brain
Flow over the page,
And are never the same,
Are they worth writing down?
Love and hate jostle close,
Feelings turning about,
And they shout:
'Put me down, don't delay, we can't wait.'
If you're slow then they're gone,
They may never return,
And you'll always regret
Not moving your pen...do it then!
[...] Read more
poem by John Carter Brown
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Apple Pie and Custard
Apple pie and custard
Sitting on the table,
All I have to do is eat my meal
And I'll be able
To pull it close to me,
Pick up my spoon and see,
If it's half as good
As it's made out to be upon the label.
I dunked the spoon and listened
To the soggy sound it made,
The pie split like an earthquake
And 'twas then I was afraid;
The custard ran inside,
No more could I abide,
It was eaten
I was thankful for the money Mum had paid.
(Written Feb 1994)
poem by John Carter Brown
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I Miss You, I Wish You
I miss you my friend
I wish you were here
It's dreary without you
It's weary, unclear.
I miss you my buddy
I wish you'd have stayed
What a time we'd have had
What a team we'd have made.
I miss you my mate
I wish you were near
I seldom feel happy
I hold you so dear.
I miss you my pal
I wish you'd return
I'm stilled, Im inactive,
I'm filled with concern.
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poem by John Carter Brown
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Little Boy Lullaby
Little boy in blue
Can I sing to you
Hold you in my arms
Tell you I love you
And throw the world away.
Little boy in green
Tell me what you've seen
Through your shining eyes
And all my lullabies
Was it you and me?
Rockaby now, don't you cry now
Daddy's here to stay
Go to sleep now, not a peep now
Tomorrow we will play.
Little boy in white
Smiling in the night
How can I express
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poem by John Carter Brown
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Such Sorrow
Can you hear the cries in the distance,
Do you know what awaits you out there?
All is sorrow
No tomorrow
All is nothingness going nowhere.
Every argument empty and wasted
Every plea rejected as heard;
The judge sits composed
The case is now closed
And sentence can never be spared.
I perceive the cries in the distance
So far and yet so very near;
Lost darlings and lovers
To sisters and brothers
Such sorrow, with no-one to hear.
(Written April 1996)
poem by John Carter Brown
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Gettin' Old
It doesn't seem right
When you think of it cold,
All this creaking of bones
That they call growing old.
When you're getting short-sighted
And find you need spec's,
And your memory's so bad
You don't know what comes next.
All this sagging of flesh
And this hair going grey,
All this walking with sticks,
I can hear myself say
'If the clock could be turned
I would turn it today' ...
But I know that it can't
So it's back to the fray!
(Written April 1994)
poem by John Carter Brown
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My Different Poem
I have the feeling that I
Want to write some words that gel;
To put a hidden sentence in, to
Write them very well.
A piece of work, a
Poem all my friends can read and say:
'So this is how you make up
Different poems all the day! '
From all of my experience, all
My knowledge of our tongue, the
Other works were written, but my
Efforts are unsung.
And if my different poem is
Challenging for my brain, I know
For sure it's no-one else but
Me I'll have to blame.
poem by John Carter Brown
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