Brotherly Love

How could you say such a hurtful thing to your younger brother,
and that I received more love than you from our dearest mother?
What on Earth made you say such a thing to me
and what did you think my response would be?

I think you said it to be spiteful and to cause me hurt and pain.
Are you trying to make me feel guilty? Man, you're really insane.
You've got some sort of problem and I think it's jealousy,
but why should you feel this way especially about me?

Is it because I'm creative and see my projects through,
where is thinking about something is too much for you.
Maybe it's because you're a man who's naturally ham fisted,
is this the reason you're so bitter and emotionally twisted?

Your problem must go back to the time when I was born,
when you had everything your way and never suffered scorn.
My arrival must have made you feel an uncomfortable second best,
with me getting all the attention and you with much less.

[...] Read more

poem by Orlando Belo
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

My Last New Years Eve Party

I recently moved house to reflect my personal situation,
my neighbours asked me to their New Year celebration.
I didn’t know anyone, so I mingled around for a while
I introduced myself and tried hard to raise a smile.

The guests weren’t the most sociable that I’d ever met
they didn’t want to mingle and get to know me yet.
They were preoccupied and didn’t want to know me at all
I thought I had the plague and was just about to fall.

The back ground music was depressing and very low key,
on the sombre and eerie side to do anything for me.
When I asked about a music change to a happier kind of mood
I received stares and glares, which I thought extremely rude.

It was then that I felt unwelcome and wished I’d gone elsewhere,
and began thinking of an excuse to get the hell out of there.
A young woman approached and said, “It’s much too early yet! ”
“For what, ” I said. “Why, for leaving here without regret.”

[...] Read more

poem by Orlando Belo
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

‘Oscar’ The Man of Metal

I built a magnificent man of metal
out of old used tin cans.
I removed the tops and bottoms
and with them I made his hands.

I unrolled the assorted cans of metal
and hammered them into shape.
Then welded and riveted them together,
which made his exterior look great.

I gave him joints for movement
and eyes of coloured glass.
Electronic circuits became his brain,
which added that touch of class.

He had nerves of steel and fibre-optics,
and anti-freeze was his life blood.
Movements of time charged his power cells
making his battery life exceptionally good.

[...] Read more

poem by Orlando Belo
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

No Rest For The Living Or Dead

It began on a Saturday when I had a heart attack and died,
On the Monday I had an autopsy and they had a look inside.
The following Thursday I was buried and the last rites were read,
and on the Friday I became a member of the living dead.

Someone dug me up and put an abnormal life inside of me,
he told me to be happy now that I’d joined his family.
I asked him why he chose me and he said why not,
I was freshly buried, and he loved a good blood clot.

I was now part of his food chain, so I must get out more at night,
I must encourage chit-chat with conversation romantic and light.
He expected success from his family and huge amounts of blood.
His thirst was enormous and drank whenever he could.

He would take from his family what we had taken from others,
so he could bring back more dead sisters and brothers.
I must admit I don’t like doing this, I never did like nights,
when I collect blood from a victims neck I get uptight.

[...] Read more

poem by Orlando Belo
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Young Lovers

I like sitting at this particular table in this lively Café
eating my cheese toastie and drinking black coffee.
At a nearby table, two lovers are kissing and making up,
but then after their last kiss they decided to disconnect
to take a deep drag from their shared cigarette
and to take a sip from their cooling coffee cup.
Placing the cigarette in the ash tray they cuddled back together
fitting like a glove with their arms around each other
totally preoccupied, giving no one else a second look.

After several minutes of holding, kissing and whispering,
and the occasional passionate tongue in mouth sucking
it looked as though they were here for the rest of the day.
Suddenly her chair flew backwards, as she quickly stood up
rocking the table, which spilled the coffee from their cups
and the ashtray to hit the floor, as she pushed him away.
She then slapped his face and shouted at him in anger,
but he sat calm and collected, and said that he loved her,
and she had misunderstood what he was trying to say.

[...] Read more

poem by Orlando Belo
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

In My Sleep I Thought

I had died and found myself in a dark damp place
I couldn’t see my body, but I could feel my face.
Some distance away there was a dot of bright light
but I couldn’t get near it so it remained just a sight.

I wandered around in the dark trying to find a way out,
but I bumped into things that began to moan and shout.
The stench of decaying flesh and sulphur hung in the air,
it was causing me to retch, and followed me everywhere.

But the sulphur seemed stronger when I faced one way
and it felt slightly warmer with less taste of decay.
As I headed in that direction I entered a dark red mist
that swirled and grew hotter, with a vapour that hissed.

I considered going back into the dark but I carried on
and then the mist began to clear until it had gone.
I was now in a place of unusual coloured fiery flames
some tickled my skin whilst others caused pains.

[...] Read more

poem by Orlando Belo
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Grave Yard

Vandals knocked down the gravestones in the churchyard during the night.
They didn’t give a damn about the dead, their families, or what is right.
The grave yard vandals have gone and the usual tranquillity has returned
to the field of the dead, the flattened headstones and broken urns.

The peace and quiet of the night is disturbed by an owl’s repeated hoot,
and the flapping of wings, as the Belfry’s bats come flying through.
The moon bright sky suddenly vanishes behind a darkened cloud,
as if to give a wake up sign to a transparent figure covered by a shroud.

The howling grey figure hovers over the flattened epitaphs and marble stones,
waking the dormant spirits who respond with unhappy morbid moans.
The ghosts of the old and newly departed are rising in anger this very night
to take revenge on the desecrators who broke the dark’s link with the light.

Hosts of vengeful grey blue ghosts and spirits swirl and mingle together,
and then separate to seek out the vandals in this night of damp cold weather.
With deathly haunting cries they howl and search, as they travel with the wind
through keyholes, cracks in doors and windows, they examine everything.

[...] Read more

poem by Orlando Belo
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Downward Spiral

We met by chance in a noisy low lit place,
the music was loud and I couldn't see a face.
We were quiet types but we hit it off straight away,
you seemed intrigued by what I had to say.

You came home with me and stayed awhile,
but then you left with a wave and a smile.
The next morning was just like any other day,
shower, breakfast, and a grindstone for pay.

For the next few days you never entered my thoughts
but then one night I drunk more than I ought.
You emerged from the shadows and we met again,
it was then I realised that we both felt the same.

You were pleased to see me and I to see you,
and there was no doubt what we should do.
We slept together and when I awoke you'd gone,
leaving me with little to think upon.

[...] Read more

poem by Orlando Belo
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Cellar

I’ve been a prisoner in this smelly unlit cellar for three days now,
I’ve got to try and find a way out, but I don’t know how.
With nothing to eat or drink since I was thrown into this place
I’m beginning to see weird things that are not common place.

My foot keeps being touched and I think it might be a rat,
and right now a rat could be a meal, and I could go for that.
If it touches me again I’ll try and catch it, and bite off its head;
what am I thinking about I couldn’t eat a rat, I’d rather be dead.

I’ve got to eat or drink something before I go completely mad
and when I think more about it, that rat doesn’t seem so bad.
I can see large silver coloured spiders crawling up the wall,
I’ll see if I can catch one... Damn it! I’m much too small.

Let’s face it I’m going to die in this damp, darker than night cellar,
all because of my lust for a woman, and her psychotic fella.
She teased and seduced me, and her boyfriend wasn’t too pleased,
when he entered the room and caught us at it, with me on my knees.

[...] Read more

poem by Orlando Belo
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

She

We had been going steady for over a year
and she assumed a wedding was near.
But I was too young and enjoyed my life,
and wasn’t ready just yet to take a wife.

Though two years younger at seventeen
she was the most sensitive girl I’d ever seen.
If we argued she would openly weep,
she worked me well, even in my sleep.

She filled my mind when I wasn’t with her,
she was my Cleopatra, my Mona Lisa.
I shared her insatiable appetite for sex
and never knew when it would happen next.

She spoke of children and wedding rings,
detached houses, and domestic things.
I didn’t actually say that I didn’t disagree,
which really was ambiguous of me.

[...] Read more

poem by Orlando Belo
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!