Angeleaka
My name is Angelleaka
I pee and cry
And pee and cry
I was made in Hong Kong
I am plastic
With squeaky leaky legs
My name is Angeleaka
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poem by Yvette Smith
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Fever
He was enquiring
meticulous in note taking
Scrawled amensiac letters and
Night sweat
And blurring of
visions thinly partitioned
masked
Under a moist skein
Of white light
Floating falling
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poem by Yvette Smith
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Pill.........placebo Domingo
Give me a pill, and I'll say I'm okay
Give me a pill and I'll just go away
Give me a pill and I'll swing from the rafters
Give me a pill and I'll live 'happy ever after'
Give me a pill and I'll site you in my will
Give me a pill and I'll stop being 'ill'
Give me a pill and I'll trip the light fantastic
Give me a pill and i'll overdose on 'plastic'
Give me a pill and I'll lie through my back teeth
And say that you're 'fantastic'
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poem by Yvette Smith
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The letter says
Words, lingustic signatures
They are on most days irrelevant
But there are many uses for the letter F
On bad days it fires itself
Small pellets
Resonating sounds
Beats an onaematapeic drum
Bouncing from the buccal of the mouth
On to the Flat Fat surface
Of the tongue
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poem by Yvette Smith
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What We See
I saw him from a distant
Walking through the streets
His eyes sparkled with a kind of absence
Only seen in dreams
As though I was watching
Those phantoms seen only in dreams
Yet in the daylight he was walking
His bright ebony skin gleaming
Under the weight of a large white cross
Suddenly so unremarkably strange
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poem by Yvette Smith
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The Poor
God is with the poor
But do the poor know God is with them?
As they look out from the crowd
Lost in their 'man made prison'
God is with the poor
But do the poor know God is with them?
As they look up to the proud
Who looks back with derision
And who can tell the poor that God is with them?
He who paints angel wings on ragged backs?
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poem by Yvette Smith
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Elephant
Hating you is easy
Because I have loved you with equal measure
Known the art of dissapointment when left behind to ponder on a rainy
afternoon
The elephant that's sitting on the sofa in the middle of the room
Today it's me and him you left us long ago
To work out what is left of the happy ever after, not quite so
So I am courteous and polite and give the elephant a drink
From a large red plastic bucket that I filled up at the sink
He tells me in a whisper you've been seeing someone else
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poem by Yvette Smith
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The conversation
The tree was bare
The ripe fruits picked
Stored out of sight
The most important sign
Was found in absence
As if you and I were never here
And words had been the buffers
That diminished the silence
Almost to nothing
Not quite there yet
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poem by Yvette Smith
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Communion
Sanctified by white robed candles
Whose flames flicker and dance over ancient altars
Silent lips sing in the silence
Altar boys swing incense and homage to the ritual
Silent feet shift towards the altar
With ease each parting lip
Tastes of sacrifice
And wine dripped cups that brim
With crimsons beads that glisten
And in the shadows
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poem by Yvette Smith
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On Line
It's fine being 'on line'
But I'd rather see a friend face to face
Than all this wafting about in 'cyber space'
After all most of us with faceless names
Haven't got a clue,
Any chance of some I.D?
To make me certain
That 'you', are, 'YOU? '
This country's a disgrace
There used to be a time
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poem by Yvette Smith
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