If You Forget Me
If you forget me
Who ever you are?
It will mean nothing to me
Who will go on living
Having forgotten the purpose
To a life
That drags heavy footed
Through grey streets
If you forget me
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poem by Yvette Smith
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Tales of miss tardy
I was late forra may wurk
ma buss went buzzurk
An pulled out a toe nail or two
Wen ar walked away in incredible pain
He cried 'An yee better noot be goin of ill
So the neext day I took a pill and caught tha first train
But it stalled just before ma station
I treed ta sneek in the back room
but ma boss jumped out witha broom, from his cramped wurrak station!
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poem by Yvette Smith
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I Do Not Love You
I do not love you
Except that you are loved by somebody else
I do not love you
Nor do I love myself
Or love, love
And so I do not love you
Or me
Or somebody else
Therefore I go 'unloved'
Into a limping world
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poem by Yvette Smith
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An Alien In My Back Passage
There's an alien in my back passage
I never saw him coming
One night in june under a full moon
I heard a distant humming
At first I thought it was the girl next door,
who sang off key in the night
But she had gone to her bed at noon
And had turned off all her lights
Then a girgle followed the hum
Until a green light glowed from my tum
And out of the darkness a small green man sprung
Wearing a stetson and chewing some gum
'Take me to your leader' I cried
But he carried on chewing, strutting his stuff like J.R Ewing
He was 5cm heigh and 2.5cm wide
Before I could catch him, he rushed back inside
Leaving a stench without making a scene
Turning the room a dark shade of green
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poem by Yvette Smith
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Inside Sing Sing With Mandy Cupcakes
Inside sing sing with Mandy Cupcakes
(called honey)
Her iced buns and sweet slices used to rake in the money
Then one day in June that was particularly sunny
She decided to kill off her daddy and mummy and sandy her bunny
After a long day in detention stuck in the refectory
Where she watched Ada the cook knock up a confectionary
Giant cupcake that rose to the ceiling
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poem by Yvette Smith
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Somewhere In France
mother is in a coma
and I am somewhere in France
and you left me all alone at the school dance
I was sweet sixteen
you were going on sixty four
Your eyes were blue
but your words untrue 'love? '
You stood me up and left me standing at the door
I must confess in my distress I said
'I've never seen that boy before! '
But you were long gone
Before I got over you
The boy who played the trumpet
you were rotten to the core
You left me standing all alone
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poem by Yvette Smith
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Penelope Pidgeon
Pidgeons were scavengers, hangers on
They scrapped and crapped
All over the square
They were worse than the Tourists
With the yanky doodle stare
Penelope got stuck
With Pidgeon
This was not her name...
But it stuck
Like mud to a shoe
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poem by Yvette Smith
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My Artistic Intent
My artistic intent kept me up all night without relent,
I wanted to paint you a monet or a turner
But art was never my strong point
And being a slow learner
I painted a tiny flower instead
My artistic intent drew me to a small corner cafe
With a seat for one
Even after a sleepingless night
This stubborn muse wasn't done
Instead half dead I sat for hours
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poem by Yvette Smith
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The shyness of magnolia winderbottoms
Magnolia is too shy to come out of the house today,
Some say she's too lazy
And her windows are dirty and hazy
Some say she never got over her Agraphobia
Magnolia, is too shy to come out of the house today
But some say it is because she feels the cold
Some whisper, and say 'she swears alot! '
Some say magnolia prefers to be alone
Magnolia is too shy to come out of the house today
Some say it is because she hates her name
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poem by Yvette Smith
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Lost
The loss began out of sequence
Not quite inevitable
As the measure of a grief
At least in the procession
The pall bearers
The expenses
This loss
Outrode the cold cadaver
lying stiff like a stuffed doll
Half resembling a loved one
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poem by Yvette Smith
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