If I believe
in the beautiful lies,
I am deluded -
but if I accept
harsh, hopeless,
dark
truths,
I am cynical.
Paula's Poetry Blog
Poetry by Paula Puddephatt: new work, and poetry from the archives...
Thursday, 31 May 2012
Wednesday, 30 May 2012
Tuesday, 29 May 2012
"Selective Caring"
selective hearing
selective caring
your speciality
what part of the word
"desperate"
don't you understand
what part of the words
"need help urgently"
don't you won't you comprehend
can't help now
a patient's ill
I know that patient's me
but you mean a patient you
care about
and you clearly don't care about me
worthless
pointless
irrelevant
that's how I feel
I need a safe space
that's all I need
not to cause a drama
like the ones you help instead
but if you make me desperate
your drama
your entertainment
will arrive
eventually
but that's okay fine I'm only me
just ignore me
with my screams and scars
you can't pander to
people like that
after all
she'll go away in the end
natural wastage
on your stats
you always lose a percentage
nature of the job
Labels:
poem
Sunday, 27 May 2012
"The Whole World Sings Along" - 2012 Edits - Version 2
Popular opinion must always favour
the confidently wrong.
They steal your tunes,
and sing their own lyrics,
and the whole world sings along.
Nobody will be the one to admit
that the emperor has no clothes on.
the confidently wrong.
They steal your tunes,
and sing their own lyrics,
and the whole world sings along.
Nobody will be the one to admit
that the emperor has no clothes on.
"The Whole World Sings Along" - 2012 Edits - Version 1
Popular opinion must always favour
the confidently wrong.
They select a tune,
and sing their own lyrics,
and the whole world sings along.
Nobody will be the one to admit
that the emperor has no clothes on.
the confidently wrong.
They select a tune,
and sing their own lyrics,
and the whole world sings along.
Nobody will be the one to admit
that the emperor has no clothes on.
Labels:
poem
Wednesday, 23 May 2012
"In My Defence"
There are words I could use in my defence.
My mind goes blank. I can’t think of any.
I’m ill. That’s not a criminal offence.
You take me to bits. There are too many
Answers you’ve rehearsed. If I’d a penny,
For each time that I knew a point I’d made
Was valid, yet you just wouldn’t hear me –
Then, stuff "benefits" – I would be well-paid.
The way that you seem to want to steer me –
I won’t go. You tried to break me: Nearly.
My mind goes blank. I can’t think of any.
I’m ill. That’s not a criminal offence.
You take me to bits. There are too many
Answers you’ve rehearsed. If I’d a penny,
For each time that I knew a point I’d made
Was valid, yet you just wouldn’t hear me –
Then, stuff "benefits" – I would be well-paid.
The way that you seem to want to steer me –
I won’t go. You tried to break me: Nearly.
Labels:
poem
"Greyscale Days"
I struggle through each
Greyscale day,
And even
The silver in my night sky is
Tarnished.
Greyscale day,
And even
The silver in my night sky is
Tarnished.
Labels:
poem
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