What is it with You? [poem]
what is it with you?
stealing every little thing that moves!
not content to rob men of their hearts
you empty all their pockets plus their
dreams and even clean out every hotel room
of all free-standing artefacts available for
filching — anything, so long as it suits
your nobbling snaffling pilfermaking groove.
shampoo for your unconditioned hair
bars of soap and stuff for cleaning shoes
and even ashtrays disappear into your swag
that beige and bottomlessful bag
you carry on your sloping shoulder
so you always have to yank it up and over
with a careless shrug. I swear I saw a nest
of writhing rats within that stashly habitat
all those things outside you
in your world are merely pawns for you to move
about on chequered boards to gratify your stunted
always so affronted whoyouareness undeveloped
(for completely by your Self you are enveloped).
grab seize steal wrench then make off with
take get hold of pluck pull don’t give
wrest gain win clutch then pounce on it
grasp grip nab swipe bag nail con-chick
[once I saw a kid like you
a toddler who was merely two years old
(his cheeks were green and blue)
bladely stomping out his spoiled-brat dance
while terrorising other children in what he
had then regarded as his space (in his world
only he could have first place) unsatisfied until
the thousand things which moved within
that sphere had been accumulated
crudely stockpiled mountainously round
his shape which no doubt one dark day
would then become an anthem of obesity]
if only you’d received the love
your desperate heart had needed as a
tiny tot. But you were the unwanted harsh
result of loveless fumbled coital catapulted
cold unlovers’ knots which rikochayed
across your childhood barricades embedding
their inspensive cordite-impregnated fuse in all
your now acquisitive and hoading adult avenues
but now that I’ve explored in words
the sewage system which has clearly
underscored your hankering to hoard
I love you for the jewel you’re meant to be
and cryly hope you’ll find the now elusive
key to liberate your mind and let yourself
be cheerful with the portion you receive on earth
and then your focal axis will be free to shift to
something which exquisitely exists outside the
dark constricted cave of useless treasure troved
by you but destined worthlessly to fade from view
© 2012, Alan Morrison
The Naked Troubadour 