Tag Archives: POEM

JOHNNY DEPP READS JACK KEROUAC

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http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/video/1vij4k

THAT WEEK IN INDIANA-POEM ANA CHRISTY

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that week in Indiana

a 16 hour drive
Indiana bound
the road before
me wound here
and there as I
drove the day
the night filled
with anticipation
and lust for the
farmer and his
chickens cows
and an old brown
dog I was as free
as the wind
following the map
to the small town
that led me to him
that early dawn
and he was there
by the side of his
ramshackle
house in his army
fatigues and his
long brown hair
with a red bandana
oh god was he as
true to his photo
even better
and I did what
farmers daughters
do with handsome
men
in the hay loft
where mice ran
scattering
and the chickens
clucking and the
cows mooing and
the dog was barking
as we lay moaning
under an orange
moon-it was 18
years ago and I
dream of him still
we loved and lost
but the memories
stay and linger
still
there is a lot to
be said for Indiana
country boys with
red bandanas.

ana christy

GOOD OLD BRITISH RAIL-A TRIP TO LONDON, POEM, ANA CHRISTY

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GOOD OLD BRITISH RAIL
(circa 1966)

CLICK CLACK

the old train
rumbles
along
the track
“Wallington
Wadden
and
West Croydon.”
the Indian
conductor
yells in his
sing song
tone
he clips my
ticket
fervently
and tips
his cap-
I always
had a
thing
for
conductors
especially
Indians

CLICK CLACK

feet upon
the seat
I watch
men
bowler
hats
hiding
behind
their
“times”
pretending
to read

their brief
cases
pressed
between
lanky
knees
they look
at me
sideways
uneasy
with
my
hippie
garb
don’t they
have
daughters
like
me?
with
long
flowing
skirt
boots
bangles
jangling
long hair
and
bangs

CLICK CLACK

old ladies
raincoats
and
chunky
shoes
clutching
net
shopping
bags
looking
for
bargains

rich folk
looking
to shop
Harrods
get the
same
china
as her
majesty
the queen
a human
smorgasbord
swaying
back
and forth

CLICK CLACK

an
anti-
maccasar
behind
my
head
un-fog
the
window
seeing
row
houses
tool
sheds
green
yards
laundry
blowing
in the wet
breeze
factories
car lots
taller and
taller
buildings

CLICK CLACK

HISSS

the engine
lets
off steam

“WATERLOO
end of
the line
watch
your step
disembark
ladies
and gents.”

THE ENGINE SIGHS

I hurry the
long platform
to the red
Underground
sign
down long
escalators
to the belly
of the earth
I hurry to be
on
Carnaby Street
where it’s
all about
to
happen
for me.

Ana Christy

EXPOSÉ -A POEM BY ANA CHRISTY

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exposé

I was a rebel
a liar
a thief
an activist
a pacifist
drinker
druggie
an acid head
coke head
pot head
never a crack head

a foodie
a lover a sinner

I was notoriously
famous –
a vagabond
traveller
hitch hiker
road the trains
buses
ships
and cars

I have been jeered at
applauded
published recorded
and heard

I was brash and funny
devoted and loving
loyal lustful and looney
a honey

I have amnesia-
retrograde and
anterograde- I forget
the rest

I have a.d.d.
prosopagnosia
herpetophobia
agoraphobia
latophobic

I have
athazagoraphobia
anthropophobia
ataxophobia
alto phobia

I have a fear of the
color beige-for which
there is no term
anyway beige is not
a color

I have
acousicophobia
and a learning
disability
tinnitus and for
the life of me I
cannot spel

I have a touch of
atelophobia and
anthropophobia
so please whatever
you do -don’t ignore me!

Ana Christy

 

AUNT ROSEMARY-POEM-Ana Christy

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aunt rosemary

the peacocks strut with
feathers puffed pecking
at breadcrumbs outside
my aunt’s stone cottage

she will marry the lord
of the estate she lives on
she will be a lady
he loves her
but she yearns for the
captain that was killed
in the war
his picture is on her
bedside table

with poker stoking the fire
vein striped elegant hands
move hot red coal
she has a knack with
the bellows

 

rouged cheek bones high
etch her face
she is beautiful-a Catherine
Hepburn- cannot help but
stare hair tumbling from
a bun
she wears plaid skirt
white blouse a cameo
pinned at the neck
a cardigan laced over
lean shoulders

sits back in worn tapestry
chair and sips her after
noon sherry

cats stroll sit and lay
on stakes of old newspapers
they feed from porcelain
bowls with raised contented
tails aloof and slightly
arrogant

aunt rosemary is
my only aunt
she took me to
the circus-the
only outing I
would ever go on

when the cottage
caught on fire
late in winter
aunt rosemary
was asleep in
her long cotton
gown
-I hoped she
didn’t suffer
but I know she
did- even though
I was a child I
knew what death
was all about.

 

 

 

KISSING ASS

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KISSING ASS

and sucking up
I learned what it’s all about

you can ‘t just have talent
and sit on your bum all day
it won’t come to you-
you’ve got to make the
connection
travel a hundred or a few
thousand
be put up in digs that are
less than adequate
read the poems that suit
the audience
deal with the hecklers
and drunks
and people who seek
your autograph and come
onto you
and mikes that don’t work
but I keep on truckin’
for fame not fortune
and the love of it all
and the accumulating
posters on the wall.

Ana Christy