Mark Curtis Poems

The consequence of a TV nation,
We lost the art of conversation.

Sit there glued TV all rooms,
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Who was it that prescribed the notion,
Not what you sea but just an ocean.

By “deep blue” known a common name,
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Stare out at a the lonely tree,
My mind it forms a memory.
Gentle breeze moves left then right,
Reminds me of a once fought plight.
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At the venue arrive in time,
to hit someone and not a crime.
Cold corridor you walk at pace,
the time to switch to poker face.
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Never change, be who you are, if this believe you won't go far.
We all must flex to some degree, or ones you love will set you free.
Set you free, if will not budge, your conscience you now have to judge.
A Chamelelon you must now appear, change to suit to hold all dear.
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God, forgive me for my sins,
can’t stop thinking of her pins.

long and smooth, two pronged attack,
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Confidence can come from many sources,
something you do, your own resources.
A single word, can but inspire,
an inner glow, that raging fire.
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This poem is a bout a friend's mother who beat breast cancer and separation:

Take no offence, don’t call me dumb,
this poem I write, is about your mum.
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Where we’re born we have no say,
Conveyor starts you’re on the way.

Infancy years the belts slow pace,
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This girl is hard to satisfy,
just take a look and you’ll see why?
What make of man, wins this queen of Hearts?
It’s simple, a man of seven parts.
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