Teedy Dawn

Teedy Dawn Poems

Harold and Betty, a nice couple I’m told,
Adopted a boy, just seven days old.
This perfect arrival, so rosy and sweet,
Gave Harold and Betty a family complete.

As I lay down upon your bed,
A million thoughts run through my head,
Not least of all, I have to wonder,
Why you chose to work ‘down-under’.

I fear my little child.

I fear that she will not feed and grow strong and healthy,
I fear that she will stop breathing when I am out of the room or selfishly asleep,

It really is annoying when you can't read black on white,
You just get lost so easily because you can't tell left from right.
When words all look like pictures and letters jump around,
And mathematics baffles you because it has no sound.

If hell is other people...then you are my road to heaven,
I trust you with my life and would offer mine in return,
To you my imperfections are of no consequence,
You do not speak harshly of me to others,

Oh America.
Can’t you hear her?
Your mother is crying.
She mourns her lost sons and daughters who blood lies sacrificed on some other distant shore.

Its mammography day, ‘hip hip hooray’, I’m really not that scared,
I’ve had a few; I’m quite expert and thoroughly prepared.

The waiting room is always cold and full of anxious faces,

Small piece of white, marbled soap,
Sitting neatly beneath the china bowl.

No more the gentle song of spring,
No more the touch of anything,
No more the guiding, tender hand,
No more to walk upon this land.

What this? Oh God, I’m really in a stew,
My kids have arrived and I don’t know what to do.

I didn’t pick up the phone and drew the blinds down low,

Blessed are the peacemakers,
For they strive to bring order to a world of chaos and uncertainty,
They bring hope to those whose guardians have rejected them and forced them to a live a life without choice.

Only child.
Lonely child.
The symbol of perfection, in my father's eye,
A life of expectations, which naturally were high.

Tell me how to avoid the places where we used to go,
Tell me how to ignore people that we used to know,
Tell me how to throw away your shirt,
Tell me how to hide the hurt.

At first, things were fine; we got on quite well,
Sharing our thoughts we started to gel
The hours that we spent together were few
But, they meant such a lot and all of us knew

What’s that tapping at the windowpane?
Why it’s only the sound of the wind and the rain.
What’s that shadow upon the blind?
Why it’s only a tree with the moon’s light behind.

A poet for every soldier,
A rose for every gun,
A tender place for each crushed face,
And every life undone.

There were those that said no;
And those that said yes,
But the ones who said no won the address.
The ones who said yes felt depressed and downhearted,

What world is this that lays divided?
As each child of our time may not live,
Can no more be offered, done or provided,
Is there a limit to what we should give?

Upon my bed,
Your little hairs

Teedy Dawn Biography

Teedy was born in Sheffield, Yorkshire, England in 1966. The only child of working class parents, Teedy attended Bradford University and qualified as a teacher. Blessed with the gift of dyslexia Teedy has made writing one of her specialist subjects and poetry is her greatest love. Teedy draws a great deal of inspiration from 'people watching' and her own experiences of 'Northern life'.'Poetry is a wonderful art form for capturing and reflecting the diverse and often complex world in which we live'. Teedy's favourite poets are W H Auden and Wilfred Owen. 'Give me the true, harsh, grit of realism over flowers and nightingales any day! ' 'If I died I would like to be reborn as John Cooper Clarke' Teedy xxx)

The Best Poem Of Teedy Dawn

Piano Boy (In Tribute To Tim Burton And Roald Dahl)

Harold and Betty, a nice couple I’m told,
Adopted a boy, just seven days old.
This perfect arrival, so rosy and sweet,
Gave Harold and Betty a family complete.
However, their joy was soon to be tried,
As this perfect arrival, never once cried.
A blessing you say, what more could one ask,
Indeed, rocking a child is an odious task.
Especially at three am in the morning, when he falls asleep, just as your day is dawning.
But Harold and Betty would not have the pleasure of singing to sleep their new little treasure.
Instead, when they woke him and expected a cry,
All they heard from the crib was Brahms Lullaby.
Now the little sweet darling, long before he could talk,
Gave daily recitals of Mozart and Bach.
And Harold and Betty, not to miss a good thing,
Thought to contact an agent, and gave him a ring.
For they knew straight away where their son’s life was heading,
A booked him right up for Bar mitzvahs and weddings.
In truth, they agreed that their actions weren't right
But that didn’t matter; there were crowds to delight.
And the money was useful it gave them a life,
Free of credit and loans, trouble and strife.
Even though to their son they gave not a penny,
What good was it to him - he didn’t need any.
All provisions were made, so that he had no clue,
About the fortune his parents had begun to accrue.
What were once loving people, who longed for a child,
Now were miserly guardians, who others reviled.
Indeed, when their son entered high school,
They thought him naïve and took him as fool.
But Piano Boy knew that one day he’d leave, and have the last laugh, with a trick up his sleeve.
You see when he turned 20 and announced he was gay,
His public cried 'marvellous you’ll conquer Broadway'.
And he did, all alone, with no help from his kin,
Who expected grandchildren and more cash to roll in.
Without income, their house was soon repossessed,
And Harold and Betty had to confess,
That their parenting skills had somewhat been lacking,
They were broke, and in need of some capital backing.
I’ll tell you what, their son said with sorrow,
I’m in need of two roadies - you can sign up tomorrow.
Now, this tale has a moral, which is clear and uncut
If you have kids, you love them - no matter what,
For if you are selfish and quick to condemn,
Remember your fate might just rest with them.

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