Along with reams of short stories, and longer attempts at fiction, I’ve written countless poems over the decades. The bulk were written in my teens and twenties and I literally have folders full of handwritten and typewritten compositions.

I’d been threatening to put a selection into print since the mid-90’s. I remember discussing it with an old girlfriend in ’95 but a number of things always seemed to stop me. Part of that was not really being sure if I wanted to share them with the world, part was never having the time to go through what was amounting to thousands of bits of paper – ranging from typed and formatted finished compositions to hand written stanzas on the back of paper bags, or anything I had at hand when inspiration hit.

A few years ago I finally got round to sorting out a collection and published them under the title “Wild Card Symphonies”. Consisting of three smaller volumes of my work, “Wild Card Symphonies”, “Cry To Me”, and “This Graveyard Heart”, the book totaled just over 120 poems. You can buy a copy (plug plug) through Lulu on one of the links at the bottom of the page if you like what you read and want to have more.

Cry To Me

I am going out of my mind

The voice inside my head keeps crying

Exploding teardrops falling from inside.

It hurts so much I feel that I must die.

I feel all wired up

To things that I can’t understand,

Machines that I can’t see clearly anymore.

So many names and so many places

All tied together in the same pursuit,

Of my failure for pleasure ?

Or my failure to sustain ?

I don’t understand all the connotations

Of my actions or of your words,

All I know is that I’m losing something close to me

And I need something to relieve my pain.

I need something extra,

I need something more than you can give

Or that you can make me feel.

And although I try to protest my false addiction

I still turn, and run,

To the comfort of poison,

To the sanctuary of broken minds.

Cry to me.

It’s what I really want of you,

All I’ve ever wanted from all of the faces I’ve touched,

From all the names that these lips have kissed.

I once thought that I understood this world

And the part that I had been given to play

But I don’t see the machines so clearly now

And I’ve lost track of my pursuit for pain

For the sake of another forgotten name.

But now I realise that I can lose

And you can scar more than my body,

More even than my shattered soul.

Cry to me

And feed me my addictions

With touches that I vaguely remember,

And kisses that feel so familiar,

From images of faces that I have mislaid.

I feel like I’m loosing

Not only you, but the strengths of my mind

My machines are breaking down

And I don’t know how to repair myself,

And the voices keep calling things that I can’t properly hear

And your voice keeps crying in my mind,

And every teardrop explodes a million forgotten feelings

And I recall another memory.

Can love really be so shallow ?

Give me something to relive all the pain

I need something extra,

I need something more than you can give

Or that you can make me feel.

And although I try to protest my false addiction

I still turn, and run,

To the comfort of poison,

To the sanctuary of broken minds.

(CRY TO ME; By A R J Abranson; 28-06-94/09:00 & 08-02-96/22:29)

My poetry anthology, Wild Card Symphonies, is available to buy now on Lulu in both Softcover and Dust Jacket Hardcover.

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Wild Card Symphonies, Cry To Me & This Graveyard Heart are Copyright ©2015, Angus Abranson. All rights reserved.
Cover design by George C. Cotronis (Ravenkult Studios, www.ravenkult.com) Copyright © 2015 Angus Abranson
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
No reproduction in part or in whole without prior written permission from the author of the copyright owner.