Poetry Drawer: He buys you Kebabs: Radio: If I was by Ben Macnair

He buys you Kebabs

He buys you Kebabs,
I would have bought you diamonds.
The diamond he bought you
Sits on your finger,
And grins, like the Cheshire Cat,
Just before it disappears into thin air.

Your smile,
Against the Sun.
He buys you Kebabs,
And you laugh,
Maybe you want to remember
Maybe your blood runs cold in your veins,
Maybe you gave this man your future,
And he gave the life you never knew you wanted.
The girl I knew,
The Woman I see,
Are one and the same.
Same grace, same smile, different name.
He buys you kebabs,
The diamond he bought you,
Sits on your finger and grins,
Just like the Cheshire Cat
Just before you disappear.


The Nude on the Radio
was followed by the Shipping Forecast,
He was all blushing, red skin,
and pink goosebumps,
no one knew about it,
as they thought it was the 
type of play on words
you hear on Radio 4
but the Leather seats,
the controller,
and the interviewer
know it to be a horrible reality.

If I was

If I was a Salmon,
I would not swim up stream,
just to spawn the once,
I would want a bigger part in the scheme.
If I was a racehorse,
I would not run,
You would have to make me.

If I was a lemming
I would get to the edge of the Cliff,
and then say after you.
If I was catch,
I would like a woman,
who was good and understands.
If I was a Politician, 
I would not make this about me,
I would not use Taxpayers’ money 
to feather my own nest,
and write purple prose
to commend my name in history.
If I were an actor,
and you were happy listening,
we would spend some time together,
ask where it was leading,
Was it serious?
Or just a bit of fun?
but I think our time together 
has had its run.

Ben Macnair is an award-winning Poet and Playwright from Staffordshire in the United Kingdom.

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