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AFTER
Since this Homeless man left Afghanistan long lean years ago he steps softly on the wrong side of sidewalk’s downtown busy place where white concrete...
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- 1 read
I Have to Pee QW
Women’s I push the door and beyond I see The female eye Spec-ula-ting They see my rejection My pierced tongue My speed To fall into the category -...
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- 4 reads
Z
When I picture you I see a little Girl, dark-haired, chewing her lip. Seriously working to make A password to open up the world-- To recognize you...
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- 4 reads
In Your Shoes (2nd go at this)
The bag's bright pink, prawn cocktail clear as new words. There are no prawns now the sea is plastic soup. You wear shoes so your feet don't touch...
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- 12 reads
Old Tapes
The tapes are ragged. I listen to them morning and night. They are my shacharit, my evensong "I will be there" You sing, the hiss of time Mocking us...
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- 31 reads
Trilobite
Lisa called from a mineral shop In Nashville, she'd found a trilobite. I gave a long-held, treasured one To R., and having never quit looking Found...
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- 4 comments
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- 48 reads
Stolen Stop Sign
Many injuries have occurred because of this stupid son of mine. My youngest son is so ignorant that he decided to steal a stop sign. I went in his...
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- 10 reads
The River And The Fisherman
The river and the fisherman An alabaster jar Among the discard Embedded in the mud. The fisherman Well trained in the ancient art of piscary Catches...
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- 34 reads
That One Big Role
Jamie settled into his seat on tube train, as always he'd chosen the middle one of the bench seat, plugged his MP3 player's headphones into his ears...
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- 59 reads
Road Rage
I saw two cars up ahead of me the other day and it was a terrifying example of road rage as each fought to be first.
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- 12 reads
All I Want For Christmas
All I Want For Christmas By Paul McCann There’s a fog that’s over London and a mist is in my eyes , for its coming close to Christmas and I’ve no one...
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- 8 reads
Oh Paul
Ahem...before for anybody says anything, this is tongue in cheek. Every morning, before I do anything else, I give myself 10 minutes (no more) to write a really loose sonnet about whatever comes into my head. My only rule is it has to rhyme. Nothing else matters - I don't even have to agree with what I'm writing. Technically, as sonnets they're pretty damned dire - but that doesn't matter either. By the time I'm done the mind has warmed up.
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- 5 comments
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- 23 reads
St John’s (after Van Morrison)
Cerys playing tunes this morning on my radio birds chirp the trees of St John’s and I’ve fine coffee from Guatemala the sun streams through and a...
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- 23 reads
Prepared for danger
[Continuing the hymn-for-Sundays series] Wise words to treasure, hoard – keys from the Super-Lord: keep constantly in thought life-tools to use as...
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- 9 reads
Those Memories Made on Teardrop Lake – (45) Mercedes (Part 06)
Jake and Mercedes walked down the lane towards the Shallowfield Lodge Hotel and then proceeded to the Hotel jetty where Jake had his Dinghy tied up.
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- 84 reads
JEAN PIERRE AND HIS LETTERS
Jean Pierre coated his French Letters
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- 69 reads
Yvonne Makin’s House of Fun – (23) Popped in the Quad (Part 05)
Yvonne assigned Aidan McCauley to be Lesley’s guide and escort to show her niece around the establishment and she said. “Show her everything and don’t spare her blushes”
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- 55 reads
BOYHOOD
There goes that Gene Autry song once more – Back in the Saddle Again on a hit parade of memories when boys sought out a hero or two with Roy Rogers...
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- 18 reads
The Trysting Tree
You were married - I wasn't 'quite' free When we met at the LSE At a talk on anthropology You liked the talk and smiled at me Reiterating the point...
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- 46 reads