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War, peace and social injustice
Nationalism, is a stinking illusion. Unnatural fools!
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- 212 reads
On bowel cancer in seventeen syllables
Black blood, red blood, polyps. Constipation. Diarrhoea, Always check yer poo.
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- 1 comment
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- 367 reads
The Palace burned
not a cheery little number - nor fancy for a palace. An edit..
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- 4 comments
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- 1314 reads
Home Sweet Home
I have been living on my property forty-five years today. I moved here on February 25, 1977. When I moved on my property, I was only five years old...
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- 190 reads
The King of Sulaco
This poem's title is the name of a character from Nostromo by Conrad, but it has nothing at all to do with the novel. I just liked the name. Image is free for non-commercial use from piqsels.com
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- 520 reads
Surrender
Within a scene of chaos dipped into a Sunday beach sunset sharing sky with retreating tide an ocean of wrinkles. Silence on the beach and golden...
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- 395 reads
Forthcoming-Cont
(This is a revision of the first post [Still not my satisfied complete]) This is an excerpt of a story in my works. Please give your harshest/...
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- 226 reads
Rituals of The Lenten Season
In an Irish-Catholic neighborhood like South Buffalo the Friday night fish fry, served during Lent, is a ritual as unbending and as regular as Sunday...
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- 341 reads
Orbiting (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)
then is when and when is then and now is always ever being Orbiting (Scared!!! addicting in the serpentining jaws of just begging to be seen) we're...
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- 183 reads
Finally, Freedom
Stuart was desperate to get there, desperate to get anywhere in fact. He had spent the last six years in a maximum security prison in the town of...
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- 413 reads
GAR2 RGI1 AEP2 Y922
Monday had started out like just a normal day. I was at work and had been very busy, so it was a nice shift. After I finished work, I went straight...
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- 4 comments
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- 1036 reads
Parables of Clippety (9) - The Big Match
They linked arms and walked through the turnstiles. The crowd was already singing, the din of thousands of voices bouncing around inside the stadium...
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- 593 reads
Hope
Hope is you struggling through another day with faith anchored in your soul scorching my fears into smitherens Set alight by each undiminisible coal...
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- 243 reads
An Unpublished Story
A Fibonacci poem.
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- 6 comments
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- 1044 reads
When I was a log
When I was a log When I was a log I used to lay on the ground and folk would trip over me. The leaves would nestle around me in the woodland floor...
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- 489 reads
When I was a car
When I was a car, children sat in on my seats Laughed, cried, dropped conkers and sweet wrappers Lost scarves Small ones threw up over me on long...
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- 262 reads
February Song (after Auden)
Now the bombs are falling fast...
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- 219 reads
On visiting the Van Gogh exhibition, Salford, February 2022
Advertised as a sensory experience but failed to show his mind, his desperate letters to his brother Theo, self-mutilation and suicide?? His ginger...
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- 193 reads