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Parkinson's Awareness Week My third poem The Adversary Waltz!
Yep, he's not getting any more of me.
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- 1727 reads
A Report on Question Time in The House written in the 1970's Re-posted
Memories of Maggie! Yes - It all comes flooding back!
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- 800 reads
Excerpt from Bobby Halfway Sets sail (London waits for no one)
from Bobby Halfway Sets Sail
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Aging Gracefully
A gift and a curse we all possess.
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- 697 reads
In default of
would be uncle who make you fall-you the tyranny
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- 409 reads
On this your birthday
I have watered a well spring Till its continents floated by And still I’ve had springs run dry Leaving me nothing more to say I have watered a well spring And poured a little salt
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- 357 reads
Ashtray blues
I have those ashtray blues Not wanting to walk Another day in these shoes Singing these butt end songs It’s never easy enough for us But still they contain Some essence of what
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- 461 reads
Spent
This was a shorter piece than I had planned. But autobiographical writing has never been my strong suit. So I figured I needed to get my feet wet before taking the big plunge.
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Dark Horses
Dark horse walks into the room where there's no room to swing a cat Needs must when the devil drives, I put down that glass and placed a bet a skeptical dicer with eyes half closed
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- 523 reads
you drew on your cigarettes
You'd stand drawing on a cigarette with such languor and contempt. A scream of dissent, to the requirements of loss, you know, that debt that we must all at times settle.
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- 490 reads
Fake / Lineage
I wouldn't say I was a fake exactly, but I don't have a catalogue or great literary lineage deposited in my depleting grey matter.
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- 1659 reads
Born under the brightest star
Savior I see through my minds eye, A tale of greatness awaits Your name for eons etched in stone A legacy of rule on the highest throne.
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- 564 reads
Captive / Contradiction
The place approaches and almost everything that I am ceases to be The groundedness of me in the earth gives itself up and the familiar madness creeps in The differences are subtle
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- 1911 reads
April
Effortlessly spreading butter from the dish without mulling over which knife to use the joy that there’ll be no doleful waiting time for the stuff to melt sufficiently on the toast
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- 1289 reads
A Lost
where are you? wandering the streets, looking for a home looking for someone who understands, looking for someone who loves. so many days have you spent in the streets, living under bridges,
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- 638 reads
Here
It’s here: our pulses slowly start to quicken; While dancing with bright heat fuelled eyes, They Linger long- then slowly start to glisten, As our warming hands- reach out for soft
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- 424 reads
The Man with the Earring
There was someone, some time, somewhere.
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- 1703 reads
The lady in blue
For the yesterday lady in
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POEM: Certainty.
When love settles in the heart, and warms it.
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- 501 reads
Death of Connor Sanderson: Chap 1:Part 6.
London,1910: Abraham Stoker's 'Dracula' had made barely a ripple in the pool of human consciousness. Connor Sanderson is a vampire. He just does not know it yet...this morning he woke up dead.
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- 655 reads