Autobiography

Is it just me?

Is it just me who gets those days when everything, just isn't going your way? Am i the only one who turns everything off, even when i could leave them on standbye? Am i the first person

Time Never Ends ( A Semetric )

Poetry has a voice unique and one respected over the centuries . It is a disciplined expression of the written word that talks in a specific form .

My Neurosis

The first short story which delivered any substantial "oomph"

Bench of Life

Sitting on the bench of life Thinking of all the missed opportunities All the people who little by little quashed your hopes and dreams Pick yourself up and dust yourself off

"My First Flight"

Don't stand on tip-toes use a parachute? I will never fly now?

Instant

I’d never pick you in an instant I’d never have known how to choose Yet her face in my mind so insistent Tells me I'm going to lose Create as you will Your fantasy world

As I watch you leave.

my friend left today

Anticipation

Tomorrow I get my AS level exam results so I guess my phobia is the grades ;) Grades! Grades! The envelopes shriek at the irony that a poet should be afraid of letters.

Therapy

nasty poem about nasty therapy

Humanity Lost, An Introduction

An introduction to my new piece of work, Humanity Lost'.

Rescue of a Rock and Roll Child

Chapter One: The Gambolling Baby Boomer Birth of a Rock and Roll Child

Fortunate Child?

Now, I don't walk around in any sort of masquerade. One thing I sure do know is, my love and dignity will never fall, never will these be involved in any cascade.
Cherry

Fear of Fear

A go at this weeks IP
Cherry

With These Hands

With These Hands We laughed about the notion Of me checking her breasts For signs of darkness I prepared myself for the work ahead She smiled when I said A strip search is necessary

One in a million

Just another in a million Taken by the waves Relentless in her current Can we e'er go our own way. When she's calm and still We sets us in the sand She brings peace in the end

I am.

I am the girl I am because of everyone I've known Each life has left its imprint on me Spirit, flesh and bone Each heartbeat joins the rhythm of the band to which I walk

THE BEAUTY OF NATURE

"say what you see! this is not an optical illusion challenge me!

The Things You Do - a job is a job

The Things You Do I once worked in a rope factory my job was to join a length of rope together. I was just trying to make ends meet I got the job by pulling some strings

70th Birthday Thanks To Our Wonderful Daughter and Son-In-law

Don't have big candle self lighting if you don't want to give away one's age. old as you feel.ugh! I have a prayer+ candle to It's not what you have! It's the way that you do it! Song?
Cherry

Requiem Anon.

Inspired by the loss of my friend's father, I never knew him. I wish I had.

Small as I Was

Short poem about a small person who grew up

Afghanistan

Afghanistan We are not soldiers in name alone We are not made of steel We are not pins on a military map And the bullets are as real As the blood we lose
Poem of the week

The Poet Laid Bare

Dr Wu and his assistants gather round the mortuary table. 'Choose your instruments carefully' says the doctor. 'This one looks tougher than old stewing steak.' He handles
Cherry

Too unimpressed to dress

Sharp neon borders And septic smiles Are everywhere In the Hotel bar. It's 10pm, I got in late And techno music fists, fists, fists punishment into my ears

"Colours 0f The Rainbows" Perfectly True - Updated April 29th.2010

What a stir these flowers caused. It's like people looking out behind lace curtains?

Secondary School (Part 1)

The eleven-plus and Secondary school....

Buskers Blessings

Blessed are the poor but even the poor felt sorry for the busker .

Tilting At Windmills

So much energy all gone to waste...

The Buskers Crossing

Through raging waters there is a way . Let the busker play .

An Ode to a Feast

Titanic cottonwoods dancing in the wind, my dad and I smoking rich cigars, pink and blue clouds hanging in the sky, we reading "beat" gems and sharing point of view,

Busker On The Bus

So many rivers to swim , miles to go and mounatins to climb until the busker can get where he is going .

The Busker Stranded

The travels of a busker and his string leaves him stranded for a while .

Struggling

Could this be my swan song?

Proud

The same nasty job and the same decorations, The desperate faces of helpless sweatpals, Bright shouting ads at half-dead metro stations, Then evenings with you in a dark empty cell.
Cherry

Blossoming

A very personal poem for me. 'At fifteen I stood alone in my bedroom. Locked the door.'

I Write

A little something to read during mental blocks.....^^

Blue Glass and Bingo

In memory of my dearest friend Betty, who I miss more than words could ever say.

Where is my mind?

description of my undiagnosed illness and how it makes me feel

Music And Me

A personal story of the music that meant something to me in life.

Summer's Mourn

Re-posting this one. The second piece I did on ABC; because I like it - and it is like a winter's day here today ;)

Busker On Board

Every journey begins with taking the first sall step. Here is where the busker finds his feet .

Busking For You

The story of the busker begins here in Australia .

Find a way

I've got to find a way, Back to higher ground, I was there before, Today I fell back down. I didn't mind to lose, But now I have to win, Your voice invading thoughts, I feel you coming in,
Cherry

Something to Say

I warm my bare feet on the dash board, sitting in the boyish manner that makes you laugh, as we drive up Avondale Road.
Cherry

The Vermeer

An art lover inexplicably overwhelmed.
Cherry

Rolling back by 42 years

He was standing near the policed barrier that was zero point for reaching Ram Janam Bhoomi Garbh Sthal.

CANDY FLOSS

never buy helium balloon until in future you reach your destination you may take off to? This I did on way home from Wedding St.Leoards- on-Sea-on- train.

A little drop of poison

A little drop of poison A little drop of poison Put some toad in the hole A little water in your blood Leaves a tattoo on your soul The doctor said beware of dying

The written words

I had a feeling for print, not new but urgent. It was ferried by thoughts, cold from being stuck in muds of memories.

No fixed abode

I often long to escape the place I call home.

Reaping

This is about growing with God and nature. We reap in the spirit and grow spiritually to be strong and to do good hopefully. We grow serene and wise.
Cherry

“Science Facts: Vanilla from Madagascar”

The Conquistadors tore a hole into paradise and saw paradise and touched paradise and tasted paradise and, commanded by God, meant to take it all back to their gray castles. The