Farewell to my Muse ...
I am now empty I am … Yin without Yang Strawberries without cream Love without hate Simon without Garfunkle For … Late last night I caught my Muse packing his bags I pleaded
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Pops
We buried Pops in his Sunday Best On that wet November morn I stood there in MY Sunday Best Shattered Tattered Torn “Private Viewing” an hour before
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my mind has gone - or - has yours too
twas it the the night before christmas when all through the house, ran a mad man on vodka, screaming my name is not klaus, picking up half an orange from a big jellied eel,
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hearts that bleed - or - does anyone care?
a sadness grips my heart tight fisted, locked in my eyes a fear deep and twisted, never before have i felt so unwhole, not the spark of a smile can i muster or cojole,
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The general election.
The general election fast approach, reelin lies, The political jellyfish elite, pretend to have spines, For a short period, no vague indifference, the illusion of ties
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Monday Sonnet: On clothes
Written when a friend commissioned a poem on clothes. Enjoy!
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City of Secrets Chapter 4
The next chapter of City of Secrets. The plot thickens and my need for comments grows.
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EXILE
EXILE Do we have to leave? Is it physical or mental? Mental separation From our roots Forced or self-imposed Shut ourselves from loved ones Families and friends Neighbours or communities
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BEYOND THE GRAVE (2)
BEYOND THE GRAVE (2) Nice to meet you, he said Had no chance to talk to you Before I died Now that we are out of sight We can listen to what People say about us
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Conversations Beyond The Grave ( 1 )
BEYOND THE GRAVE ( 1 ) There was a terrible car crash A crowd gathered Tried to save the people inside But failed The driver and an official At the back had died The pocket of the official
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