Letting Go
“Happy Mother’s day!” she says, standing in the front-porch. “These are for you,” thrusting two balloons in my hand, tied with ribbons ...
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Singapore, 1940
a "pome", more formal in form, less effective in effect... a sestina of sorts...
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High Summer
I wrote this at the time of the Boscastle disaster, but it could almost apply to anywhere and anytime even this past Summer.
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Odds On
The red note’s my last I grinned mirthlessly You couldn’t turn it into a family, could you? Do you take me for a mid-wife? A banker then Did you write this note?
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In a Coffee Shop, I've Met the Guy in Faded Jeans
I was so sure that the three leaflets on my notebook had secret pages in it.
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Blonde Butterfly
The pub is low lit with gargling springs In the corner sit a group of old caterpillar things Their clothes aren’t designer but there’s contented rapport
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The Angel of Mons - chapter four
Four
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Write a poem...
Write a poem lay it down make a stranger smile or frown words of wisdom wild ideas whispers from the bygone years be it simple be it vague be it filled with fear and rage
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2005 the beginning of birth pangs
This poem was born out of the events of the year 2005. Its primarily spoken word poetry for the stage.
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- 745 reads