Category Archives: Poetry

Old Sailor Fisherman

A grizzled old man Each wrinkle on his aged face Told volumes of his boat excursions Where weather and cold days at sea Shrunk his skin into, scared creases. Waves, at times, higher than his old white hair Crashed thunderous … Continue reading

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Doctor Doom

Am I your patient, I’m not here for your merriment? I feel a bit like your lab-rat, You’ve prescribed me statins! You didn’t tell me I’m your experiment Will your statins, make me diabetic? I am not being in the … Continue reading

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The Great Escape

I go on holiday like an escaped prisoner The fearful airport has armed warders patrolling Surveillance cameras and hidden profilers Dogs sniffing, menacing, fear-inducing. Impeccable papers Confidence-inducing papers. My papers. My thousand yard death stare keeps them at bay Slitted … Continue reading

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Astral Projection.

All you need do is – relax sometime, between being awake before your mind slips, into dreaming; At that point – try lifting your spirit body out from your physical, being. There is no need to throw the duvet off, … Continue reading

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Passing over

Now a frail elderly man The new adventure calls Bereaved family will cry and weep None will know of his release. That pleasure, where, air is pure Parents, siblings await, his coming Loves he knew, in moments past Gather with … Continue reading

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A Genius Sighs

I sighed a melancholy sigh A Dostoyevskian sigh. A sigh from the bottom of my heart A sigh that said ‘Enough is enough.’ And I knew the end had come I am a genius, world-renowned An intellectual master of the … Continue reading

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Softly I walked on this good earth.

As a child my insouciance was palpable I crawled everywhere for a while Then I learned to stand and walk Later, ran to school in the rain. As a young man, I worked for others Vicissitude ever changing my thoughts … Continue reading

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Bungling Boris

Ever ready to shoot from the lip From a man who can’t comb his hair “Bungle” looks a dopey drip So ignorant he would make a Saint swear. Rude to those who wear a corduroy jacket From a lad who … Continue reading

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Old Age

It is said, three score years and ten Is your allotted span So after seventy, you have to wonder, when? Especially now you’re a shaky, old man. If lucky, I won’t have to wait too long I won’t miss this … Continue reading

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The River

I wait for winter The river will freeze solidly It will flow next year (Chris)

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