Since I hear no clamor from publishers wanting to publish anything written by me, I have decided to publish my "poetry" here. I suspect it will make them look quite silly. That is, if this blog is on their reading list. Most of these lines appeared as throwaways on assorted Facebook groups. When you read them you will know why they were thrown away. Don't say I didn't warn you. "Oh Alright," you say, "Let me read…
I wrote this poem for no reason For it's really just the season. This poem is quite small and it's very stupid and all. Tubetops, when they put these on you also get those bare knees on. You know this is really quite silly For I'm writing stuff willy nilly. You may exclaim "Oh Lord!" "He really is so odd!" It's not because of the terrain hilly Or a preponderance of rose and lily. In fact there…
You've said a lot. So have I. You've done a lot. Have I? I've thought a lot. So have you. I've tried a lot. Have you? You've hurt a lot. So Have I. You've worked a lot. Have I? I've cried a lot. So have you. I've smiled a lot. Have you?
Left home and my heart behind with our future on my mind. Just me? Only me? Seems it's me, not we. Looks like it's going to rain. Lord, I don't want that again. It's only me here. Could do with you here. But then, again, is that true? Will you paint my rainbow blue? I think it's just me. I know it's just me.
I cannot lie - it is I. I don't mean to boast or preen but it is true I shopped for shoes and wrote about my woes. The blog it is dry, the humour forced. The Pomes are silly and the stories long A rant or two - There's even a song And I love it. For mine it is and mine alone I gave it all it has and will atone for what I gave it…
He’s a good friend to me, he is.
Wherever I go he goes before me.
In a public urinal when I go to piss
He alerts me to dally not, but pee
quickly and get the hell out. (more…)
It’s Thursday! You lucky people get to read a very old pome! Enjoy! (more…)
Now is the season for death. A death that will bring life once again, but for that life we must die now. This is the season for love. A love that will take you further apart, but for that love, this love must die. The present is doomed. The past misunderstood. The future? The future is known. The future is death. The thing we call love is filled with the thing we call hate. The one and…
