Irene C S ClarkHogg Poems

And so, within the mind of man,
The cauldron spits.
Then births the sprite
Capable of freedom
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I see a man with twisted limbs
Who has wheels to take him home
A kindly man, a friendly man,
Who need never ride alone.
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Do poets really have twisted minds
For they don’t view the world as others do?
It is painted with a much richer pallet
Using words of a varied hue.
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If a woman is a lady
Then things will always be the same
For time won’t change her elegance
Her poise and beauty will remain.
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The asylum looks so stark and bare,
But still a shade is drifting there.
She is haunted by secrets from the past,
Though she has gained her freedom at last.
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Come, walk with me
Through the vales of my mind,
Climb the high mountains
Of inspiration we will find.
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Forsooth sweet maid, tempt me not, my plea,
with winsome smile and sparkling een,
that draws me to thy fulsome breast.
Twixt Heaven and Hell to place one kiss,
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By the north harbour wall,
The lovers met and embraced.
For a few precious hours they were free,
So they dined on fresh prawns
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Is it a god who speaks my name
Through the thunder in the sky?
Are there gods who are waging war
In a great battle up on high?
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The Sausage Machines


Neat little children march into schools,
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