John Thorkild Ellison

Rookie - 113 Points (17/04/51 / Edinburgh)

John Thorkild Ellison Poems

1. A Day In March 8/22/2005
2. The Terror Through The Wall 8/20/2005
3. A Walk In The Country 1/29/2006
4. I'D Like A Bit 4/2/2006
5. Brief Homosexual Encounter 4/3/2006
6. Canon Square 4/4/2006
7. Repartee 4/4/2006
8. Hosanna 8/25/2005
9. R.I.P. 8/27/2005
10. The Failed Mystic 8/27/2005
11. Jeopardy 8/20/2005
12. Mourning Sickness 8/19/2005
13. A Lost Child 8/30/2005
14. Loneliness 9/3/2005
15. Lovers 9/24/2005
16. Goodbye To A Nun 9/30/2005
17. Hilary 10/8/2005
18. The Goddess 11/16/2005
19. On Chittoe Heath 11/16/2005
20. Epiphany 11/17/2005
21. An Alien's Valentine 1/8/2006
22. Lost Souls 11/18/2006
23. Nocturne 11/26/2006
24. Advice To A Pale Lover 12/5/2006
25. Vodka Haiku 12/30/2006
26. Winter Night 1/5/2007
27. A Fantasy 4/27/2007
28. What The Critics Said 5/4/2007
29. Therapissed Off 5/23/2007
30. To Dr X. 5/23/2007
31. Girl In A Bar 7/21/2007
32. Govt. Health Warning. 8/4/2007
33. Laziness 8/4/2007
34. Lines To A Sick Friend 8/25/2007
35. Limerick For Christ 8/27/2007
36. Lachrymae Christi 10/2/2007
37. Lust Haiku 10/7/2007
38. Smoker's Haiku 10/8/2007
39. Judas 10/15/2007
40. Nausea (La Nausee) 10/16/2007
Best Poem of John Thorkild Ellison

'For Godsake Hold Your Tongue And Let Me Love'

Please be quiet, little friend,
You're driving me right round the bend!
I'm sick and tired of your whining voice,
You're giving me no other choice
But to slam the door and go outside
Which really hurts my foolish pride.
You're keen to voice your point of view
But for Heaven's sake I have feelings too!
When will you ever give me peace?
When will your petty grumblings cease?
Don't you remember there was a time
We loved each other very much,
We trembled at each other's touch
And quarrelling just seemed a crime?
I've really had enough of this! ...

Read the full of 'For Godsake Hold Your Tongue And Let Me Love'

A Certainty

</>Blond bicycles writhe in the swimming pools
of dark professors.
'What rubbish! ' you say, but I've seen it myself:
Blond bicycles writhe in the swimming pools
of dark professors.

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