Michael Shepherd Poems

your life’s a mess.
you’re a mess.
oh forget the details.
a mess. totally.
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So many centuries of Indian thought,
so many saints who found their inmost soul,
so much of observation of the mind,
so much of consciousness itself revealed...
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How I suspect ‘busy’ people…

Who said that spirituality
has anything to do with busyness..?
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God as Intelligent Designer
made the banana
of a suitable length and girth
for ladies to consume without mirth.
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Oh dear Armenians - you whom
Mother America took to her bosom,
helped so many of you to become
rich and powerful...
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when peace is forever,
why war?
It doesn't last
like peace.
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Yesterday, my dearest one,
you who are so dear to Me,
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The floods have ruined the British vegetable growers.
Tough. But
the supermarkets will just buy elsewhere,
we'll hardly notice, apart from TV's brief comment...
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Brothers – sisters – do our years last?
Day by day, they slip away…
those which were, no longer are;
those to come are not yet here.
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The Greeks said, those great Muses
who civilise us, grace our dance of life,
were once, before they were nine,
just three; and before that,
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