Alan Bruce Thompson


Alan Bruce Thompson Poems

41. Free Ticket To Heaven 8/31/2014
42. Managing Madness 8/31/2014
43. Waiting For The Light 3/27/2014
44. Mining My Clathrates 5/9/2014
45. The Vehicle Of The Mind 5/9/2014
46. Fish Play 5/9/2014
47. Travelling First Without Class 11/20/2014
48. End Of The Day 11/20/2014
49. Tunnel 11/20/2014
50. The Cause Of Tsunamis 11/20/2014
51. Soaring Eagle 9/11 11/20/2014
52. Bronze Not Gold 11/20/2014
53. Grandpa's Genes 11/20/2014
54. Midsummers Day 3/27/2014
55. This Is My Way 12/31/2014
56. Isolation Of The Mobile Phone 12/31/2014
57. No Plan For Man 12/31/2014
58. High Speed Going Nowhere 12/31/2014
59. Travelling South 1/13/2015
60. The Way Back 1/13/2015
61. Facing The Wall 1/13/2015
62. Walls Of Paper 2/14/2015
63. Abc Of Terror 3/12/2015
64. The Morning Victim 5/13/2015
65. Catching Up With Myself 5/13/2015
66. Final Goodbye 5/13/2015
67. Anxious And Nervous 5/13/2015
68. What Was This Feeling Called Love? 5/13/2015
69. Ascent From Resentment 7/21/2015
70. The Holy Mans Lie 7/21/2015
71. Evil Eye 7/21/2015
72. Fuzzball 7/21/2015
73. Dolphins Delight 7/21/2015
74. The Time Of Pee Huck (As In Pharaoh) 3/12/2015
75. The Ear Of The Beholder 2/14/2015
76. Strangers Each Day 1/13/2015
77. The Disappearance Of Time 11/20/2014
78. Late Arrival 3/27/2014
79. Looking Through The Mirror 9/9/2013
80. Into The Nursing Home 9/9/2013
Best Poem of Alan Bruce Thompson

Venus Personified

She stood there pouting, adopting a film star pose,
As her curvaceous virile body, pushed shape into her clothes.

She perched on her stiletto heels, threw back her blond hair,
She stood high above the crowd, aristocratic, without care.

She rehearsed for hours to become Venus personified,
She got some men excited, the others she mortified.

She swayed along, her hips swinging, so vain.
And all of this performance to collect tickets on a train?

Read the full of Venus Personified

Autumn Means Winter

It's the time of year when the sun begins to turn down,
The leaves start turning, they fall then they're blown.

Each day is shorter, each night a little long,
Quite soon at midnight we'll hear the midday bird song.

The evenings are cooler, the mornings quite chill,
It won't be long before the temperature's at nill.

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