Douglas Scotney Poems

Obese, to whom Languor was Lore,
saw Torpor in wait at The Door.

Before he had lost all rigour,
...

Daily chores,
shot with resignation more than mirth,
for health,
sought mirth for their amusement.
...

I may have to make a choice
between humanity, mystery and art.

If I ignore the existence of the giant
...

'He wanted to live, so he killed himself.'

I'm not a novel writer
nor want to be one,
...

In a prime time meeting
of age and youth,
youth's mentor,
which had lavished powers for show,
...

In taking on his specialty
he was taking comfort
in responsibility and accountability,
in both of which
...

Irony,
You will find
In love stirred by denial.
In ego stirred by denial,
...

whatever artifice tarts her power
to neither fear nor shame,

whatever lust, boredom, cruelty and blindness,
...

Around
'Without getting around there is no getting around'
Or
'There is no getting around without getting around'
...

Wilfred Owen showed me,
with evidence,
what I thought couldn't be, was,
what I thought is, isn't
...