Graham Stone

Rookie - 20 Points (19/1/90 / birmingham (England))

Graham Stone Poems

1. An Idle Musing 4/15/2009
2. Bitter Berries 4/15/2009
3. Dead Fag-Ends In The Snow 4/15/2009
4. How The Light Gets In 4/15/2009
5. Landscape Bereft 4/15/2009
6. My Cat 4/15/2009
7. Rain Upon A Window's Glass 4/15/2009
8. Rolling Past 4/15/2009
9. Roots I Onced Spied Clinging To A Soiled Gutter 4/15/2009
10. A Wind Of Life 4/15/2009
11. Passive Thing 4/15/2009
12. War Machine 4/15/2009
13. Where Melancholy Lies 4/15/2009
14. Doppelganger 4/16/2009
15. Hate You 4/16/2009
16. Feckless 4/16/2009
17. Incandescent 4/18/2009
18. Refraction 4/18/2009
19. Carcass 4/18/2009
20. A Poisoned River 4/15/2009
21. Saying Goodbye To David 4/25/2009
22. Discord 2/25/2010
23. As The Crow Clawed The Earth 10/14/2010
24. Against The Wall 10/25/2010
25. Petty Games 1/22/2011
26. The Burning Glass 1/22/2011
27. The Peace In Sleep 3/31/2011
28. Lines Extracted From A Dream 10/31/2009
29. Drag And Spit 5/27/2012
30. Summer's Ponder 7/28/2013
31. Your Stop 4/28/2009
32. The Grimy Cupboard Of An Art Class 5/6/2009
33. Train Of Thought 5/7/2009
34. The Beggar's Scapegoat 5/26/2009
35. Smile 6/1/2009
36. Flesh And Burns 7/5/2009
37. A Dictionary Full Of Words 9/14/2009
38. The Common Man 9/14/2009
39. The Regret Of Regretting 9/16/2009
40. Pepsi 9/14/2009

Comments about Graham Stone

  • Meghan - (3/9/2007 2:35:00 AM)

    I love your writing. Every single poem I read I liked. I can identify with alot of the themes and opinions you have, your writing is truly something unique, not to mention for your age. Look forward to reading more.

    Meghan

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Best Poem of Graham Stone

A Dirty Toy

I see it, the dead dirty doll
There between the sleepers of tracks,
And the creepers of weeds
I see it with its weathered cracks,
A deadening perhaps, of some child’s luckless dream.

I see it, stained with filth and rain
Some rag of fabric clung about its chest
With knees grazed by the passing train
Faded plastic, warped and stressed.

Some child I think loved it once
And must have cursed the day she let it go
But more I think in natural cruelty she threw it
To watch with curious guilt it crushed by the train below.

I think that dirty doll, ...

Read the full of A Dirty Toy

An Idle Musing

Can you bring a conscious face to the mirror?
Is it swollen when you see it?
Is it aghast, agape with shock or love?
What stares back at you when you look?

In my house, there are no mirrors.
Just my distorted doppelganger in the window’s glass.

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