jerry hughes Poems
- Hone Tuwhare's: Rain Rain I can hear you making small ...
- A Leaf 'I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a ...
- Nil Desperandum It was cold and wet and there he was, ...
- An Aussie Summer The sun rises early. 'Bloody daylight ...
- After The First Death* Amidst the rubble and confusion a ...
- Eighty-One Ye gods, eighty one! Who'd have thought it? ...
- In The Name Of The Father In the name of the Father, ...
Frankly it's a miracle I can write. Born dyslexic I had to be a dunce at school, and I was. Persistence, and a little voice within told me I could learn just as well at the school of hard knocks, and I did.
What you'll read in my writing is a gaggle of experiences, love, lust, hurt and pain. My loathing of war, especially the miserable bastards who promote and profit by it.
Also a life-long support for the not so fortunate with whom I relate. If you find a spelling mistake or two, that's the way flip flops. more »
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Hone Tuwhare's: Rain
I can hear you
making small holes
in the silence
If I were deaf
the pores of my skin
would open to you
should know you
by the lick of you
if I were blind
special smell of you
when the sun cakes
when the wind drops
But if I
should not hear
smell or feel or see
you would still
wash over me
Hone Tuwhare 1922-2008