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0222 Return To The Golden Age

We are like salmon, swimming back upstream:
leaping against waterfalls that thwart,
cut and bruised; but strong; our only dream
return to source; no thought save source of thought;

! The Couple In The Evening Class

As the new year’s evening class
filed in, in varying displays of enthusiasm or cool,
discreetly summing up their tutor
you couldn’t help but notice them

! Washedaye's Metaphysikale. For Tara.

Myne mynde to me a tumbledryere ysse,
where muste I watche my scrumpled, worn-oute thoughtes
seeke their redemptione in Hys watere’s grace;
thynkes-bubbles that do forme and burste in ayre,

! The Guy Who Ones Us..

and there’s this guy,
hits my poems every day
that’s a lot of poems

A Defense Of Bad Poetry

'Naff' comes back as 'cutting-edge'...
though dogs may have their day,

0109 Upon The Feast Of Saint Valentine

roses are red
(well, some are white) :
Saint Valentine says
he needs poets to write...

Fourteen Lines

Old poets, torturing their thoughts to rhyme,
their lovely English verse to end-words tied,
oft found just cause to moan of 'envious Time',
and seek immortal fame in 'Time defied';

0194 At Last

At last I’m old enough

old enough not to be
embarrassed when

0013 Aftermath: London, July 7,2005

Two days after,
when they'd cleared away the mangled
meaningless twist of metal,
familiar red paint smeared with oily black,

! ! The Teacher

I wish I’d known him better.
But our respect for him was such
that you only spoke to him
when you needed to.

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8/2/2021 9:18:57 PM #