Owain Glyn

Owain Glyn Poems

41. The Morning After 11/21/2012
42. My Every Need 5/25/2013
43. Sunday School 12/6/2012
44. My Hairdresser 1/24/2013
45. Legacy (Dedicated To Lynnefyncherspringarden) 1/27/2013
46. My Son, My Son 1/19/2013
47. Whumplethump Goes Missing (Part One) 2/28/2013
48. Insanity 5/13/2013
49. Aunt Aggies Visit (The Family Ghost) 12/12/2012
50. I'M Not Frightened (Really) 1/10/2013
51. Do You Remember? 11/19/2012
52. If I Had Time 12/2/2012
53. In Dreams 7/22/2013
54. City Streets. 6/13/2013
55. Pickpockets. 6/3/2013
56. Dark Streets Black Souls 3/18/2013
57. Changes 4/13/2013
58. Turning 2/18/2013
59. Without You 1/30/2013
60. If (I Only Had One Leg) 11/26/2012
61. Christmas Cheer 11/19/2012
62. Vegetable Abuse 1/16/2013
63. That Cat 11/20/2012
64. The Party 3/2/2013
65. Drummer Boy 5/13/2013
66. If Only 6/3/2013
67. Lost 6/5/2013
68. This One And Only Life 12/19/2012
69. The Poet 12/16/2012
70. Tomorrow 1/11/2013
71. Exmoor 4/30/2013
72. Brain And Cake. 4/17/2013
73. Resident Evil 7/25/2013
74. The Planets 11/29/2012
75. The Dark Road 12/17/2012
76. Among The Stars 5/27/2013
77. A Soft Summer's Day 7/22/2013
78. The Four Horsemen Of The Apocalypse 4 Death 4/18/2013
79. Ethelred 11/29/2012
80. Just You 2/10/2013

Comments about Owain Glyn

  • Karen Sinclair (3/13/2013 5:38:00 PM)

    Owain Glyn is a great poet and his whumpleflump series is a wonderful humorous stories in poem form. Great fun and uplifting.

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    0 person did not like.
  • Diane Hine Diane Hine (2/6/2013 2:18:00 AM)

    Ha! brilliant, I'm wary of people like that too.

Best Poem of Owain Glyn

Men In Grey Suits

There are men in grey suits who infest sand built towers,
Where they sit and they spit out their venom for hours,
Making judgments and plans which they say we must follow,
Leaving them to get fat in the shit that they wallow.

The Bishops and Priests and their dumb acolytes,
Spew out sermons and edicts and meaningless rites,
Whilst abusing the young that are left in their care,
They preach God's holy goodness in which we can share.

There are Judges, who sit, every day, upon high,
Peering down on the wicked they're placed there to try,
With their ...

Read the full of Men In Grey Suits

Never Go Back

I crept along the silent streets, their familiarity painful and accusing.
Even in this darkness the sick worm of cowardice drives me to the shadows.
I know each brick, each door, each window pane,
We huddled in these doorways, to touch, to kiss, and to escape the rain.

The filthy soot-smeared streetlights search me out, to interrogate me, each in turn,
What are you doing here? Why have you come back? What do you want?
I know these pavements, each and every crack,
We trod them in our

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