Raymond Farrell

Gold Star - 27,626 Points (02/09/1954 / Perth, Ontario)

Raymond Farrell Poems

521. What People Write On A Page 10/9/2016
522. Acts Of Self Condemnation 10/9/2016
523. All Nations Need Their Delusions 10/9/2016
524. Perhaps I Am Growing Wistful With Age 10/13/2016
525. Haiku (Watch Your Step) 10/13/2016
526. The State In Which We Exist 10/14/2016
527. John Ashbery 7/12/2016
528. Destroying A Culture 8/30/2016
529. Haiku (Us 2016 Presidential Election) 10/17/2016
530. October 18,2016 10/18/2016
531. Sleep 10/19/2016
532. Today's World! 10/28/2016
533. Bob Dylan's Nobel Prize 10/28/2016
534. Pro Choice? 11/2/2016
535. It Seems Odd To Me 11/3/2016
536. I Do Not Go There 11/6/2016
537. Haiku (An Empty Vessel) 11/6/2016
538. The Fascists When They Come 11/8/2016
539. Haiku (The Canadian Media) 11/8/2016
540. Not Too Many Years Ago 11/8/2016
541. First Snow 1/27/2017
542. Joe 1/27/2017
543. Poor Wee Mite 1/27/2017
544. The Snow Lay Blanket-Like Upon The Ground 1/27/2017
545. The Death Of Grammar 1/27/2017
546. What Must Be Done 1/27/2017
547. I Know A Youth 1/27/2017
548. If The Beothuk People Could Speak 1/27/2017
549. Day's End 1/27/2017
550. Fragment 1/27/2017
551. The Nectarines 1/27/2017
552. From Out Of The Kitchen Window 1/27/2017
553. O The Birds 1/27/2017
554. My Choice 1/27/2017
555. Postcard Winter Days 1/27/2017
556. Winter Wonderland 1/27/2017
557. The Hawk 1/27/2017
558. Death Of A Wolf 1/27/2017
559. Beneath Skinner, Inner Fascism 2/15/2017
560. Babylon Has Fallen 2/15/2017

Comments about Raymond Farrell

  • Sandra Feldman (5/1/2015 12:05:00 AM)

    Did he live?

    This poem is fantastic, best description of an
    optimist ever! so good to laugh for a change.
    thank you.

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Best Poem of Raymond Farrell

When It Comes To Poetry

When it comes to poetry
I feel like David
Before he went out to meet Goliath
Saul offered him his armour
His sword, his breast plate
His helmet, his shield
But in the end he refused
Saying he had not proved it
For he was but a shepherd
Not trained in the use
Of weapons of war
He took merely a sling shot
And five smooth stones
But any giant can be slain
By such a crude weapon
If the stone finds its mark
And I can offer
No grand words
No breath-taking imagery
I commend all
Who operate at those lofty heights
But I am just
A ...

Read the full of When It Comes To Poetry

Getting Shot In The Ass

Its been 50 years
Since I was shot in the ass
I know the word
Is considered crude by many
And those more high-browed
Would want me to use
A more educated term
Which reminds me
Of one of the old

[Report Error]