Biography of Stephen Loomes
Stephen Loomes Poems
So much heart so much love so much need Janis Joplin I cry to watch your heart bleed What a talent you brought to the world Time has seen your legend unfold
Arrivederci Roma (sung with Perry Como’s Croon) I leave a dirty Roma
Tribute To William Blake
The engraver from Broad Street Would not kiss the feet Of a creeping Jesus When that spirit came
Hello Dear Reader
Hello dear reader, You have come to see my words I hope you are doing well It sure does mean a lot to me
Viktor Frankl, Mans Search For Meaning
Guiding us all through endless night A student of Freud, a genius too Hated by the Nazis Because he was a Jew
Unhappy within themselves They become irritable Disappointed with those around them Quarrels erupt
A Walk To Mutton Bird Island, Coffs Harb...
Today I walked with my favourite woman, my wife To the seat half-way up the climb to Mutton Bird Island sanctuary I had to stop to save my breath for fear of losing my equanimity Sitting there breathless, I quietly smiled as aging women pounded past
Ode To Jim Morrison
When the Renaissance as we call it Filled the world with wonder From human minds and hands We all became much smarter
At Jim Morrison's Grave
At the Cemetery of Pere Lachaise, there was a grave without a tombstone there. There was a plastic wreath and scrawls of chalk.
1. Birth You stick your head out and there’s lights blazing and people Talking and there you are in the middle of this world Which dances in infinity somewhere around the third planet out
Everyone is fighting, Within their psyche's envelope They each, have a cross to bear The Nazarene is a teacher of hope
The Dog In The Yard
Looking out the window Because of the barking I see a small backyard And a terrier pacing up and down
A Nod And Wink To Palladas
The great William Shakespeare His thoughts to inspire Dipped into Palladas often To put ink in his pen
When I Wake Up
When I wake up I have a dazed pee And wander out to make a cup of tea While the kettle boils, I lean on the sink A little stunned I wait for my brain to think
At Jim Morrison's Grave
At the Cemetery of Pere Lachaise,
there was a grave without a tombstone there.
There was a plastic wreath
and scrawls of chalk.
Across the mound the stray cats, scavenged
for there was no living prey to stalk;
While the earth consumed the screaming flesh,
the voyeurs came from cul de sacs'
to smell the grave and hurry back.