Biography of thomas spence
most of these poems are sketches, bare boned outlines; one day i hope to complete them. Feel free to look and leave a comment, either to praise them, or more likely, criticse. Like most I'm in it for the money and the woman.
thomas spence Poems
A Problem For A Muslim Woman On A Blind ...
She was a beauty and he was told he should date her, She was in a black shawl when they met a day later, But never guy For sparkling eyes
The Young Boy And The Imminent Autumn (U...
Young and wild, you chased the summer Through the blossoming trees. Old and weary, I trailed behind, saluting the sparrows with winter imprisoned in their wings.
An Apple A Day
Mad for all things sugar Sam thought Fruit was a bugger Yet his tongue occasionally met it,
The Bouquet that failed To flatter the newlyweds Is flung across the church, Caught by the old woman
The Atheist And The Sceptic.
I asked my friend where God lives. He shrugged and pointed to the sky,
Stories From My Street (1rst Draft)
Stories from my street
A Babel In 1b (1rst Draft)
A Babel in 1B
Younger Than You Feel.
A Penitent Philosophy
A repentant philosophy To understand the role you’ve been given you shit on the blessed scene,
After Completing A Haiku
After completing a haiku I’ve just discovered In seventeen syllables
A Matter Of Speech
My grandpa was an eloquent bloke Taking great pride in the way that he spoke, But whilst in mid speech Out dropped his false teeth
In The Shadow Of Genius (A Vilanelle By ...
When young boys become men they must decide On following a true and righteous path That will fill their parents with fervent pride.
Two Haikus On a Disappointing blind date:
The World Appears Before Me
The world appears before me. Perpetually balanced Between the states of beauty and the grotesque:
After The Fall.
…..And out of Eden Eve began to cry, 1
‘Now what will you compare my beauty to? ’
‘Oh foolish woman, ’ was Adam’s reply.
‘It’s beauty that hides the answer from you.
Attached to a force that stirred in the clouds
Before the pulse of life had yet begun,
We were bound to a maker who was to proud
And vain, so what on earth could we have done? ’