Tony M Walton
Biography of Tony M Walton
Tony Walton's work is noted for its stylistic and technical achievements. It's engagement and tackling of moral and social issues and its variety of form, tone and content. The central themes of his poetry are love, morals, the relationship between unique human beings and the anonymous, impersonal world of nature. Tony Walton lives in the Cayman Islands and has been published in various magazines.
Tony M Walton Poems
Oh, my friend you have got to create it invent it
The Girl In A Yellow Dress
I saw you yesterday in a yellow summer dress, the color of high dosage diazepam, through the rain streaked window of a familiar bar, as I walked by, somewhere in the city,
11 Months In London
As I turn left off Oxford Street cloaked in a low sky and shuffling along with the other furrowed brows
On Thursday Morning 3: 55 Am
There lies One whose Name is writ in Water' john Keats (1795-1821) Lying here imagining what would happen if
Not Thinking Too Much
I walked my dog this morning and as we stepped into the newness of the day, a large Boxer ran over and bit him,
Tuesday 1: 37 Am
She had moved to her bedroom almost a year ago, existence: it deepens like a coastal shelf
Coloring Inside The Lines
“The most courageous act is still to think for yourself. Aloud.” Coco Chanel Childrens's crayons, a clustered
Punching The Moon
There are delving days when the ink blue sea whispers to me in a sexy voice, 'Come over here boy, and give me a kiss.' 'Hell no girl! I am not easy like that! Anyway, I have
To Hell With Edgar Allen Poe, Sylvia Pla...
Awaking from a delicious dream I turn in my bed to face the sea window and peer through quiet eyes towards a fresh orange sunrise that looks painted in oils, as it emerges from the inky depths
The Dark Matter Of Graduation
Dark Matter – noun – Nonluminous material in the universe not seen by the naked eye. Graduation day –
Today's Agenda: Sieze The Day
I want that thing that Lord Bryon panted after, coiled around my ribs and pumping, blood rushing to that warm glow of oblivion.
Drinking Red Wine On The Beach This Nigh...
I swill from the bottle of wine and with quiet eyes watch the waves soften before me. It is that serene hour, after the stars have
The Real Culprit In The Matter Of Love
Walking alone one windless June night fear looked at the clock and asked, 'So, was there love or no love, and what or who is to blame? '
A Couple On A Sunday Drive
There are no disagreements as we drive along, encased safely in the car, a road split by the center line. Practiced vowels, consonants and syllables
11 Months In London
As I turn left off Oxford Street
cloaked in a low sky and shuffling
along with the other furrowed brows
I search for the accents of my youth
“Tomato” or “Tomahto” or “Tomata.”
“Aunt” or “Ant” or “Auntie”
Punching my cold fists into a