Home
ABOUT US
Recent Posts
- Grasping The Stillness
- Warmth
- Alarm Call
- Conker Season
- The Power Of Friendship
- Farewell Brian Wilson (The Beach Boys)
- Togetherness
- A Freedom Cry.
- The Stolen Word
- Is it ?
Recent Comments
- Pitch Perfect on
- Pitch Perfect on
- Making A Difference on
- Loose Ends. on
- Harriet’s poem live on LDOK.net on
Categories
- Animals (75)
- Family Life (284)
- Friendship and Trust (129)
- General information (3)
- Hope and Encouragement (174)
- Irony / Inevitability (140)
- Justice / Revenge (30)
- Laughter & Tears (32)
- Life/Living (197)
- Music (329)
- Nature (3)
- Nonsensical Madness (186)
- Obituary / Memorial (62)
- Radio (133)
- Reviews (7)
- Romance (220)
- Sport (145)
- Sunday Poems (15)
POEM ARCHIVE
ONLINE SERVICES
BOOKS
Contact Us
Useful Links
October 24, 2012
Why would you hide behind closed curtains?
no-one wants to look at you
Only mushrooms thrive in darkness
Breathe some air and take in the view.
Why would you sit without a light shining?
now that dusk has turned to night.
You’ll have cockroaches come to visit
They think it’s their god given right.
Why would you lie under the canopy?
like you were in a silken tomb,
with your body as still as a corpse –
Bet you were loathe to come out of the womb?
I’m giving it to you straight
The first two were really great,
but the one after was even better,
and certainly well worth the wait.
The first venture away from his homeland
A chance to grow and exist
in the corporate world of opportunities.
In triumph, he punches his fist.
October 7, 2012
A hard nut to crack,
he came across as brisk and cold,
but beneath his organised exterior,
lay a harrowing story untold.
The cost of boastful carelessness
The price of a secret exposed
The consequential holy mess
that only bravado knows.
Believe in a fantasist at your peril
Be swayed into enticing false hope.
But be sure when it all goes tups up,
alone, you will have to cope.
October 2, 2012
At the forefront of ones memory
are times of sheer exhilaration and
times of harrowing pain.
The flotsum and jetsum in the middle,
like a sponge, soaks up the mundane.
October 1, 2012
Let nature be free to survive at will
No good can become of any mass kill
Who decides when there should be a cull?
Who’s hardened heart, can the trigger pull?
September 29, 2012
If birth came with a guarantee
that one would live to be ninety three.
What extra joy there’d be in store,
to beat the odds, and reach ninety four.
Today is the tomorrow one wastes
yearning for yesterday.