poet (Remove filter)
McGarrigle’s Glasgow
One of the scribes was taken tonight.
One of the seers, one of our own.
One of the prophets will write no more lines
in radical rhymes
nor preach them to people like us.
He struggled against his emptying days,
though yearned for contentment and calm.
Thought he had lost that angry young man,
but McGarrigle – words never die;
they’re beyond a stillness of pulse.
...Tuesday 3rd December 2013 4:26 pm
I entered the cage instead of a wild beast,...
I entered the cage instead of a wild beast,
Burned out my term and moniker by nail in barrack,
lived by the sea side and played the roulette,
had dinner, hell knows with whom, in a frock coat.
From the height of a glacier I watched half of the world,
three times was drowning and twice was ripped.
Left the country in which I was nursed.
A city can be made out of...
Friday 24th May 2013 8:19 pm
Sofia's Masterpiece Story
Tuesday 5th March 2013 11:26 am
Choices
Saturday 12th January 2013 1:54 pm
Soft Summer Reverie
Tuesday 8th January 2013 12:42 am
Recent Comments
Nigel Astell on Besties reunion - chapter 1
1 minute ago
Nigel Astell on My paradise, my room
10 minutes ago
Nigel Astell on The enchanted forest
12 minutes ago
keith jeffries on Lovely
2 hours ago
keith jeffries on A street full
2 hours ago
Martin Elder on Day 11
3 hours ago
Martin Elder on The Usual
3 hours ago
Martin Elder on Did I hit my head or have a fall?
3 hours ago
Martin Elder on The Sky is Crying With Heavy Rain
3 hours ago
Martin Elder on Workout
3 hours ago