A bow to The Poetry King,
who thinks he doesn't
mean a thing
in the grand scheme.
Wears his heart
on stained sleeve,
makes paupers feel
Waxes poetic about
life, love, and history
that would otherwise remain
More than just a dream,
The Poetry King
in you and me.
Saturday 5th September 2020 2:21 am
It was the smoggy late Fifties and I was a kid
On black and white TV home-made jive lacked soul
Then a second-hand gramophone turned up
Forty fives from the States brought rock and roll
Rock Street was cobbled and motors were few
Novel chords beat the hell out of the fog
Sung by Elvis,Little Richard, Brenda Lee
Rhythm and blues licked alive by a Hound Dog
Tuesday 21st April 2020 11:45 am
Beatle mop tops when all you need is love
Rolling Stones not satisfied would ever fade away
In fields of wild strawberry forever hallelujahs ring
In the midnight hour how sweet it was to be loved
Oh yes indeed how sweet it was
LSD purple hearts two a Penny lane
Flower power we made love not war
When fat Elvis was the king
Fashion passion Ray
Really got me ...
Tuesday 26th January 2016 2:32 pm
I have seen Elvis in my mirror.
Not the blue-black-haired sexy Elvis:
piercing eyes, taut skin reflecting the neon of a setting southern sun,
but the other one.
Fat, pig jowled.
cheeks like slabs of something dead.
Eyes like fish,
surprised to be set in something quite so bloated.
Left in a jar too long.
My lips hang loose
as if too tired to ...
Saturday 27th February 2010 10:25 am