job selection (Remove filter)
Keeper of The Heads
The smell is a fine one;
The death of a traitor
is always sweet
The death of a traitor
is always sweet
I feel the pulse of the cheers
echo through the city
when the mighty fall
or the wretched scum meet their end
echo through the city
when the mighty fall
or the wretched scum meet their end
Then they send the heads to me
Parboiled
Dipped in tar
Beautifully macabre
Parboiled
Dipped in tar
Beautifully macabre
And I get to work
Proudly plying my trade
For there's a colour to my craft
and a heritage I'm proud to continue
Proudly plying my trade
For there's a colour to my craft
and a heritage I'm proud to continue
Sunday 10th April 2016 8:33 am
Natural Selection
Natural Selection
Outbound
I look at them
they look at me
through glassy eyes
that never see
we’ve shared this carriage
many years
never sharing
hopes or fears
I swiftly pass
the guarded gate
and check my watch
in case I’m late
despite producing
dog-eared ticket
the blank faced guardsman
doesn’t click it
I side ...
Friday 19th July 2013 7:34 pm
Recent Comments
Tom Doolan on Thursday - Take Me Away
44 minutes ago
Martin Elder on A tune appalling
2 hours ago
Martin Elder on Heads up. (New poem, hot off the pen!)
2 hours ago
Martin Elder on Thursday - Take Me Away
2 hours ago
Martin Elder on The King Hath His Eye on a Seventh Wyf
2 hours ago
Martin Elder on The worth of seeking bliss
2 hours ago
Martin Elder on Face Value
2 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Thursday - Take Me Away
3 hours ago
John Coopey on UPHILL MUTTON
3 hours ago
Greg Freeman on Face Value
4 hours ago