Poetry Blogs (tory)
The Devil Don’t Own Me
He may have saluted the corrupted cross
In Hitler’s Germany,
or whispered to Judas Iscariot,
hanging from a tree,
he could have pulled the trigger finger
back in nineteen sixty three,
he may own the soul of rock and roll
but the Devil don’t own me.
He may pollute the air we breath
or the raging, deep blue, sea.
He may breath on pola...
Monday 11th September 2017 1:28 pm
Warfare rages, blood pressure races, worry lines etch into our faces
Predictability always soothes
So we turn our glaikit eyes to you
A saviour decked in red, white and blue
Be our hero, Mr Twee.
Crashing chords in minor keys
Please god - spare us all of these!
For our stilted minds cannot compute
Unfamiliar jarring tunes
Blandness is the ...
Friday 4th April 2014 7:36 pm
all selling, or telling
forgot about the gelling together
of aught that matters
till we tipped past the point
of diminished returns to ruminate
instead on what a rich man earns
and caponised the germ
of all that once promised
in a swinish lust to fill our own pockets
gave a child faced strangler
the keys to the bank
to share the gold...
Saturday 9th March 2013 8:33 pm