passing time (Remove filter)
One Hundred Days In Plague Town
One Hundred Days In Plague Town
I met a man in Plague Town
With bird’s beak and a long black coat
He carried a cane in his left hand
He spoke to me and I quote:
‘Don’t travel far from your fire son
Go runaway and hide
For Fear stalks the streets of Plague Town
Some are ill and others have died’
So I went back home as he told me
And I sat and counted the days
...Thursday 9th July 2020 5:06 pm
Hand Count
Hand Count
Sixty times a minute
I have travelled round this face
Three thousand six hundred times an hour
I have faithfully kept pace
Eighty six thousand four hundred times a day
I’ve ticked along
Six hundred and four thousand eight hundred times a week
Always right and never wrong
Eighteen million one hundred and forty four thousands times an average month
Relen...
Tuesday 30th June 2020 2:08 pm
Recent Comments
Nigel Astell on June 2025 Collage Poem: You Watched the Trains Come, You Watched the Trains Go
4 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Poetry Is Pain
9 hours ago
David RL Moore on Too late too late
1 day ago
Rolph David on Love The Light, Embrace The Rain
1 day ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The roads taken
1 day ago
Red Brick Keshner on still, the Earth breathes
1 day ago
Marnanel Thurman on The roads taken
1 day ago
Red Brick Keshner on where shadows do not drown
1 day ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on The Empty Streets of Ego’s March
1 day ago
Larisa Rzhepishevska on The Policemen Arrest The Men.
1 day ago