It was a steep climb I stumbled on the steps Scraped a knee Hurt my back And the old bruises Surfaced Aches and pains Were my sure Companions Yet The lingering breeze From the top of the mountain Urged me onwards Where a still pool Bestowed cool droplets On weary travelers
I am a poet, a gifted being My rage fills word docs Like flies swarm a milk box And I like to wallow In my misery with a cocktail in hand Looking down at the lesser beings From the vantage point That is rightly mine
Lighting bugs flickered from leaf to leaf. The dying fire crackled sending forth jaded wisps of smoke. Monk lay on his old blanket that smelt of egg sandwiches, staring into the cobalt blue sky, trying to catch stars with his mind’s eye. Unclear thoughts kept distracting him. He shook his head from side to side, to clear his brain and ...
The pirate asked the captain Would you stop shams? To survive on clams Priced from a rock Set in the vast sea? Would you embark On a shipping spree To thwart guilt by saving a shark? Would you forgo a drink Of the most expensive wine To dance with gods On a woodland brink On a serene night The Captain cocked his unibrow!
On a clear day when the fickle mist lifts, you may catch a glimpse of the true face of the mountain. There will be countless green trees, heavy, moss covered rocks, tiny creatures and mounds and mounds of dirt. And if you are absolutely noiseless, you may hear even the gentlest rustle created by wind and manifested through things substantial ...
The tea-cup rattled in its saucer, spilling a splash of dirty brown liquid on to pristine pink and white. “That is undrinkable. You know how I hate a mess” screeched Jay. His wife’s expression remained passive as she removed the offending cup from the window sill and took mincing steps towards her kitchen. (She heard the familiar low growl coming ...
Life is a strange abiding A place to live, grow and thrive (And aspire for dispassion) A glimpse of victory A glimpse of failure A drought wrought in a dust cloud Followed by a rain soaked breeze
It was a dark evening and rain had ceased just a moment ago, when a grey star disturbed a little kitten’s contemplation of the road in front of her. The grey star fell on the little kitten’s beige back. Annoyed at being rudely disturbed, she shook herself and meowed. The star fell onto the concrete slab beneath the kitten’s stack ...
My friend the misogynist Holds meetings in his head Bashing the women in red For being feminists Heeee should go soak up the sun Stop telling everyone to be Assholes…. I wrote these lines following a chaotic meeting inside my own head. The words are passive aggressive and offensive, I admit. I am no better than ‘my friend the misogynist’ ...
