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free form - first draft ...
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I chuck my feelings here and there like nectar snuck into a trough where horses come to pluck a pear and kill their thirst. They try their luck and, lapping, wonder how they’ve struck some untapped gold, then buck and whinny and, finished, duck away, swift-heeled, and tuck in at some other field. From “Disoccidented” by Alfie Shoyger: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Disoccidented-Alfie-Shoyger/dp/1999922859 ...
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Let’s run with the moon! Watch the sunlight on her face, See the reflection of her smile. You appear with a shimmer and gleam like pearly white teeth, We delight when your light bends and causes bows! Running and hiding beyond the clouds. Weaving, dancing, throwing shadows as you move. Using your power to rock the waves, Pushing the water to and fro! Forcing the tides to come and go Occasionally eclipsed by the sun, You ...
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Written on a lonesome evening ...
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Gathering around the Sally's. Refusing as they to bend. Voices raised aloft. Not political that's just folly. Green forever and shown with pride. Fighting with Jack our voices never slain, Men, boys so far, so far from insane. Ghosts write to avoid persecution! Certainly not for sanity! Sacrilegious perhaps... Sacrificed to save many! Martyrs were minted, Rare not plenty, no wind or wild wave will bring you home... Specials such as you God made few ...
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Lover I was looking at the white flower swinging in your hair like the silver star floating in the night sky ex I was looking at the white flower hanging in your hair like a fish out of water ...
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We only have to do two things. For birth and death we don't decide! A matter of science, a matter of fact. In between there lies our trap.  ...
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Personality is owned by both halves Like brothers, but one person. Do I listen to him? Do I reason with him? Do think like him? Do I behave like him, no! If we look in the mirror do we see him? Do we feel him, not always. But he is there if I need him. He feels my anger. He feels my anxiety. He shares my burden. He shares my pain. We merge like two ...
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thanks for giving me your hand nothing can touch me now ...
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The grit of the city alighting in eyeballs, confounding the warden, the basher of Bibles, the sergeant who mounts like a svelte caballero, each one of them locked in the pose of the scarecrow, he watches the moment of gritty-eyed stasis from up in a scimitarred, stuffed-wolfed oasis. The window frame tickles his nostrils, it’s wizened and rasps like a wasp is behind it, imprisoned. Light bulbs have blown. A rattling valve beckons to him, ...
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A rare sally into free verse. ====================================================   Lounging on the back seat of the Humber Flyer, day-dreaming, watching, and hoping for inspiration to spring me free of lethargy – where will it come from?   Maybe a leaper off the bridge casting their fate into crocodile water - that would be something worth recording.   A gambler risking all and bound to lose – diving headlong to wet Vegas – staking all he is ...
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cuncta fluunt ...
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Like rainbows, life is too short for conflicts, disagreements disharmony; hurdles heinous huddles, false judgments,  that do not help us grow. Like snowfall, life is too warm for cold war, feuds, battles bloodshed, hatred, utter meaninglessness  anger that makes us low. Like dewdrops, life is light the halo that shines behind is too full with healing glow to sulk in the disease of darkness, that disallows us to let the germs go. Like raindrops, life ...
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I deserted my window, Where I used to sit, Now and then a little bit, I forsook my only screen, Where I could see the world, And couldn’t be seen, Till  the snow prevailed, Everything was solid cold, Frost and despair began to wade Across the snow in the meadow, A boy worked his way With little flesh on his bones, More snow on the scattered stones, An old woman followed the jay, Half bent ...
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Clitoris-flicking in the school dorm and plumpies four cups over the norm bore me. I’d rather, for sure, sit and write in an obscure Welsh poetic form. From “Disoccidented” by Alfie Shoyger: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Disoccidented-Alfie-Shoyger/dp/1999922859 ...
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When I go for my walks, long ones, it feels I am going to the mountains to meet the magician who marries all. But today, as I was coming back I heard a cracking sound, in silence, I sensed doors were opening with my heartbeat doors, doors, doors for years shut, closed now opening like those flowers that bloom in those gardens in most unnoticed bushes. How could I’ve imagined this I’m not that much ...
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When the gang vermin, thrashing hard, had left me fit for the scrap-yard and the guard outside Ward Three rebuked my swearword-peppered thrum of “Let’s just shoot the thick chav scum”, no warm arms comforted me. Empty-futured and stood in line, no choice but stack a shelf or sign, no benign help from the tree of justice that states nothing harms my kind, we’re all Sirs and Madames, no warm arms comforted me. At fifty-nine ...
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I may not be competent, I may not be compliant, but the voice that's bleeding inside may not coagulate. Buddha and Jesus chained in words; good, kind, pious positive letters emotive expressions chosen Ps and Qs conscious hints and clues chanted, written in unending volumes revered, measured, relived, treasured,  for years and years; inside the holy premise the outstanding guys worshiped as the supreme teachers remembered without fail in every celebrations. But their teachings? For ...
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Growing up in the Chicago area, during Michael Jordan’s career, made me a huge basketball fan. Recently, I’ve been pretty excited because the NBA playoffs kicked off. One of this season’s captivating storylines is the Philadelphia 76ers return to the playoffs. From 2013 to 2017 they were arguably the worst team in the league. During one stretch they lost a record 28 games in a row.  During their period of losing, the general manager and ...
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