Cappuccino smile
Ah, the aromas of that conversation, The brimming, cappuccino smile Swirled in chocolate rich and cinnamoned, The gentle coffee curlicues interlaced In arabesques of creamy foam, redolent Upon your lips, lilted in the cup
Joys of the chase
Colours fade into nameless shades of grey And where the tonsure of bas-relief crudely Stands effete, semantic symbolism degrades Into meaninglessness. The artefacts of an old Existence deny you humanity but you don’t Recognise
If democratically elected
What is it with Hezbollah Representing barely 15% Of the Lebanese Parliament Living outside the government Immersed in an undeclared war, Sympathetic to Hamas and Al Fatah for The return of Palestinian refugees, Whose
Piscine kind of kinship
To glibly say that Joe was sort of odd Quite missed the point. Peculiar in many Ways and kind of weird, I would have Been afraid of him were I a child (if I
It is a secular world
Our Indonesian friends again exhibit strains of gross hypocrisy, It’s a virus that abounds in the islands of a thousand tongues, Is skipping hosts, mutating at a scary pace, infectious to the Very worst
Love stopped before it began
It would have been love, I am sure of it, And I held her hand torn between concern and pride Whilst she cried and cried on her first day at school. We walked to
My enemy my friend
My enemy my friend Whom I know without compromise, When I listened to the Deconstructions avowed of you As your brand of pernicious Lies I was ashamed. I know where you situate In matters
Time to play
It is a pristine page, clean on the blue screen Where I compose, I don’t expect it to stay that way As words glow from blunt, abused fingers, as insistent Sounds in my head
For you secular needs
Somebody please explain, can you help Me understand; I’ve watched the weather Radar creep its colours on the screen And watched out of the window for the band Of welcome rain. One tells me
Bretton Wood
It happened by Bretton Wood (although that Wasn’t it’s real name) and I recall a clear, grey dawn And the tall sky fallow with torpid clouds; We went on before to watch how they
Share of obligation
If the debate rages in the pages of the news today Then I’m confused, I’ve searched and found no evidence. Perhaps the anger of some residents about a Catholic school That’s due to close
On The Death of a Father
I was schooled well before he died, able at least To feel what others felt when their fathers Were deceased. Able but not willing And not without despair to glimpse the man Who’d hide
Steve's tears
My beloved called to me to come and see Steve’s Tears, he was crying on TV; Steve Irwin, The Crocodile Man, And they weren’t crocodile tears. Harriet had died, Steve could not contain his
A final journeying
Steve is gone, I hardly can believe The man wont cry again, I cannot credit that His energy wont bloom And burst the candid pane That kept us so aware of just How much
Free from intrusion
You awaken this time with a welcoming smile, an experience Sublime, not a dream – the boner from Hell Has presented itself like a prospect of fate, and reasoned Debate be damned, you’ll argue