to quote...
If you're a plastic surgeon
and you have got
looks, good looks
you'll have sex with one
or two
Or so
of your patients.
A collection of poems and short stories, from a long time ago and from today. Some are light hearted, others are more serious, some are simply extracts from larger pieces of ficiton I am writing.
Monday, 19 December 2016
23/10Train Trash Talk
22/10 Food
I gifted you my heart
And you gave me vegan bolognese
I love you with all my soul
And thank the heavens
For good Italian food
And you gave me vegan bolognese
I love you with all my soul
And thank the heavens
For good Italian food
20/10 Soon To End
Soon I will be going back
Into a life of normality
Soon I will be heading back home
And things will be the same
Same flat, same street
Same friends, same world
Except one thing
Except one name
Except one man
Who I love for eternity
Into a life of normality
Soon I will be heading back home
And things will be the same
Same flat, same street
Same friends, same world
Except one thing
Except one name
Except one man
Who I love for eternity
19/10 Pigeon
My dear little grey thing
With your bobbing head
Thank you for following me
All my journey through
As I thought of romance
You were here with
And as I rode on the train
Your image was beside
YOu flew to meet me
At least that I imagine
And now I sit here dreaming
And you are here too
You came from the Michael Square
I came from Glasgow
And now here we are companions
Friends in Verona, little pigeon
And I will never forget
With your bobbing head
Thank you for following me
All my journey through
As I thought of romance
You were here with
And as I rode on the train
Your image was beside
YOu flew to meet me
At least that I imagine
And now I sit here dreaming
And you are here too
You came from the Michael Square
I came from Glasgow
And now here we are companions
Friends in Verona, little pigeon
And I will never forget
18/10 Balcony
I see you
Up there, hair waving in the moonlight
I see you
Fair maiden
In my mind's eye.
I stand here, looking down
Over the crowds as my photo is taken
And imagine
Him climbing up this vine
The necklace falling to his hand
You blowing kisses into the air
Saying, "Farewell my love.
My love, farewell.
I will see you tomorrow to be wed."
Up there, hair waving in the moonlight
I see you
Fair maiden
In my mind's eye.
I stand here, looking down
Over the crowds as my photo is taken
And imagine
Him climbing up this vine
The necklace falling to his hand
You blowing kisses into the air
Saying, "Farewell my love.
My love, farewell.
I will see you tomorrow to be wed."
17/10 Tomb
I want to be here
When I die
I want people to imagine
My tomb like this
Even though it may not be hers
It is clear
She is beloved
She lives on in literature history
She is created by paper
And she is alive by that at least
When I die
I want people to imagine
My tomb like this
Even though it may not be hers
It is clear
She is beloved
She lives on in literature history
She is created by paper
And she is alive by that at least
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