Category: Poetry
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All Poets are Better than Me (2)
Every word I write is now broken, Vowels and consonants combined dead now spoken, Because every thought first belonged to another’s mind. I’ll stop now. As everything I write could only be plagiarised. Because surely these words were another’s Their letters previously penned before by others Meaning my vowels and consonants are pre-written By the…
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Beyond the shore
I will walk out to you beyond the swirling shore Shouldering aside the breaching waves Overturning me and washing me back once more.
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The Sin of Eve
Welcome to trial by ordeal with a modern twist Where any trivial detail once missed Ensures that no one will ever believe Her. For she is on trial for the sin of Eve. Her’s is the devilled apple meant to deceive man into sin all her fault now as he sees himself exacting revenge unbidden…
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Session Whisperer
“So how have you been since our last time?” “Doing a bit better,” I say, eyes bright with a wan smile. I’d rather not show the glimpse of the chasm that yesterday I thought in fear that I would fall over well almost nearly. In penance therefore I list out my mini troubles all sonorous…
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A Gentle Remonstration
Afterwards you will see eventually, How you always took the initiative, Always applied the soothing palliative, Always first with the preemptive apology.
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You Lied to Me Love
You lied to me more than once love. You spilled me (when I wasn’t looking) from above, You told me that all and everything, Would centre upon me while unthinking Others would circle round me spinning Me all that I ever wanted without wishing. You lied to me more than once love. You killed me…
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Poetry is Dead? Again?
Poetry is dead. So? Yet another has spokenAn epitaph, leaving us to pick up the brokenHearts and forgotten thoughts of the living dead,Who scrabble for words after the scar has bled.As for me poetry haunts me almost constantly,Messaged words then phrases that incessantly,Resist my head persist in my heart as if beyondMe as if other…
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How the World Will (not) End
Woke at midnight to chopper beats Flying above, about, around, Backgrounded by rain in sheets, a wildly churning roaring sound. Outside now we saw the flow, The river has become the street. All humanity in retreat. Shelter in place—for all we know. Close the door, we’re safe for now; TV just home-shopping shows. And while…
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forever strong
The next time again I was proven wrong I didn’t flinch or retaliate I wouldn’t bend I’d determined myself this time I’d be strong So began the long hope without any end. Those times I was always pushed away I crouched down, and folded a fended arm Ask her why, again she had nothing to…
Andrew James Whalan 