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Andrew James Whalan

Poet. Storyteller.


  • January 16, 2023

    You Lied to Me Love

    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…

  • January 13, 2023

    Revenge is not my Style

    “I am the former dictator of Nigeria…” Really? No one ever titles themselves a dictator. President for Life, maybe Generalissimo, even Dear Leader. Never dictator. Although last week’s email said former Nigerian prince. “And I need your most urgent help…” Always. “With my impending demise from terminal cancer…” How about heart disease or  even old…

  • January 11, 2023

    Spiders in Space

    Spiders in Space

    Part of my domestic duties as a father involved spacing spiders. Not Daddy-Long-Legs. In time I learned they were harmless (they were a deterrent to other spiders). Like Jupiter and most comets. So left them to orbit just as they pleased

  • January 10, 2023

    Poetry is Dead? Again?

    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…

  • January 9, 2023

    It’s all housework to me

    It’s all housework to me

    She gave me that look. As if to say, what are you doing? At that moment my hands were elbow deep in the kitchen sink. Washing up.

  • January 5, 2023

    Why would you ever…

    That is be paid and then played as a technical writer.Because the normal rules of project management and good manners simply do not apply as best addressed by the following three points… Magic Most people think we create documents by weaving gossamer out of nothing. We’re magicians. Which means many managers, stakeholder and subject matter…

  • December 30, 2022

    Out of Office

  • December 25, 2022

    Christmas is whose delight?

    Christmas is whose delight?

  • December 1, 2022

    How the World Will (not) End

    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…

  • November 22, 2022

    Catless

    Catless

    It’s been at least another fifty years, how many now, in truth, I’ve lost count. Nowadays each anniversary starts the same way. Someone gently shakes me awake. All becomes white. At their words, I nod in answer, although sometimes I shake my head just to be perverse. But it is all the same now. I…

  • November 21, 2022

    So? What’s Next?

    So? What’s Next?

    So? What’s next? As President Bartlet in the West Wing would say, and did.

  • November 16, 2022

    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…

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