My Poems

I knew it, I told you so, and now it’s happened.  What’s the use in prophesying,  when you can’t stop it?  All I can say is that I loved you, when you were young. I thought that I wouldn’t  love you when you would  grow old. Now you are and  i love you still, I shock myself in saying it, I didn’t prophecy it,  but it happened. You stayed my love. The old feeling’s still there, surprise, surprise, still there. Surprise surprise.

 Is death a contagious disease, passed on from one mutt to another? Or is the writing of poems about it, the infection? Look, O my God he’s broken out in death. Don’t go near him. Wear a mask. Protect yourself  or else you too will start writing about it, and there’s no known cure. Not even an aspirin  will take away the malady. It’s not death that parts us,  it’s writing about it, which is sweet sorrow.

How did I get into this state? Was it a bug  that came like a thug? Cosh in hand, black mask on his face. I’ll pull it down and reveal  the dirty swine, crinkly hair and all. Acamol said Etti, will cook his goose. and save me from the noose. I’m alright,  just sick like a dog, Puffy eyes blocked nose and worst of all, I won’t be winning  tomorrow’s marathon, but I’ll never get better. The state I’m in is here to stay.

You came and stayed a seed in fertile earth. gestated seventy years and suddenly bloomed  a curvaceous schoolgirl  thigh a pretty blushing  cheek s heaving chest. Pitch black hair falling  on a sky blue tunic collar. An isle separated your desk from mine,  my eye roved over. Now nothing separates us, because you’re in my mind, A lovely memory to carry with me to paradise 

The rich the poor  The ailing and rejoicing  All need to eat My table is bare Without sufferers The food chokes  In my throat  Only embracing  A sufferer can save me A sufferer is my saviour  Without a sufferer  At my table  Pesach isn’t Pesach  It’s a feast of pigs 

She finally looked. At last she made the effort. How beautiful it looks. I know I lied. I saw I was there The climb was high It looked down on me I ate breakfast