Poetry: Red Rag To A Bull

Poetry: Red Rag To A Bull: To all their misdemeanours To all their folly and lies Thy theft, thy fraud, thy treachery So spoken so despised Like cattle with nought...

Poetry: ...

Poetry: ...: " C..."

Poetry: Poetry: Tater Ash Woman

Poetry: Poetry: Tater Ash Woman: "Poetry: Tater Ash Woman : 'To the job list enduring nether to demise Warming my heart copious in labour In worn out fleece to dirty old jean..."

Poetry: Poetry: Red Rag To A Bull

Poetry: Poetry: Red Rag To A Bull: "Poetry: Red Rag To A Bull : 'To all their misdemeanours To all their folly and liesThy theft, thy fraud, thy treachery So spoken so despised..."

Poetry: Gamblers love In Idle turnIdle turn those tri...

Poetry: Gamblers love

In Idle turnIdle turn those tri...: "Gamblers love In Idle turn Idle turn those tricky aces, Lost by fractions Spinning coins those slots those faces I’m still losing, ..."

I Was I Am

I was a born again Christian

A worn out thespian

A luvvy dovey a picture of your health

My thinking a wood axe

Head cold to your Imperial state

Measurer of your honey

Story retold a thousand closing gates

They said they’d break the mould

Irony a pivotal swing

Without no axis without no steel

Incognito inventors of the wheel

A fleeting glance you were my last dance

Held you in my trance

Still we’d swing motionless

To stiff suits to shoes rubbed the skin the backs of all those heels

Where I chanced a glance the purchase of your glare

Laid low sweltering in my dreams

Cursing at the fear of borrowed dignity

Killing time

Laughing into the face of those sundials

Calling all my mischief to shine on no particular barricade

The blinking of an eye

The wealth of our decline

Where I forge my lukewarm smile

Motionless tears to fretless dreams

A broken down lecture

Still warm diet of tribal charm

The mothers of milk

Perpetual bliss

I was a born again thespian

A worn out Christian

A luvvey dovey a picture of your health

My thinking a wood axe

Head cold to a monarchic state

Measurer of your pot of gold

Like justice repackaged resold

To a thousand shut and closing gates