From a glass of Cote du Rhone,

Stemmed from your place of birth,

Or a framboise tart –

Patisserie delights.

The taste of salads

And hummus garlic that stains your breath

That I so dread to kiss -

I know you have to put up with my nicotine lips,

But it’s me that does all the moaning.

So easily pleased by life’s gentle moments,

When for me it isn’t enough to savour,

...

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Cackling cows, but the milk is sour.

Poison meat that we devour.

Broken hearts left to cower.

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In the game of love, the act that should be the last, is now the opening salvo. But, as a man… why am I complaining?

This one is a work in progress. A bit bitter after hearing a fellow poet dismiss men’s romantic verse as “cheesy”, I thought how the shaggers / fuckers call them what you will, win and the decent folk are cast aside in these common times…

Karl Marx said religion was the ...

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~~I was to write a poem, to tell you how I feel. But I feel rants are more raw, expressive and real. So here's a rant, just for you. My bubby pumpkin owl, my baby boo. It may rhyme from time to time, but the message of love will remain and you'll always be mine.

Savannah Sienna Rose. Such a name is so deep that it dwells within itself to decipher what it means. A name that is travels beyond two...

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When I watched up,
Up into the pitch-black sky,
I saw your name written amongst the stars.
For you, my love, are my guiding light
Leading me home into your arms,
Where I am protected from all hurt.
And when I looked around me,
I heard the wind blow through the leaves
and the wind whispered your name.
But, my love, although just a whisper in the wind,
I can feel you coursing through my ve...

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Trapped by foolish love I followed

every curve,    a funnel that poured into you

and took me with it.       Old enough

responsible enough

foolish enough for the luring.

As iron filings make sense of a magnet

you drew a pattern in my heart

a new arrangement         and I in my foolish love

chose your design           your being

your smell                        your taint

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Grief is costly and I was broke, 
Not you or him or any bloke,
Could have filled my pot of casting love,
He pulled my purse-strings from above.
That heavy weight of stress I threw,
I shrunk and stole myself from you.
That constant stream of words that played,
For them, a fortune I'd have paid!
I foraged deep for that sweet tune,
But woeful blues, they filled the room.
You wouldn't know t...

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I fail at sleeping

in a show of unconditional accusation, the reproachful slander of your hereafter,

amongst the placid hours,

I try to be the grand man, but I shake too much

unhinged by the overreach of my skeletal height

much to the delight of every unskilled whistler

tough love and rougher hate interprets the shuddering motions, as my left hand lingers

over a poss...

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Her eyes were stern

For each wrong I did

Whenever my wants hiked

Her wish-list got buried

Eternal place was her womb

Out I am in a far-off land

That lap is a "Silhouette"

Abided by values; he taught

What life ought to earn

Those spectacles scolded me

For "habits" had to learn

Desk is clean; though silent

Newspaper is lying unfolded

Chair re...

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