A Poppy In Winter

November mists come down in shrouds of grey

and folk remember, with their poppies red,

the loss of sixteen million war dead

and how the guns fell silent on this day.

So who are you to deem to have a say

on whether I should honour those who bled

by crimson colours? – or perhaps, instead,

in remembrance there is another way.

For I would guess that mo...

Read and leave comments (5)

Daily Howl

A quiet boy -

he painted rainbows,

got lost in the words

of ancient poets,

spoke with respect,

offered up his seat

and his place in the world

to the unfortunates.

He smiled,

he laughed,

he spoke in words

of love and peace

with passion

and humility.

His voice

a pacifier.

Sometimes,

when the world was cruel,

he cried

Read and leave comments (1)

Eostre

Not the cross or the thorns

or the blood or the nails,

not the spear or the whip

or the rumble of stones

from the mouth of a tomb.

Not the hatred and bigotry,

the small minded hypocrisy

of this clan or that clan

whose father is biggest

or most feared or cherished.

Not the myth and the fable

espoused by blind acolytes

heaven bent on venge...

Read and leave comments (3)

Catechism

I will not be defined by ancient Gods,

or the archaic teachings in their books.

I will tread warily around their words

and avoid the hidden traps and snaring hooks.

I will not stand behind a coloured flag

and spout my blunt imperialistic views

or drape it on a coffin when I die

or burn it on the early evening news.

I will not make a choice that’s...

Read and leave comments (4)

Armistice (Gods Of War)

The ink upon this document
dries twice as fast as blood
that seeps into this continent
and mixes with the mud.
The war to end all wars they say,
though many have their doubts
that a piece of paper, signed today,
will quell the zealots shouts.

So they dance beneath the spires
of Britannia’s grieving towns
and let the mourning of sad shires
taint her flimsy ta...

Read and leave comments (4)