Paul Moss aka Mossman

Biography

Writing and performing spoken word as #mossmanpoet. My work is inspired by nature and our condition in the world. Plus a humorous take on life relationships and getting old. Attending various open mic events and currently Zooming around the country doing Poetry Events. Find me at #mossmanpoet on Twitter, Instagram and and wordpress Blog

Kites are Up

Kites are Up Kites are up, but no paper and string. Not thrown up and diving to ground. Not just a stick stretched thing. Talons and beak speak raptor. Red tail forked, with huge spread wings soars on, Has no grounded captor. This is no performer, not earth tethered. No toy for the awe struck child. This is bird, red, full feathered. This is real. A free wind surfer, Only ground linked by the keen eyed vision of the searcher. Quartering the fields in a stall and dive. A dazzling display of breeze riding. Flying on long after the grounded Paper flyers have retreated home, for tea at five. Still up, gliding in sky now pale Still searching for that tasty morsel, To bring home to the nest in the vale. #mossmanpoet

Old Me! A spoken word piece.

Old? me! I grow old... I grow old, Or so I am constantly told. But I can't believe it, I haven't changed a bit. Not since I was seventeen When girls were all too shy, And didn't want to be seen out with me. I was cool and they were being hot elsewhere, With the boys who didn't care. I still have all my hair Still like music that's far out, but not quite ambient. I'm not quite so 'hep man' but still not square. I like a rhyme that's not so Ancient Mariner On wild oceans I sail, guided by my inner verse. Still on my personal Odyssey, Or so I told the nurse. Not yet given up on all my crazy notions. Still just able to, With help from all the potions. Still trying to die before I get old. Clinging on like moss on a rolling stone. Keeping on, keeping on. As long as I am not left alone. #mossmanpoet

The Last Straw

The Last Straw We have all been a sucker for a straw. Back from being kids With our knickerbocker glories And seaside fizz. Back then we were innocents And so were the straws All paper, throw away, Rotting to dust In a year and a day. All grown up now But still tempted by a straw in our cocktail mix and fast-food fizz. But; Now it’s plastic Now it’s toxic Now it’s the planet. A throw away That is with us forever and a day. From the tide line to fathoms deep Filling oceans and fish bellies Turning turtle to the bottom. So start taking it seriously, Start taking the drink straight from a glass. Turn down the straw, Say no and clean up Until we can all be suckers of paper again. #mossmanpoet

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.