Best Contains Poems

For a man of the cloth, our dear vicar
is not very partial to clothes
He is almost allergic to trousers
and y-fronts get right up his nose.

Ev’ry...

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~JSLambert does not (currently:) use, or encourage hallucinogenic drug use.

    Telepathic psilocybin prescription erasing elastic depression. Competition 
wanes, just when nocturnal emission...

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Life is but a fleeting whisper echoing through time,
never dying, always being- magnificent and sublime.
The body's a receptacle, a superficial shell,
but in it dwells the...

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In changing of the seasons that go on

unceasingly, from winter until fall;

in each day's path from day until the dawn -

I see so much, yet...

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Stood upright, between two roads,
On a thin metal rail,
A solitary, brown coloured bottle 
Of beer,          ...

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Some say you are lost
If you are not found
On their ground

Some think you are blind
If you do not find
What they find

I am an atheist who...

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Nostalgia is a longing for a person or a place that evokes happy memories.  Its an  
Oasis for the soul that harbors in...

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elements combine
elements are periodical
periodical books bore
periodical tables
tables made of symbols
tables without plates
plates are round
plates which hold pi
pi is a formula
pi is a tool
tool for a...

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Upon the twinkling of silent twilight,
tranquil thoughts set adrift, 
infatuated in elysian reflection.

The mind wanders, 
observing and listening - roaming;
avoiding confusing crossroads
leading into chimerical phantasms.

Overwhelmed...

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Futile is the sun to a heart in awe
And trivial is the moon's cosmic fame

All these voices are nothing but noises 
These Flowers are like...

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Some numpty bad mouthed my soup style
I’ve taken a break for a while
But I won't be deterred
From writing about turd
And subjects some others deem vile

I’m...

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Grief is not something we “get through”…
you “get through” a bad day
Grief is not something we “get over”,
“you ”get over” a cold”
Grief is not something...

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While your hands caress my body, is it her face that you see?
Is your thunder of release now brought on by HER memory?

Am I just...

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In A Darkened Attic Room

In attic room, one window tightly shut,
Dwells broken heart hidden from future pain.
Bare as a savage brute's dark, empty hut-
Condemned to...

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I formed the poet to be my clay pen
To dance on the pin tip of my understanding
I delight in words
All things came into existance through...

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