Best Hang About Poems

As last surviving acorn,
I hang about all day.
My skin is smooth and swarthy
Beneath a chic beret.
Horse chestnuts call me puny
But I don’t really care
For Mother shared a secret
Of which they’re unaware.
She said ‘Son just be patient
And hold your head up high
For one day you’ll have...

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Once upon an ancient time, 
in long gone languid days, 
when distant misted myths bechanced
in lovely rhym'ed ways, 
when time was so much freer, 
less allotted to the minute, 
‘twas then the mighty Big Mac got the gherkin in it. 


The night was one made...

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Her heart has just said that
It has found the one
That it wants to settle with.
So in anticipation of the day
She will have to hang about
In a life that she would
To a certain extent do without.

For the existence that she previously knew
And dipped her toes into...

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JUDY…
Judy was a German Shepherd from my newborn days
I’ve seen some pictures, black and white; she had a friendly gaze
I wish I could remember her as I sit here and write
Alas I just have photographs, but somehow, that’s alright

LUCKY…
Now Lucky, I remember well, from when...

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Lullaby IV

I wish, one time, to ride
across the years to you
upon the back of the coal black mare
whose hooves are indigo hue

once there I’ll hang about your neck
hold you fast to me;
make you swear on our true love
you’ll ne’er return to the sea....

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Once Upon a Time Everything was Perfect in Eden, NSW, Australia

This is a story about why snakes are reluctant to leave whenever you see them. 
Why they hang about, instead of scurrying off.
A reluctant snake wishes to stay, and repent for unfulfilled temptations. 
This fairy...

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The Death of my Town 
(for Bradford, West Yorkshire, England)

At first I was self-righteous and held the moral high ground
On approaching the imminent death of my town
Some days I would observe and shake my head
And say loudly “You know, I think my town might be...

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This is a true story- no names have been changed to protect the idiot........

Nb- * - a car bonnet is a hood in the United states.
      ** - censored.

On my way back from the pub
(since real ale is my passion)
slowly...

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Quizmasters often test mentalities, 

by asking folks to name pluralities, 

of things of many different sorts.

Like, soldiers might be called 'cohorts'.

There are 'flights' of geese and jets and stairs,
 
my socks are sometimes found in 'pairs'.

A young girl's curls could hang in 'bangs',
 
and crooks...

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The Debate

as i sit upon my porch 
the red orange sun dying like a torch 
the strangest conversation i overheard 
a spider and a mantis speaking words 

says spider to mantis

“how do you sit about all day,
without a place to stay?
is that really how you...

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Strands of dried leaves that
hang about your neck,
they dance with each motion,
their bodies rustle in wonder.
Did you notice the stripes
on the bathroom walls?
Orange, cream,
rotten green,
shivering in the electric air.
My hands find the ground,
hard and cold,
they count each tile.

Three-hundred-thirty-five.

The interwoven lines that the tiles create
form the...

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More than a man, the south made.
Black and white, south one started, 
great oaks refused no man a child
to hang about it, call dark christmas.
Hallow was a name, old now hollow.
Stigma inside wears grey cotton
memories, alive die uncompensated.
Here, electricity has that sick sweet  
smell...

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FIRE, FIRE
The house is burning round me,
There’s no time to hang about.
Just enough for me to get
A few essentials out.

First, up to the bathroom
To collect my medications.
To a lifelong hypochondriac,
They’re vital preparations.

Next, the photo albums; 
I just can’t let them burn.
My life recorded through a...

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Think of it this way 
All illnesses make our body sick 
Some can kill you others just make you just miserable for a while
All need healing

The same can be a state of sins
 Some sins can cause us to lose our eternal lives
Others just delay...

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Translation of Marcel Moreau's " A Paris " by T. Wignesan

IN PARIS

Paris bores me no end without you
My heart weighted down with melancholia
The spleen given over to asthenia
Empties its own sense of loss on to me, too.

Sometimes I revisit this bistro
Over a coffee I remain...

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