Best Ilk Poems

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CHASING FOOTPRINTS

Some feet are bigger than others
none bigger than those
left by your brothers -
that you tried to fill.

The foot that Dad
would put “right up ‘ur...

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Clans, Ilks and Tartans

Woven into threads of red and black,
Girded by grids of white,
Distant plaintive bagpipe memories
Of sunset over Kilmaurs –
A crest that bears a...

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Building castles in the air,
Gold and diamonds everywhere;
You were the brightest stars in your own skies

In empty space you built your dreams
Behind  computer screens
You...

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Brumby.

A strong gale cuts its path across the snow laden mountain tops,
light and tough the timor, thoroughbred mix, leads his mob at a trot.
A day...

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I bridged the chasm and entered ambiguous halls
Climbed over barbed fences inside my mind's walls
To glimpse the core of how men and women relate
Among flowering...

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Mute
but immutable.
Unmoving, unmoveable;
timeless, yet tireless.
Solitary stalwart sentinel
surveils undulating horizon.

Aberrant, achromatic clouds
pock-mark the skies, as distant
rumblings herald his adversary's
latest gambit in their age-old conflict.

The wrath of...

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Ears listening to only their lies,

And their lies speaking only to them,

Trying to be quiet yet still screaming,

Drowning in rants never heard,

So concise but not...

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Boxes and boxes of lovely soft creams,
ready to be loaded on our ship of dreams.
Chocolate cream pies, and chocolate E'clairs,
lemon filled donuts, and Jelly cream...

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If only I could respond to this woman who shrieks
Who knows so little about whereof she speaks,
Belittles comments she so desperately seeks
Her social and political...

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VOICE:  Ahmad Razvi

I write a few words
every day
A few words
Sometimes
not even words
Just to remember
what it feels like
Elk ilk
This is a pen
This is paper
These are...

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for F. A.

You, in going a little way from yourself
Have gone a long way from my gullible ilk.
« I’m trying hard not to like you,...

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'Twas long before a Shakespeare play was quilled,
the fifth and sixth of deadly sins would prey
then dance with pride as innocence was spilled
upon the pyre...

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In what haunt hath hope,
he who in solitude,
weeps into soiled palms;
calloused by that labor
desolate of redemption.
Leathered and wrinkled
by ever so recent a passage 
of too...

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Looming ...

The possibility of crisis
          Life-as-you-now-know-it-ending crisis
         ...

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