Cigarette Smoking Musician
An old man who looked somewhat young
But after he had a song sung
Held tightly to his right lung
And to a nearby chair clung …
An Old Man who now truly looked it:
Blotches on a weak skin poorly lit;
He had many times dared a twitter
And in his lungs they proved a hitter …
Then, why wouldn’t he
...
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Categories:
fritter, addiction, age, business, death,
Form: Rhyme
I Am Corruption
I am corruption
A citizen of all Nations
The UN calls me complex social, cultural and economic phenomenon
Nevertheless, I do not mind
Countries of the world detest me publicly
However, they romance me secretly
So I relocated to Africa
To become a citizen of many African countries
Where I thrive with impunity
I am embezzlement of public fund
I am the looting of public
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Categories:
fritter, africa, anger, corruption, evil,
Form: Free verse
Apple Fritter and a Single Rose
After 30 years together,
Carol tells me late one evening
in the manner of a quiet wife
that I have yet to write a poem
about her, something she
will never understand in light
of all those other poems
she says I wrote
about those other women
before she drove north.
And so I tell her once again
I wrote
...
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Categories:
fritter, love,
Form: Blank verse
Fritter and Waste
Fritter and waste
toiled in haste
My life was stuck on fast forward
Outa my mind...
Couldn't rewind
Even as my life raced toward
The cliff just there
Beyond the glare
Of life puddles, spilled not poured
Out of the noise
Echoed a voice
A distant life where serenity soared
"Cash it all in"
Again!...
...
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Categories:
fritter, journey,
Form: Rhyme
Spam Fritter Again
Being a non meat eater
I'll never eat a spam fritter again,
So why is the special offer on the counter so inviting?
Am I back at school again?
Queuing up for dinner
And hoping for something nice.
No menus then,
Probably just as well,
And the fritters are there
With baked beans and chips,
Treacle tart and custard for afters.
So I'm in the queue
Feeling
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Categories:
fritter, funny,
Form: Blank verse
Apple Fritter and a Single Rose
Apple Fritter and a Single Rose
After 30 years together,
Carol tells me late one evening
in the manner of a quiet wife
that I have yet to write a poem
about her, something she
will never understand in light
of all those other poems
she says I wrote
about those other women
before she drove north.
And so
...
Continue reading...
Categories:
fritter, wifeme, rose,
Form: Free verse