Long Parsons Poems

Scratching Fanny in Cock Lane, a true tale
The year1762 a tale of murder or mystery they boast
 A teenage girl, a drunken parish clerk, and maybe even a ghost
About hordes of aristocrats and wealthy men...

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I am Flight Sgt Ramsay Roe, and my memories have faded,  
Of my experiences in Burma, and their chronological order, 
But into my memory’s deep recesses i have dug and waded, 
Although the exact...

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The year1762 a tale of murder or mystery they boast
 A teenage girl, drunken parish clerk, and maybe even a ghost
About hordes of aristocrats and wealthy men assembling
 Crowds rivalling Covent Garden, Theatres were now...

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You are,                                 ...

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Casting All 'My' Gods Aside!

Let us cast Gods aside if false praise buys salvation,
our actions make Grace less germane (bring us blessing),
and pride (I am ‘saved’) means I judge those who aren’t!
Let us praise God...

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It was in eighteen eighty-six in the streets of Chicago,
where the greatest miscarriage of justice people would know
transpired in an infamous labor-police rendezvous.
Albert Parsons led eighty thousand people on revue.
The strikers marched down Chicago’s Michigan...

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Ancient and modern is this heartbeat 
of a kingdom of four territories;
becoming the first biter to the endocarp of industrialization;
the first host to a global carnival of sports;
running the eldest of all notable department stores
and...

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today I sit & daze out my window having no regrets sowed seeds of honesty
 in humble brevity the words start to get heavy yeah it ain’t easy feeling needy
 inside I fall behind four...

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There I see three smoking pots on the chimney top 
And the fire is on the go in my country home
Where I sit in my chair made of horses hair 
Soft are my feet amongst...

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They sit in the corner by themselves
They sit and watch the day turn into Darkness
Their eyes glazed over in their head
There is a lifelessness within their eyes
I am heavy with sorrow within my heart
For the...

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Shadrach Stone had lived a rather feared life.
Now, it’s back for him like a butcher’s knife.
A man he’d choked in tears leaving his wife,
In many relaxed homes Virus of Strife…

Hammer that crushed the world of...

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I feel that funny bulge a tingle
The mouth was craving for
Doritos and Pringle
Burger King has become the norm
This belly here is weathering hunger's Storm
French Fries Haven
for an old lard unshaven
I'm too late for a Spanish...

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Mother Parsons Makes a Visit

By Elton Camp

Meg’s mother-in-law hadn’t visited for a while
Yet, her approaching stay didn’t bring a smile

Long before Meg and Ken’s marriage had begun
She’d made it plain Meg wasn’t good for her...

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Row after row they all look the same
Fading white marble with name after name
Grass growing slowly, groomed by the week
Occasional strangers; other names that they seek
Lying in wait, no one seeks my stone
No tears shed...

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Atomic payback made impact dramatically 
Physics split minute energy into mammoth 
Allied forces warned Hiroshima, Nagasaki
Destroyer of worlds, Now I become death

Military master, Japan, thought threat outrageous 
Devastation loomed, four tonne 'Boy' understated 
Captain William...

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Everyday I Die..

I am broken
Falling apart
Cursed at birth
Tortured tied to the windmill of the mind
Heart in tatters and ripped apart
By evil hand
An unwanted orphan
Umbilical chord
Severed from the world
I no longer understand
Or want to dwell
I a...

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If you were sky,
         I want to be cloud
         because it seems to everyone that I am a small...

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Nearby, drained, workaday faces pass by:

Working people with working class woe:

Faces bent in suffering, near hopelessness, made indiscriminate rue.


But turn on the car radio as the people pass by within earshot:

Music escaping from the radio,

Like...

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this is my own experience it happened to me.
There is an eye similar to the Alan Parsons project on my door,
Also when I attend group the Matre on the door template read Parsons
I'm haunted almost...

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The Raven by The Alan Parsons Project
https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=170&v=mfBpxfRAPo4

through my sleeping
a bit of napping
I kissed the glimpse
of a wrapper tapping...
countless creations
of ever lasting
flipped the switch
in tricks of timing

t’is only this...

at pebbles shore
the silken lips
of evermore
whispering in mist
of...

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911 poem

I see flames and smoke 
Terrorists thinking it a big joke 
Sounds of eplosions in the air 
Screams and cries are everywhere 
Little children dying 
At home the parents are crying 
Sounds of sirens...

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Quietly recalling
Those few days long past
Where night rose undisturbed
Allowed to live in solitude
Distant from the hum of the city
And the glare of its radiance
For here silence is silence
And dusk mutes the mountainside
Giving fearful pause even...

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Here he comes again
The keyboard pounder on the loose
Sure wish he’d learn to type
Without the finger abuse
Or overuse of
The Backspace key

Don’t smack me
I didn’t lose your pictures
You should have backed them up
Before you opened that...

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