Big C. |
The first sure sign;
The lump, sublime.
The next alarm;
The red- viened arm.
The handsome Doc';
The "Sit down, please":
The state of shock.
The word disease.
The diagnosis;
The "good" pr...
Posted by Darryl Joseph on Mon, 26 Mar 2007 04:41:00 PST |
Grief |
June, to God, went running;
John said, "Wait June, I'm a' coming:
With you, and my Master, I'll soon speak,
In, I guess, about sixteen week'".
Posted by Darryl Joseph on Sun, 25 Mar 2007 03:44:00 PST |
Retrospective |
The cutting of newspaper was paper -clipped to a picture
Of a pop star who had stolen this or that; Logged "rock n roll",
With Perry Como and Luke Goss;
His name was Peter Moss.
He read ...
Posted by Darryl Joseph on Sun, 25 Mar 2007 01:45:00 PST |
War; another Letter. |
When I get older
I will marry a soldier
With a big gun.
Just like my mum.
My daddy says it's hot
And he hasn't yet got shot
Out in the war;
There was a knock on our door.
T...
Posted by Darryl Joseph on Sun, 25 Mar 2007 01:31:00 PST |
War; a Letter. |
Dear God. My name is Rod. Daddy drives a tank
So protect his flank. He chases the baddy. Protect
My daddy. Rod is dad's name. Like me. The same.
It's a...
Posted by Darryl Joseph on Sun, 25 Mar 2007 01:15:00 PST |
Equality |
I will run the hoover round;
Grant all your domestic wishes.
I'll iron dust and do the dishes,
And cook, and walk the hound:
If you hunt and gather for me
I'll stay home and wean the bab...
Posted by Darryl Joseph on Sun, 25 Mar 2007 01:00:00 PST |
Nan. |
From way back, close to infancy,
Comes an abiding memory:
Every single New Year's Eve
The darkest one was told to leave
The room, and step into the chill
Untill the chiming bells were still;
The darke...
Posted by Darryl Joseph on Tue, 13 Mar 2007 03:27:00 PST |
Mum |
To Mum
An August day
In Roughsedge Hey,
In summer sun,
Mum, hair in a bun, said,
"Please don't run after rag- man's barrows
While you're holding those nasty, sharp French-arrows,"
While my bro...
Posted by Darryl Joseph on Wed, 07 Mar 2007 05:21:00 PST |
Love |
Bi-Polar Blues.
Sometimes in bed when they are lying like spoons each knows that in the other ones eyes is a yearning that thier medications will, somehow, forever synchronise, so th...
Posted by Darryl Joseph on Wed, 07 Mar 2007 04:08:00 PST |
Life |
Peter
Peter was my midwife.
He and I in the womb we fought;
He was wise, and patient, and easily caught
And dragged me into a room called life
(In this room I swear I saw
Othello, Shakespeare's...
Posted by Darryl Joseph on Wed, 07 Mar 2007 04:37:00 PST |
