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Table Of Contents

The curse of Face-book
Gone virtual
Few Regrets
Food in Oslo
Poetry
Mum´s Reading Glasses
The New Me
The Vulgar and the Beautiful
The Gentle Boy
The Understanding
Tiny Drones
Posh Poetry
Good Intensions
Another friendly Poem
The Friendship
Accidental Police Killing
Doing the Right Thing
The Politics of Work
A sad affair in India
Love
Time
Sort of Tanka
The Wistful Song
Sea Life
Tasmania
The Wish
Antelope
Interment
Salary man
Monday Morning
And this is Not a Poem
The Guilty One
The Escapees
Unsatisfied
The Crippled Mind
Kings
Food and Elvis
A detective Story
The Whisper of Love
Pornographic exploitation
The Oncoming
Awakening
The Carpet Seller and Dali Lama
How to slow down time
Freedom Loving Cowboy
A Bridge in Portugal
Hitler Lives
Stone Horse
Can Trees cry?
Mermaids
Hellenic
Hippophagy
Water Shortage
Children do tell Lies
The Witness
Services Rendered
Sunset
The Reformatory
The Loss
Saying
Lost Value
Salami for a Horse
An Almond Tree
Who Wants to Be a Chicken?
While Waiting
The Last Voyage
Apparition
Recollection
Eastertide
October in Paris
A Sea Dirge
P. 1
Vignettes, Prose Poetry, and Humour

Vignettes, Prose Poetry, and Humour

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Published by AuthorHouseBooks
Poetry

There are times when I despair of some poetry
written, nice words knitted together for the sake
of sounding pleasant the truth of life is made
into a Hollywood romance, beautiful and we cry,
misspent, sentimental tears over the irrelevant.
My almond tree looks spindly like an oversized
spiders web, so ugly in its bareness that hadn´t
it been for love I would have averted my gaze
from this grimness called a tree. But I also know,
say, a month from now it will be covered in pink
flowers which it strews on the path I walk.
There are times when I hate to hear about red
roses, because the next sentence will be trivial,
like bleakness should not be a part of life.
Poetry

There are times when I despair of some poetry
written, nice words knitted together for the sake
of sounding pleasant the truth of life is made
into a Hollywood romance, beautiful and we cry,
misspent, sentimental tears over the irrelevant.
My almond tree looks spindly like an oversized
spiders web, so ugly in its bareness that hadn´t
it been for love I would have averted my gaze
from this grimness called a tree. But I also know,
say, a month from now it will be covered in pink
flowers which it strews on the path I walk.
There are times when I hate to hear about red
roses, because the next sentence will be trivial,
like bleakness should not be a part of life.

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Published by: AuthorHouseBooks on Apr 17, 2013
Copyright:Traditional Copyright: All rights reservedISBN:9781481788946
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11/14/2013

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9781481788946

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