Poetry is *******, its stupid, whats the deal
Its all about your feelings
Not about whats really real.
Why do ******* do it
Read it, write that *****
It makes no difference to my life
Its ******* wrong, it isn't right.
What good does poetry do
It doesn't help you think
It doesn't help you sort your ****
Your crap, your life, your fink.
I had a teacher back in time
Who read  me Shakespeare
***** that rhymed
It never made much sense to me
Although I thought in reality
At least the rhythm kept the beat
And made the sound
That tapped my feet.

Wisps of memories.

I’m all of a fuddledump,
Is that my sister or September?
I've lost my streamline, my head  is near.
Mama?.............Mama?...............Mama?
On Board,
The Ship
I've lost…………………………….something.
The determination of a national advantage is through the pursuit of structured economic policies allied with a social  awareness to allow…….
My mind is mollished…
On Board
I should be on board,
Embarking.. that’s it that’s what we said.
Pshhh.
Mama?...................Mama?................Mama?
I’m old and young , that’s a funny one isn’t it, old and young because I want to touch my mother, and I see my granddaughter smiling with her mouth and I want to see her again.
I've lost the………………
The…………………………
The…………………………
The nurse is lovely, she gives me foolish.

The very reverend James Somerville once sniffed
And spoke of his anguish
That the idea of marriage was being eroded
Without the understanding
Of what the institution meant.
He said his book was beyond dispute
About this issue
And he could speak
With confidence
That he was right
When he said that
Love was not the most important thing.
God had a plan
And
That plan involved
Men and women
Not
Men and men
Or
Women and women
Two become one
On an alter of their choice
And declare that love
Before family, friends and folks
Forever.
Marraige.
James.
Understanding and compassion

I hugged a tree once
Like someone said I should
I felt a strong connection
Like I was made of wood.
I sang a song of rebellion
They said it would make me free
My tuning was a little off
I remain confined – in me.
I ventured out to buy a hat
But my head was far too small
I think of all my nonsense
And where I fit it all.
Words are a collection of
Letters on a page
Emotions are unpredictable
Like grief and joy and rage.
Take these words
And read them
Then forget them forever more
There's lots more where they came from
It seems their function is to bore.