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Sometimes frustration gets the better of mebecause I’m stuck doing geography in a language I don’t fully understandinstead of writing poetry. Sometimes I write poetry in the bathroom.Sometimes I long to be alone a little while, with no demands on me.I wonder why the children are climbing the walls, running round the housein circles, spiralling, spillingtoys... Continue Reading →
Seven Sisters road runs fromsomewhere intersecting thesweep of Holloway Road andslightly seedily on toSouth Tottenham, travellingSouth West to North East: neverspeak of starlight, City blind. © Experimentsinfiction 2020, All Rights Reserved Written for dVerse Poetics: Stars that count. Laura is hosting tonight and has asked us to write a 'Pleiades poem.' I found this incredibly... Continue Reading →
It is the winter of this strangest yearwhen closeness equalled danger and aloneconsidered safe, we faced the fear of life in dull dejected isolation. Or else, locked down inside the lion’s denwe found ourselves imprisoned, desperate for some source of escape, a hand, a friendwe hoped for help, but help arrived too late. For what shall we... Continue Reading →
G'day readers! More madcap mayhem with a serious twist from the mind of Aussie poet Don Matthews today. If you like this, you'll love Don's very own website, The Flippant, Comic, and Serious. If you're lucky you may even get to meet Priscilla, the Cat of Many Colours (featured in one of her many guises... Continue Reading →
G'day folks! Bringing you another bonza poetry selection courtesy of Don from Down Under. Check out more of his work at The Flippant, Comic, and Serious. If you're lucky you might even get to meet Priscilla (pictured.) Happy Little Counting Rhymer I am a happy rhymer1, 2, 3, 4 ,5I'm practising my counting skillsYes, fingers... Continue Reading →
I long for those high lonely placesup there in the realm of endless sunup whereclouds gather thenskies thunder lightning strikesrain follows falling thena rainbow paints the skyand I long once again for those high places those high, wide open spaceswhere I once wandered freelyas a childdreams, hopes, imagination unrestraineddesire saying nothing more to me than'let me wander here!'And still... Continue Reading →
‘God is a DJ’ is a songI used to findsomewhat ridiculous:As if God would want us alldry humpingto the thumping beats inside some grimy club, and no doubt highon one or other drug. Later on, however, I realised that this songmight have another meaning:If God is a DJ, then it follows thatmusic must be divine.At times,... Continue Reading →
I have been witness`when the storm swelled out at seaa lonely lighthouse anchored at the shore casting light upon the surging tideand knowing I could do no morethan witness, bea beacon blazing light as you were tossed about in wavesand almost dashed to pieceson the treacherous rocksof self-doubt and self loathing. Beacon I, a witness, Iloved... Continue Reading →
Hanging out in Mar-a-Lago, nowthat’s cool:somebody told me it should beLago-a-Marthat’s what will happen to Florida;haven’t a clue what she meantand she certainly didn’t have a pussy worth grabbingwomen like that should not be seen or heardthe rest of women should only be seen:You hear me, boys?Me, a loser?How much are you worth?How many golf... Continue Reading →
Today, Aussie Poet and regular guest contributor Don Matthews of The Flippant, Comic, and Serious is bemoaning the destruction of paradise in the name of progress, touring the constipations, and reflecting on the contrasts between the flippant and serious sides of his poetry. Grab yourself a 'tinny' and to enjoy the show, but don't get... Continue Reading →
