Broken Crown
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Monthly Archives: July 2016
Poetry Book is Out
The very best of luck to the poet with her sales. Kevin
Hello everyone,
I am so excited to announce that my poetry book is out. I have worked so long on this book and I have self-published it. Thank you so much for supporting me and my work.
Much love to all of you.
Chrissy x
There Was A Young Man Called Neil
There was a young man called Neil
Who’s love for a girl was passionate and real.
She said, “Beware,
For people stare
And my heart it is made of steel”!
Nice
As inconsequencial as a child who did say
As she walked past the aquarium yesterday,
“I have fish like that”.
Me, on my way from my flat
To the pub, thought of France
And innocent children who can no longer dance.
—
There is a shop selling tropical fish, reptiles etc some 10 minutes walk from my home. While strolling along to the pub yesterday evening (Sunday 17 July),I overheard the above snatch of conversation.
Clare
There was a young lady called Clare who liked to dance on the stair. One day she did slip, and fractured her hip, so now she dances on chairs.
There Was a Young Lady Called Fiona
There was a young lady called Fiona
Who took a boat to Iona.
She fell in the sea,
Shouted “Now I am free.
I have always been a bit of a loner”!
As in Days of Yore
When the sun sinks
Man Drinks
From the Lillie lined pool
Where many a fool
Has drunk before.
As in days of yore
So it is now.
I think on how
Everything has changed
Yet remains the same.
The fool
Still drinks
As the sun sinks
Over the stagnant pool
Where lillies have long since gone to seed,
Vultures feed
And luxuriant weeds
Supply all needs.
Ossip Mandelstam: the tragic life of an incredible poet
“My Vibrating Vertebrae and Other Poems” by Agnes Mae Graham
A great guest post on my friend, Victoria (Tori) Zigler’s site, by Chris Graham (AKA the Story Reading Ape), about his mother, Agnes Mae Graham’s collection of poetry. For Chris’s post please follow this link, http://ziglernews.blogspot.co.uk/2016/07/poetry-book-by-author-agnes-mae-graham.html.
The Poet’s Obsession
Love and death are the poet’s great obsession.
Wile the former session
May be long or brief,
‘Tis certain, the performance, once over, ends in grief.
K Morris - Poet 