Category Archives: creative writing

There Are No Gods

There are no gods.
Men are but sods
In the end
My friend.

Yet we strive
To stay alive.
And some pretend
That there are gods.
But we are sods
In the end
My friend.

Though, the poet’s work may survive
Long after his eyes
Have closed.
And, who knows,
Perchance he may find, at his end
That we are more than mere
Sods.

Yet I fear
That there are no gods.
And we are but sods
In the end
My friend.

Young Women and Whisky

When a young lady most frisky
Offered me some very good whisky,
I said, “lets get off this rock face
And go back to my place,
As on this cliff its far to risky!”.

When A Young Lady With Absolutely No Inhibition

When a young lady with absolutely no inhibition
Entered a rather prestigious competition,
And took off her dress,
Her sweet mother named Bess
Said, “but darling, this is a poetry competition!”.

Through the Poet’s Eyes

We are going to hell in a handcart”
Has for long been a theme of art.
Intellectuals do, sometimes, over intellectualise.
Yet, the poet’s eyes
May, with foresight see
The slow, death, of liberty.