by Andrew Diamond | Apr 12, 2010 | Poetry
I mustn’t complain, But the queue’s in the street and it’s started to rain. There’re two at the counter, designed to take seven. I got here at ten, now it’s five to eleven. It’s the same at the Doctor’s, the Building Society; We all stand in line, so passive and...
by Andrew Diamond | Apr 12, 2010 | Poetry
I always eat my vegetables, I always eat my greens; Cauliflower and carrots, even brussel sprouts and beans. I’m told that eating vegetables is healthy for my tum And if I do not finish them I’m walloped by my mum. The vegetables I eat are always what my mother’s...
by Andrew Diamond | Apr 12, 2010 | Poetry
I’m craving for an ice cream; I’m told that it’s pathetic. I know I mustn’t have one because I am diabetic. I’d love a piece of chocolate or any other sweeties, But I am not allowed them because of my diabetes. I really ache to have some cake, a bun or an éclair, But...
by Andrew Diamond | Mar 15, 2010 | Poetry
A poet is a tortured soul And while the day is dawning The words are spinning round his head And he must get up from his bed To capture them on paper, Before it’s really morning. The poet’s wife is tortured too. She goes to sleep and then He won’t just slip out to the...
by Andrew Diamond | Mar 11, 2010 | Poetry
That was her chair She always sat there Her natural place No invading her space That’s where she sort Of sat and held court And after she died I sat there and cried.
