by Andrew Diamond | Feb 15, 2013 | Poetry
Picasso would paint Three pictures a day, As prolific as me With my poetry. At three in the morning He’d call for his brush And then he would rush Down to his easel Where he would create, Although it was late. Like me with a pen Which I call for, and then I capture my...
by Andrew Diamond | Feb 15, 2013 | Poetry
This is a story About a post mortem I should have attended When I was a youngster Studying the functions Of local authorities. There was a reason Why I couldn’t go To witness the butchery Done at the mortuary, So somebody else Went in my stead, Unafraid of the dead....
by Andrew Diamond | Feb 5, 2013 | Poetry
It’s in the air; An atmosphere You can cut with a knife Because of the tension That clearly exists Between husband and wife. What started off As married bliss So long ago Has come to this And neither of them cares; It’s there in the air. Yet both of them know That...
by Andrew Diamond | Feb 5, 2013 | Poetry
Earth, air, fire and water, Elements we had of old. Each dependent on each other, Changing states through heat and cold. Alchemists would mix them up In their attempts to conjure gold. Now the periodic table Complicates our simple...
by Andrew Diamond | Feb 5, 2013 | Poetry
The air in summer makes me sneeze From pollen floating on the breeze. In winter I am sneezing still As air borne germs give me a chill. So as you see I do not care For what is carried on the air, Made worse by men who are such fools For burning up their fossil fuels,...
