by Chris Green | Aug 25, 2008 | Poetry
The Doctor has said, “Forget it, my friend.” So sadly said, “For you life does not extend.” I have found new life from this sorrow And strength, born of knowledge, And relief, born of that same knowing; Each item has become more intimate – Touch, sight, sound, smell...
by Chris Green | Aug 25, 2008 | Poetry
The Guard Commander sitting in his chair Sighs, glances around and ruffles his hair. Peace. Neither grey-clad, plastic telephone Dares to ring, ere the snap of telling bone Summons, once more, peace from the ringing air And death comes for the noisy, ringing pair....
by Chris Green | Aug 25, 2008 | Poetry
Are guns bad? Are people totally good? Any gun is only a mechanism, Like a clock that sits ticking the ages passed On someone’s Victorian mantelpiece. The clock mechanism was built to give time And the gun only gives ammunition. “Ah but,” you say, “what happens when I...
by Chris Green | Aug 25, 2008 | Poetry
A keen and fresh wind: coming hard from the sea, Whipping at the grass, biting at the smoker’s chest; Tugging at the window and at the walkers’ clothing As they lean their ways from the cookhouse, weaving With the rush of the wind in its surf-surging. In front of me...
by Chris Green | Apr 24, 2008 | Poetry
Do you want to live forever? The cynical statement of one about to die, Or the practical thoughts of a forebearer, Or ‘Dulce Decorum Est’ that little lie. In my mind’s eye, I see life Everlasting, a population bursting And all the great crimes are rife; While once...
