Poems not poetry

Farewell Old Friend

We bought you on a drunken whim,Collected you from a Lincoln farm,You cried and whined on the journey home,Sliding and slithering in your pee. We

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Buddhist Poem

I wrote this poem for an SGI Buddhist Discussion Meeting I was unable to attend. Hope you enjoy it. Nam Myoho Renge Kyo.

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My Hands

Baby hands, slippery with dribble, Fascinating. Next, with fingers chubby and sticky, Practising with a teaspoon, Diving into a Squat Tiggywinkle dish. New year’s Eve,

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Wonder bra

When I was a teen, so absorbent, My friend and I would share our coins, To buy a magazine.   We’d huddle on a bench

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