A poem written for two old Bohemians who through reckless behaviour in a younger year did so destroy the fragile entity of love , and are now left with just the ghost of her to haunt their old empty hearts . --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/steven-richardson5/message

Poetry

BOHEMIAN FUGITIVES

Carrying a vicarious redemption on behalf of someone else is a burdensome weight , the preachers daughter still carries her's each moment of the day a beautiful quiet soul who was given the sin substitutions by her callous caretakers , her atonement isn't due any time soon . --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/steven-richardson5/message

REDEMPTION

Hidden in her silver box were those secret letters of love from a dead lover who in a moment of war when passion was the fashion and she fed hers red and raw to his hungry dog of amour . --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/steven-richardson5/message

LOVE LETTERS

In medieval times quacks were dressed to resemble large birds wearing a huge beaks they believed the soul was delivered and despatched by avian transmigration i.e stalk''s babies , Ravens , omens, Cuckoo's madness . I suppose to the superstition of the ancients cancer begins as a small egg shaped lump and then hatches out of its embryonic stage into a vulturous fleshing bird . --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/steven-richardson5/message

CUCKOO

A musing about my father's experience aboard a super cruise liner where he and most of the old Badgers contracted some terrible infection that almost killed them and this was before the Covid Cruise Lines came along, interestingly you can see how you could end up with a Marie Celeste . --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/steven-richardson5/message

WHITE DEATH

A living monument of mystery Robin Hoods oak is by far the most famous tree in all of ancient history , a thousand years of silent still sophistry , with all its empty holes and hollow the winter winds howl through her creating a mournful sound of sadness and sorrow. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/steven-richardson5/message

ROBIN HOOD

A poem about lust a seemingly deadly sin that if the devil be shamed and the truth told is an instinctive desire that all of us hold . --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/steven-richardson5/message

LUST

Every day the paparazzi serve us our sadistic sacrifice all flesh red and raw, no good being a herbivore if you read the daily tabloid's blood and gore , You've really got to be a proper cover story carnivore with the stomach of a toreador , let's face it the press room's a slaughtering house stable and the editor's desk is nothing more than the butcher's table. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/steven-richardson5/message

PAPARAZZI

Setting off on a world tour in the late seventies was nothing like it is today there were no mobile phones or multimedia just the odd phone box for calls with your thumb and forefinger for transportation hitchhiking thousands of miles around the globe taking years and years almost a decade to the point where many of us became wonderless with our own wanderlust , but we did become quite skilled in the art of conversation due to spending so much time spieling with strangers , way back when you had the safety of being completely anonymous due to not having any mobiles or media where now the new wage travellers are so guarded due to the sapiens surveillance of God Google and the silicone starzi Siri . --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/steven-richardson5/message

NIRVANA

To own a car in the swinging sixties was extremely rare especially for young people but if it was a jaguar then you were the nouveau rich make believe millionaires the fake faux movie stars . Members of my family and their friends were just this usually their balloons burst into bankruptcy debt and divorce, too much money in young hands its like mixing desire together with hell fire . --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/steven-richardson5/message

JAGUAR

A musing about our Star Trek scientists who make it sound like our intergalactic fate is just a walk through a subway station into some subatomic Stargate . --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/steven-richardson5/message

STARGATE

A poem written about a mafia boss who was born in Le panier Marseille the last bastion of Beelzebub , he then rose to become France's ultimate crime Capo Di Capo lasting fifty years before being gunned down in Paris for an old corsican vendetta . --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/steven-richardson5/message

THE GOD FATHER

A poem I wrote for my father who was born in 1926 and now similar to an old model T ford motor car he needs constant tinkering and maintenance to keep him running . I've done my best to copy his gasping Yorkshire speech he was born in the days of horse and cart starting work at the age of twelve down in the mills on the east side of steel river , he mentioned that not only were the steel dreys pulled by the huge shire horses but during the second world they also used the might of elephants from the zoo due to the lack of trucks and the rationing of fuel , for a boy of twelve it was a terrifying experience walking past these huge rumbling beasts that were stabled under the railway arches , each time a train grumbled over the viaduct these massive mammals would bellow out their deafening roars. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/steven-richardson5/message

THE MORTAL MACHINE

Your whale song dream turns out to be the huge squealing brake drums of a distant trash truck it's sound being distorted by the wind gusting through ginnel and gantry ; thrown dustbin lids cymbal into the sobriety of your very unwanted monday morning anxiety . --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/steven-richardson5/message

THE HANGOVER

A short sketch written about a Christmas bash with the old deaf and dementia ridden relatives , cooking programs and war movies talking between both parents and TV channels can be exasperating. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/steven-richardson5/message

MIND-CANDY MUSINGS. anchor.fm/Steven-richardson5

hubhopper

Poetry

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