top of page
Search

Reflection

In mirrored glass,  he stands alone and yet sees his father’s eyes. He sees the fear  that he once had before that man’s demise.  He sees a man where once there stood,  a frightened little boy. But the man is frightened still, it seems, and hides guilt-ridden joy.  Joy at the death of the man who owned  these tired eyes before.  A father now,  without a father, and a freedom to be more.

Recent Posts

See All

The Cock and Balls of Karlheinz Kunkel

As with many teenage boys, drawing a penis and testicles on whichever surface opportunely presented itself was a staple pastime for Karlheinz Kunkel. But whilst the pork swords his friends drew were f

Have A Break. Have A Breaking Point.

The only thing Arnold hated more than everything else was the way Derek ate Kit-Kats. Arnold was convinced that Kit-Kat protocol - nay, Kit-Kat duty - was a human knowledge so innate that it never a

Poem for Competition

I come from a family of brilliant poems Inspirational, slick, well-versed. But none of them ever won a thing, Perhaps I’ll be the first. In a previous attempt at a poetry comp Where the theme was ‘i

Comments


bottom of page