I’ve was oft branded
as a crying fool
wha greets when the sair skelp
o’ faithers Sam Browne belt
raised anithir welt
upon my bare arse..
I oft weep..when
thinking o’ my lang
lost brither..
wha suffered mair
than me..an’...
I... wha grew the wyldest hair
jist tae mak lyfe sair
for my bastard sire..
t'was not my choice
that I should shed
a feminine tear...
for I am jist a Man
as tough as ony ither....
My book of poetry is being redone by me, I have a beautiful cover designed and the book will have a few more than 200 poems in it. I am going to have it printed on demand here in Canada. When it is done I will let you know when it is done and if anyo
Welcome!
The poems in this beautifully bound book are a result of over twenty years of observations. Observations of the world around us and on the telecommunications network. All of the hate, love, heroism, disasters, and those who help.
Beautif
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
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Sandie Angel a.k.a. May Lu :o)