Unconventionally poor like a dog without a saw tooth bark I sit in my unconventional chair and write without imagination I speak the prose of Shakespeare, not Barthelme And I wonder aloud well in my head How can this unconventional life be so bad? and deep and lonely when all I want is a friendContinue reading “Unconventionally Poor”
Category Archives: poem
Obnoxious Air
He leaved the brithing air With every sound he came closer closer to the core until he was there no more He leaved the brithing air like it was muscle attached to bone hacking cough of the gates of hell welcomed every breath He leaved the brithing air silence was his friend andContinue reading “Obnoxious Air”
A Poem
Clearly thinking, or thinking clearly; Orange the future can be!
Haiku #409
The answer is small Then when small multiplies some The changes are big
Haiku #405
Storks and houses are Like stilts and crazies gazing At the passing tide
Moving On
High Street of old A long time ago Where bulls breathed mist dropped dung And horses trotted homeward Books in a bag, coffee in hand, this new library could be the promised land with books for all to read and literacy on tap. Shame it’s being scrapped now we need it the most. The sunContinue reading “Moving On”
Oh, We can plainly
see. That is me and me and me. That you are a fully grown Boy. Clumsily Adept, skillyfuly inept, artyfully kept I am grown, boy. Taking care of myself, being like a little elf, sometimes on task other times at the end of a branch; hanging in motion, listening for the commotion. I am grown, boy. SixContinue reading “Oh, We can plainly”
The little path to greatness
The little path to greatness is a MarioWorld of jumps, power-ups (with awesome sound effects)and mushrooms No. It is made of God and prayer, Luck and judgement, Hard work and toil sunshine and bad weather It’s a walk through the wood that leads to a mountain path that leads to the chariots of the gods.Continue reading “The little path to greatness”
Ash-ed
Whoosh (air) Something came in, something left beats rhyme, cymbals moan, pipes groan, vocals rest their hands on your shoulders and take you for a dance. Casino sounds merge with memory to leave you skint with feeling Did you ever get carried away with thrash guitar and drums? In that state of suggestion, anything comes toContinue reading “Ash-ed”
Where Is IT?
Where is it?(I don’t know) I found something (What have we here?) Is it any good? (It had better be!) Rising like a magma chamber Promises of fame Erasing the past…(maybe) Give us something to do (and practice that work ethic) Let me see what I can do ©2017 Andrew Watkins
I'm bilaterally deaf, schizophrenic, autistic, talented individual. I can see you thinking...What was his day job? Well, I am a qualified systems engineer and i worked in computers. To be honest I can't remember what I wrote in my bio which I deleted. I write I draw, It is my goal in life to be anything but facsimilia. I believe life is duodecimal, you live you die, dark. Some call this depression and indeed I am a depressive schizophrenic. To be something is a great thing-some call it drosophilae syndrome(to be studied), a term I coined myself. As I appreciate in words as I get older sometimes it helps to remember what it was like being a child with drosophilae syndrome where the other is to be seen. This is why I draw and write. 