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Extended Haiku Poem

An image like a vine
carries negativity
from my earth to sky

Rooting me to spot
the greenfly of hope die there
and fall off in clumps

The sound of calling
cancels growth of emotion
empathy regained

I trot to dinner
where the fruits of our labours
drown us in a haze

Falling and climbing
Without making a sound shoots
carry on the breeze

The vine is like that
too using imagery of
amphora to gain

A foothold places
It has never ever been.
Conversation grows

and turns this way then
that like a drunken’s pencil
writes a note to God

‘I love the vine wine,
women and song, family
of grapes such as we

should never be CRUSHED!!
As the bottle falls and SMASHED!!
I fall to the floor

With a groan, Wasted
smashed open like a grape; wine
puddles at my feet

Bacchus! You bastard!
That was a terrible waste…
Was that meant to be?

I stagger to my
feet looking for a seat, a
drink of the vine wine

to reassure me
Everything is alright. I
stagger outside and

See the Vines stretch a-
way and that feeling comes back
You’re nowt but a hack!!

And I see inside
nothing so grand as the vines
or fruitful or wise

Then I hear a voice
‘Andrew, come back inside!’ So
go pretend I’m vine.

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Portrait

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God / Allah -All The Same

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