Still Life By Terry Ireland

Two women at a table As though divided by a wall; Although one of them is speaking There's no communication at all. She speaks of the thirty years Of her late son's passed life; The other thinks of just five years As first his lover and then his wife. It could be two different people That they talk and think about; To one a missed beloved son To the other a bully and a lout. They look through each other One full of pity the other of hate Wishing it could be different, But knowing it's too late. Two women at that table Each one icily polite Just waiting for the moment To end that dreadful night

Copyright Terry Ireland 2011

thisisUll.com Featured Writer Terry Ireland

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Poetry - My Microphone My Rules By Ruth Dixon
	My Microphone, my rules They be the fools Who think otherwise Who fixate their piercing eyes on me Expect me to enunciate, antici ... Pate exactly how they think it should be. Read more...

Poetry - My T.V Guide By Jody McKenna

If I managed productions Of T.V in the day, I'd change the title Loose Women To Feminists in Pain. Pop Idol to Cheese on Toast And Emmerdale to Drone Big Brother into Read more...

Poetry That Fucking Cockerel By Catherine Scott

I'm going to kill that fucking cockerel if he wakes me up again Every summer morning he's up at 4.00 a.m. He's done this to me too many times when I'm relaxed and sleeping sound So I'm sure you understand that of his flesh I want my pound That cockerel's gonna DIE! Read more...

Poetry - When I'm Feeling Low By Laurenceaux.

When I've had a bad day, or I'm feeling low; or the world's overpowering and I've no place to go; and if I'm in a bad mood and cross with myself, hating others and feel left on the shelf; Read more...

Poetry - Sammy's Point By Brian Hodgins

On the north bank of the Humber, At a place called Sammy's Point, The breakers torch began to burn, What had made this city great? The finest ships that ever sailed, Manned by the finest men, They knew no fear, tho' death was near, Read more...

Poetry Makeover By Mike Watts

There is much that needs fixing in this house. Working a nostril with my thumb, I run my fingers Over wallpaper that can remember cheap fuel, pound notes, And me with thicker hair. I move across carpet, worn and faded, like big game, shot and Thrown down a hundred years ago. Read more...

Poetry - Ham By Mark Walmsley
	Anticipation in the air Not a seat to be had Not an empty chair Ice cream and popcorn being eaten by all The lights go down, in the Victorian hall The curtains pull out and the stage is set Read more...

Poetry - Administration's Curse By George Fripley

They fuck you up, administrators, They don't mean to but they do, And while you're drowning in your work, They add some extra, just for you. But they were fucked up in their turn By administrators in the past, Who devised the systems now in use, Read more...

Poetry - Sensations By Sylvia Robinson

As warm as red, as cold as blue As friendly as green, and calming too As vibrant as orange, subdued as black As white as snow, before any tracks As mellow as yellow, with lemony twist As bold as purple, as grey as mist As bland as beige, as glistening as gold Read more...

Poetry - This Was My Day By Monkeyleg

I lay on those cliffs for hours, Watching and waiting, Listening to the lone farmhouse, A distant way to the west. The gentle swell of the North Sea, Behind me, to the east. My mind an easy wind. Read more...

Poetry - Claude Stanley 'Chuckles' Choules; 3rd March 1901 - 5th May 2011 By Terry Ireland

The last known combat survivor of the great war has passed and gone ninety three years almost since it ended in so any ways the world has moved on We kill more efficiently these days the leader of a nation of great wealth watches by beamed live transmissions as a terrorist leader is killed by stealth Read more...