Author Archives: Bill Fitzsimons

Learning the Craft

Now who will free me from the chains of rhyme, so I may pick and play the notes I choose; throw off the shackles of the metric line and pen with liberty the words I use? Why be a slave … Continue reading

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Valerie

Summer-strolling in the park, my pal Keith and I; he, outwardly confident, brash; I, awkward and shy. Two fifteen-year olds, our adolescent hormones fueling us with teenage fantasies and indiscriminate lust. Mooching aimlessly, we ambled in hot sunlight along pathways, … Continue reading

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Domino

“Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.” Oscar Wilde. Could it be, as Wilde suggests, that the mask endows the speaker with a cover behind … Continue reading

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A Satisfied Man

When errant breezes catch your hair, I watch it flow – a stream of golden fire – and my blood races with desire. Your skin, in early morning light, invites my touch, soft and warm – to your body’s hive … Continue reading

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A Walk in the Woods at Sunset

I sometimes walk at sunset through the long woods up beyond my house where the mournful owl swoops among the darkening trees. I pause and listen to the rustle and scurry of unseen feet, the various mutterings of the forest. … Continue reading

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The Thrill of it All

I miss the thrill of reading to a crowd, that uplift to the ego when, aloud, my verses soar, dip, take flight again – no longer trapped on paper, and it’s then my poem may live or maybe die, crash … Continue reading

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Umbilicus

I rise, a latter-day Phoenix, trailing thunder and acetylene flame in my wake, aimed at the broad acres of Heaven. Star traveller, space nomad, technology’s bright archangel, I will fly into God’s blinding eye, the blue eye of genesis. The … Continue reading

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A Perfect Storm

For days the ocean has unleashed its ire, a frenzy born of elemental spite – winds have raged that will not cease or tire till all’s consumed in endless, blackest night. The waves break fiercely on the rocks, and spray … Continue reading

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Pecking Order

Verb – an eager, tail-wagging little word, running wide-eyed between its bigger brothers; words such as conjunctions, prepositions. One of grammar’s doers, never content to lie supine, always knowing that action speaks louder than other words. Pronouns are full of … Continue reading

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Angel

My neighbour is an angel. I can hear her wings flutter at night, her celestial voice harmonising with the thrum of the universe. Each morning I open my door and see a trail of silver angel-dust leading from her house … Continue reading

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