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Author Archives: Bill Fitzsimons
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
Posted in Poetry
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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
Posted in Poetry
2 Comments
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
Posted in Poetry
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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
Posted in Poetry
4 Comments
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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The Lodgers
Ghosts waggle their spectral fingers at me, all day, every day. Their thin smiles linger in sunlit rooms, their empty eyes stare at me from each mirrored surface. At night I hear their faint shufflings under attic eaves, their mouse-squeaks … Continue reading
Aftermath
After the storm, a calmness will lay its cloak upon the earth. In a time of uncertainty and fear we must pull together. We must be strong with the strength of angels. Already, this time of terror has brought out … Continue reading
Posted in Poetry
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