The RikVerse
The RikVerse website is a living book of poems, regularly revised and updated with new work as the muse I ride sees fit
22 Facets of my Father
A set of poems loosely inspired by the Major Arcana tarot cards, investigating the relationship between a father and a son.
hardcopy: £2.49 + p&p
Play Time
These 22 poems are some of my earlier work, from the poems that survived the post-puberty bonfire up to around the turn of the century.
hardcopy: £2.49 + p&p
From Each Skull, A Story
None of the people described in these poems are real – they've all emerged fully formed from my imagination. Feel free to draw whatever conclusions you like from this admission.
hardcopy: £1.99 + p&p
Poems to Quote to your Lover
In this collection, I am proud to present you with some love. These poems deal with loves and relationships in all their wonderful and woeful manifestations.
hardcopy: £1.99 + p&p
The RikVerse: volume 1
Includes all four of the above chapbooks, at half the price!
hardcopy: £4.99 + p&p
The RikVerse Website
The Kalieda Encyclopaedia
The Rikweb forum
Rik's Issuu page
Old friends, old friends, sat on a park bench like bookends
ReplyDeletea newspaper blows through the cracks, falls on the round
toe, of the high shoe, of the old friends, winter companions
the old men, lost in their overcoats waiting for the sun,
sounds of the city sifting through trees, settles like dust
on the shoulders of the old friends. Can you imagine us
years from today, sharing a park bench quietly, how terribly
strange to be seventy, old friends, memories brushing
the same year, silently sharing the same fears, time it was
and what a time it was, it was a time of innocence
a time of confidences, long ago it must be, I have a photo-
graph, preserve your memories they’re all that’s left you.
Simon & Garfunky poem
Old friends, old friends, sat on
ReplyDeletea park bench like bookends
a newspaper blows through the
cracks, falls on the round
toe, of the high shoe, of the old
friends, winter companions
the old men, lost in their
overcoats waiting for the sun,
sounds of the city sifting
through trees, settles like dust
on the shoulders of the old
friends. Can you imagine us
years from today, sharing a park
bench quietly, how terribly
strange to be seventy, old
friends, memories brushing
the same year, silently sharing
the same fears, the time it was
and what a time it was, it was
a time of innocence
a time of confidences, long ago
it must be, I have a photo-graph,
preserve your memories they’re
all that’s left you.
Old Friends S&G.
Sorry Rick, the fornatting won't alllow the correct layout for this to appear as a proper poem.
Go here to Steven Augustine's blog, comment April 7, 2010 at 6:10 pm, and you'll read it correctly.
Cheers.
Des