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Poetry

The Happy Hangman

 

‘Death’s dredger delayed,’ cries the Skull and the Cloak,

I wait down at heart, the quay at low tide.

 

My friends are the rats, the rope and the rocks,

The Ferryman screams by the gate of the docks.

 

The dungeons of my soul racked with my guilt,

To pay for my sins my blood will be spilt,

 

Too fallen to feel my life has been robbed

My offences to Heaven rise with the smog.

 

Betwixt Heav’n and Hell my name fit for curse

No appeal judge me granted, my case unrehearsed.                  

 

Help never coming, no saviour, no cheer,

Life my tormentor, my enemy clear.   [2007]  

                                                           

 

 

Pearl Fishers

 

Fishermen off the island of Tamarind

Wear stone blocks

Around their necks and ankles

Which keep them underwater

Till their deaths.

 

Unless a pearl-minded friend

Bewitched by a spout of mercy

Notices the flute of bubbles

And offers a hand of relief

To prolong the Torture of Life.   [2007]  

                                              

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