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EponymousShow poetry

Thank you for taking the time to read these.

 

Some are old, some are new and I will add more as I transcribe them from my tatty but well travelled notebook.

 

Please feel free to comment and I will of course return the charity.

 

Peace and Joy

 

Each of the Iraqi children killed by the United States was our child. Each of the prisoners tortured in Abu Ghraib was our comrade. Each of their screams was ours. When they were humiliated, we were humiliated. The U.S. soldiers fighting in Iraq - mostly volunteers in a poverty draft from small towns and poor urban neighborhoods - are victims just as much as the Iraqis of the same horrendous process, which asks them to die for a victory that will never be theirs: Arundhati Roy
Source: Arundhati Roy, "Tide? Or Ivory Snow? Public Power in the Age of Empire," 8/24/04

My Poetry

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My Stories

  • Prologue 1 / The two children trot their horses along the rough grass verge of the country road. The boy of about nine rides a wiry Welsh Mountain pony, palomino in colour with a thin chocolate dorsal stripe, the brown
    32282 lines, October 7, 2007. In >5000 words, Crime, First person, Horror

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