Loss of a Poet

Come read TL Cummings wonderful tribute to Maya Angelou

TLC'S VIRTUAL EXPRESS: A Train of Poetry Visits this Station


The teakettle sings,

toast springs,

I sit with a pen,

stare through the window.

A possum appears

from under the fence.

Two dogs bark.

A rainbow arcs over

strings of houses

like beads on a chain.

A headline above the fold,

like a row of ballerinas on a stage,

lures my eyes.


Poet Maya Angelou Dead at 86

She believed dance

is the closest form of art to poetry –

balance, precision, pirouettes.

My thoughts slope

on a page, words

stumble, fall. So I

lift a cup of tea,

go outside, watch

the clouds, imagine

Angelou’s words

pulling me apart,

forming lines of metaphors,

balanced in the blue.

— t. l. cummings

Shutterstock image.

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My Problem Age  

Come and read Roland’s fun and humorous – “My Problem Age”!

Roland's Ragbag

old father time2WHB – 2017



Am I at a problem age?

. . . OR

Do I have an old age problem?

. . . OR

Am I just part of an age-old problem? 


Age is a problem, I’ve no doubt,
And one that can’t be solved.
Since time began
We know that Man
Has gradually evolved.

So, given that the speed of change
Is constantly advancing,
Why cannot we
Forever be
Subject to life enhancing?

It’s certainly an age-old problem,
Not just one of old age.
An anagram,
A new life plan,
Waiting to be assuaged.

I’m at a problem age right now
At the age of eighty two.
I’m obdurate,
I agitate,
And no one tells me what to do.

And when I get to One-O-Two
Who knows what I’ll be like?
I might begin
To live in sin,
Or start a hunger strike.

Time will…

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