His clouds they be hanging low across the mountains, and the lake, she be a shimmering under the dull light of the day my freinds. His Lightning it be flashing, as his Thunder Rolls around the mountainside. It be her woods, he be lighting up. With a sudden flash, her animal’s, they did run for […]Read More IT BE DULL OUTSIDE, BUT MY HEART’S A FLUTTER
This is a new collection of poems from beyond the brocken glass. They come from the electronic pen of M.L.Behan. He hopes you will all like them . This is the first of them . In the light of day they’ll sleep, but only till they are awoken, by the coming of the dusky evening […]Read More We where almost there .
Based on our own interest, why do we vote for candidates in elections for the government of what ever country we live in. Its supposed to be that we vote for a democracy and the running of a government. It this government that is to follow the party line, what ever that might be but […]Read More What’s your job prospect’s this year . Vote for a better life .
You can try and squeeze one out or just sit and contemplate the coming relief or it just might hang there. Then their is the additional inconvenience of that cold shocking exploration of water on the outer edges of one’s anus from the splashback. As the bomb bay doors open so as to release its […]Read More We sit alone on the trone .
I am a giant so come and stand upon my shoulders and see my world of milk and honey . I am a giant so come and see my rivers flowing with life and happiness for you and yours. I am a giant so come and smell what’s cooking in my kitchen because in my […]Read More I am a Giant.
Why is it that you call him a losser, or is it that your just scared he might win . I see you practice every night upon the great chess board of human incompetence. Yet still you stand by in the hope that he might call upon your guidance or is it to be your […]Read More A dead title in the hands of a legendary man.
A shot glass of old Tennessee sipping whiskey and the smell of burning tabacoo swerling fills the room. Her head is filled with ideas about the man that stands at the end of the bar, he lifts his glass and sips his drink. A slow song hits the jukebox and the speaker’s come into life […]Read More A night beside old miss.
You left me standing thereafter on my own , with nothing on my mind but that last night we spent together, in that lonely room at the edge of town . The silence is where my fear lives now knowingly punishing myself for not opening the door, on what he did to the other’s, in […]Read More Hi halo, its me again , that dirty old man you just can’t bring yourself to talk about.
They were still swinging in the wind , assuming that he’s body was blowing in the breeze of the old willow tree. They had lashed him 100 hundred times just because he was black . He was not the first and he was for sure not going to be the last.Read More The unfortunate fact.
I opened the door and their he was , it was not an ambush or a freak accident that he stood alone watching from across the street, for death does not wate for any-body. He could be a freind, or just acquaintance but for sure he was there for me or for you He did […]Read More He stands in wate.