Cro-Magnon Poetry: January 2016

Sometimes as night
Is turning to morning
I feel your tiny pink hand
Creep into my wrinkled old one
And I forget
That life is suffering

What is Cro-magnon Poetry??

It is poetry without pretention, without slavishness to form, or fashion, or profit. It doesn't use words like 'littoral', it speaks a plain English, it resonates with any normal people who read it. It is crude, unrefined, political, humourous, sad, whatever this cro-magnon is feeling the day I write it. It will probably never be 'discovered' by publishers or paid for, it will likely be stolen and submitted by lazy students in writing class. It is the by-product of a life lived, and has to be let out.

I hope you enjoy it.

Cro-Magnon Poetry

Wednesday, January 13, 2016

Hand