top of page
Man Resurrected 
by Patricia Walsh

It’s strange, to look at your kingdom now

In the same way as called hence

Spinning like a ferris wheel, in control

Never repeating the same journey.



The false greenery tickles the redeemed

Some diction hitting home, a slow puncture

Exhausted coffee cups await disposal

Skimming cards a likely outcome.y


Eating for superiority, cooked to a tee

Thousand welcomes trite with repetition

Express journeys facing the inevitable

Finite comfort a thing to strive for.


Master of the ceremonies that’s in it

Sinking drinks to a brain’s demise

Joy in resurrection for another year

Hearing indulgence over a din.


Quoting one’s own work is a killer

A limited mileage cutting your swathe

An arrogant boredom is completely yours

Mentioning your betters a done thing.


Just in case you come around again

Resurrected, painful, a fleshly reminder

Think of your sorrowing, a piteous act

Seeping through decorum, a price sought.

bottom of page