Emerald Dragon Archives

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Posted on March 24, 2011 at 7:42 AM Comments comments (0)

It was the kiss of kisses. If Rodin

Had been around he could have made it a

New work of art for a world to see. Her


Lips were moist and warm; he felt them press soft

Against his own; heard the moan; sensed her breasts

Nudge. This was nothing like what his father


Had once said of kissing, something different,

Nothing missing. He sensed her fingers touch

His neck; they slid slowly down, then up. He


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Posted on February 25, 2011 at 4:39 AM Comments comments (0)

Martha remembers the Ebony

Crucified given to her by a former


Boyfriend to encourage her to let

Him fuck but she never did but kept


The Christ tucked in her handbag with

Purse of coins and handkerchief and


Tampons and candy bars and a pack of

Cigarettes and plastic lighter she liberated


From some store in Tipperary and as the

Boyfriend lay on her bed trying to get his


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Posted on January 18, 2011 at 6:45 AM Comments comments (1)

Come in Miss Broston and sit down or lie

On the couch over there if you wish I

Don’t mind whichever is best for you and


You wander into Doctor Freudbank's room

With its blue walls and framed certificates

And bourgeois paintings and sit in the black


Chair opposite his desk that reminds you

Of the big desk in your father’s study

Where he used to sit most days and if you’d


Been a bad gi...

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Posted on January 7, 2011 at 3:53 AM Comments comments (0)

You oughtn’t to use bad language, Anny

Says, appearing out of nowhere, a small


Bow tied in her long blonde hair, Momie said

It wasn’t good. You say, I never use bad


Language when I write poems about you.

She comes closer to the PC and stares


At the screen. Is this poem about me?

Most of it, you say, gazing at her small


Ghostly hand on the arm of the swivel

Chair. Her f...

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Posted on January 3, 2011 at 4:36 AM Comments comments (0)

Hold that pose, he said, and she did and she

Was most surprised that he allowed her to

Keep her clothes on and not have to pose in

Some seductive or pornographic way


Or fashion as he often termed it, which

Reminded her of Mother’s words before

She had left home years ago, always keep

Your dignity Wally never let men


Take advantage of you because you’re a

Woman, but she had let that gem of word...

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Posted on December 28, 2010 at 4:44 AM Comments comments (0)

Hang on there Abe Mr Mancryer says

I want to have a father to son talk

Before you go out no it’s not about


The loan I know you’ll pay me back before

The year is through no it’s about the young

Dame you were with the other night the hot


Brunette (how could I forget) you know the

One who has the figure and eyes to die

For and the swaying hips to make your mouth


Water well she&...

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Posted on December 17, 2010 at 6:48 AM Comments comments (0)

When Rachel saw Mr Marchtwit kill and

Skin the rabbit by the backdoor ready

For dinner that evening, she ran to

The hutch of Miss Bunn, took her out, and hid


With her in the old garden maze out of

Sight of the gamekeeper and other’s gaze.

She held her on her lap, stroked her ears and

Soft back, and kissed her head. What if Mr


Marchtwit gets you Miss Bunn, kills you, skins you,

And puts you in for to...

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Posted on December 3, 2010 at 7:57 AM Comments comments (2)

Matilda listens to make sure they’ve gone out knowing Mr Doozie the cat is licking his milk the slurping sound fills the now silent room but she has to be sure her aunt and uncle have gone she can’t allow Moses to come in by the backdoor until they’re long gone and in the town buying and selling their wares she places her hands on her head and closes her eyes to focus her listening to close out Mr Doozie’s sounds the saucer of milk being pushed across the floor the pur...

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Posted on November 27, 2010 at 7:28 AM Comments comments (1)

Mr Brishfelt has disappointed

You again he says he’ll come

For you to take you out but once


Again he has let you down and

You all dressed to the nines and

With the new dress he bought


And the pristine shoes that he

Selected which you faithfully

Wear and the way he likes your


Hair and oh he says when you

Speak please mind the way you

Enunciate the words can’t have

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Posted on November 20, 2010 at 3:50 AM Comments comments (0)

Mole’s seen her in photographs

On the internet somewhere but

It isn’t until she sits down at a


Table in the café and turns to

Look at him that it dawns on him

Who she is (but it can’t be he tells


Himself she died in an ambush in

1934 machine-gunned down by

Cops in a car with Clyde Barrow)


Yet the more she stares the clearer

Comes the image of Bonnie Parker

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