Stuart Miller-Osborne

Blue Haze Fringed White Warm Sun Winter Landscape Softening Slowly

Although I am now an unsuccessful poet A few years ago I found myself on the streets It was not a pleasant experience As although many kind people Gave me small amounts of money I was never gifted Carrot Cake pavement poetry

Summer is some weeks away But I have just worked out That the sun will not set Before seven thirty Until October What a subtle gift this is

As I watched you undress Maggie May I found a small coin in the shallows It was then that I realised That you had travelled to Croatia With your husband And I had been nothing more Than another of your bankrupt lovers

I have missed the last train A mean concrete ending To my dreadful day I will probably hang out In an all night cafe Until the trains wake me up There are others like me Lost in their own lives Exploring the nothingness Of their existence Fellow hawks of the night I have been told […]

Three friends hiking Lost in the splendour Of my beautiful mountains They will never forget These magnificent views And will return many times Beatrice Humble (1934)

Its hollow keys Still haunt me

On my desk I have a stone That has travelled Through the known universe It fell into my garden Some years ago Burnt black and grey It has been decorated By each of the stars That it passed on its long journey

On the day my father was executed I became an orphan It took me years to understand this As he was a loving man Who treated me with a great affection This is my thirteenth and final poem As my tears are staining the ink My heart is so full of hate

After the war they accused him of heinous crimes The slaughter of Jews Blacks Homosexuals Gypsies And many others who were considered inferior But when I asked my father if this was true He said that he was only following orders I asked him again on the day of his execution And he gave me […]