Spectral Horse Poems No. 1

By Simon Pole

Poems about God, poems about The Ramones. Long poems, short poems, sonnets and narrative verse—find it all in Spectral Horse Poems No.1, the first in a new series of chapbooks from Simon Pole, author of The Saga of Terminal City. A must-have for lovers of modern rhyming and blank verse.

Poems included:

Like A Lamb
Painted From Life
Old Folks
Wild Fountains
The Ramones Are Dead
Virus P.O.V.
The Counter-World (Echoes of Otherness)
The Killer’s Brain
Love of Life
Heady Freeson’s Rock Sound
The Gargoyle
Father Henry Pew
Dolls of Dirt
Marks On A Page
A Curse

Bio

His mind corrupted by childhood exposure to horror movie matinees, but equally enthralled by the atmosphere of old churches, Simon Pole writes cosmic poetry from the location of Vancouver, British Columbia. A graduate of Harvard University, Simon has continued his studies of what is hidden in the dark. Writing is also in his blood, being the great-great-grandson of early Canadian poet Susie Drury.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Simon Pole
• Release date: Aug 21, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311137265

Simon Pole

His mind corrupted by childhood exposure to horror movie matinees, but equally enthralled by the atmosphere of old churches, Simon Pole writes cosmic poetry from the location of Kingsville, Ontario. A graduate of Harvard University, Simon has continued his studies of what is hidden in the dark. Writing is also in his blood, being the great-great-grandson of early Canadian poet Susie Drury.

Book preview

Spectral Horse Poems

Simon Pole

No. 1

Smashwords Edition

www.simonpole.ca

Text copyright 2015 Simon Pole

All Rights Reserved

No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of Simon Pole.

Cover Photo Original by Lóránt Szabó

Used Under License

http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

Table of Contents

Like A Lamb

Painted From Life

Old Folks

Wild Fountains

The Ramones Are Dead

Virus P.O.V.

The Counter-World (Echoes of Otherness)

The Killer’s Brain

Love of Life

Heady Freeson’s Rock Sound

The Gargoyle

Father Henry Pew

Dolls of Dirt

Marks On A Page

A Curse

About the Author

Like A Lamb

In this age I idle am,

Like a glossy, ill-shorn lamb,

Who pranced upon unmown fields,

And to the fence never yields,

Nor a fold at evening seeks.

At the work-yoked ox I sneer,

Who ploughs his row, year on year,

And the cow forever doomed

To lunch be, which comes at noon,

While I from shady glens peek.

On wild grasses graze I good,

And the forest is my hood,

That repels both wind and rain,

And deflects whatever pain

The farmer’s son plots for me.

But sometimes I wonder if

There is a rule I have missed,

Guidance of a greater hand,

Which formed all parts of this land,

The farms and the forest free.

To worship is not a toil

The master who with love oils,

All moving parts of the earth,

And in our hearts kindles mirth

That to be as stars are we.

To shake and dance all the while,

In a thousand unique styles,

Which express the inner flame,

An ember of greater fame,

Of the God who made us all.

So when I wind dusty ways,

And