The Poems of David Garlick
India, my India, how I remember you. Not as some soldier or wide eyed tourist awed by your ancient culture – and your milling multitudes. Nor fascinated by the riches of a maharaja, horrified by mutilated beggars in the streets or shocked by the teaming destitute that throng the Kashmir Gate. No I remember […]
When we are gone, what would we leave behind? Few rate a statue cast in bronze or build a monument to shout their name. So what do we, the ordinary folk who toil each day to make the two ends meet, expect that those we leave behind will think of us in fleeting memory? […]
As Boilermakers go he went as far as he could go. With booze and broads and gambling his money he would blow. He worked on any job he could to keep him in the black and when he was away from home he’d find a place to shack. So any skirt he happened […]
I fear, the love that I’ve been blessed with, may never come to those I hold most dear. It grieves my soul that love so far has flown by, where empty hearts quietly await. I’ve watch the anguish of those pilgrims who seized too early or not wisely, empty love. Mistaking wants and […]