MODERN WORKS 2020 ~ 17 – PHIL LYNOTT WAS A POET

A NEW PUBLICATION:

MODERN WORKS 2020 ~ 17 – POEM 15

To celebrate the launch of my NEW booklet containing 16 diverse poems and essays entitled : MODERN WORKS 2020 – I am happy to offer a signed, printed hard-copy and FREE worldwide delivery. All but one of these 16 pieces are BRAND NEW WORKS completed during 2020.

This latest collection of written verse – MODERN WORKS 2020 – comes in the usual edenbray-pamphlet A5 format and is printed professionally and beautifully in a 36 page booklet style publication with a cream-stock card cover that I have self-published to my own specifications.

I am able to offer my 2020 Annual of Verse at an opening price of just £7.00 inc. post and packing for shipping to literally anywhere in the world. So please use the PAYPAL Link below to make your purchase or you can contact us by leaving a message in the comments box at the foot of this page or please email me directly at:-stepheneede689@btinternet.com – I would sincerely appreciate hearing from you and we will make sure you get a copy of my new book/pamphlet and also keep you up to date with any developments regarding my work.  – (please indicate if you would rather NOT receive emails concerning my work when you order)

PAYPAL LINK – TO ORDER YOUR COPY OF – MODERN WORKS 2020

https://paypal.me/SeedProducts?locale.x=e

Many thanks ~ edenbray

Finally, to Celebrate the launch of my NEW BOOK I am posting all 16 poems over 16 consecutive days RIGHT HERE on my edenbray-BLOG-SITE B  – TODAY  – the Poem – PHIL LYNOTT WAS A POET  : ~ 

.   .   .

MODERN WORKS 2020

by edenbray

.   .   .

PHIL LYNOTT WAS A POET .. .

.   .   .

The wide, the woven, the smell of fear

Easier to hide than make a stand

Form a band, cover yourself in glory

Write your own story, nights of fury

.

Intelligence is weary, culture vulture

Under the lights of night your face black

Your heritage an echo, a Gaelic refrain

Up on the stage of fame, spike the stain

.

Carry me home, wander free, a family

Stand out under the stars naked, your

electric harp, with the boys of harmony

Bringing it home, not when you’re alone

.

Pass the skit, the rush, the hit, atonement

Write it down in your mothers scrapbook

Looking for the mass ascension, Johnny boy

Collecting friends along the way, adjacent

.

Musha ring dum a do, whack for my daddy-o

The jar is left, shake the tree, where did daddy go?

Fender Jazz, Precision, give it to sad clowns of derision

Learned to star, scar the stage, no boot stud indecision

.

Fame train carries a barb, a wye switch derailer

Home mommy’s kid, not greedie tin’ bitch syringe

Leather clad, punk sad, ride the ferris wheel ..

Get off the track, gentle guitar man, Lynott you are a poet

..

              

                                                                                        edenbraytoday 30.11

About edenbray

I've always enjoyed writing and that is all I want to do... .. . I’m not sure why I ever stopped, was it 9/11? .. . edenbray is born ugly, wet and covered in blood, mucous and bodily functions ~ the effluence of my short life .. . I am a Writer and Artist since 1966 - I'm now an avid Blogger ~ I write lots of poems, written essays, articles, reviews, opinion + comment .. . I have had many poems selected for Anthologies of verse and recently have published many of my poems in 24 themed booklets ... please ask for details and join the shebang by leaving me a marker with a 'like' or comment for my ego and encouragement :- thank you so much for listening ~ edenbray
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