The Illusionist.

Poem By Ripper Jones

Like a thousand pound suit that hides cheap underwear,
Like gloves that hide crooked hands,
Like soldiers that die of fright before they can shoot,
Such is life.

Like a mute imprisoned in the Tower of Babel,
Like a fundamentalist trapped in logic and reason,
Like a pink poodle that thinks it's a wolf,
Such is understanding.

Comments about The Illusionist.

There is no comment submitted by members.

Rating Card

5,0 out of 5
1 total ratings

Other poems of JONES


Walk a little.
Round the corner and up a bit
There it is
The strange round kerbstone


I saw infinity the other day.
I stepped outside this aimless place
of unfulfilled desires.
I was apart from time.

To The Stars

In the reflection of vanitas
You look not at your mortality
Such is the nonchalance of youth.
You deny death a hundred times a day

They Pray

And they pray all night, all day.
See a prayer now as its heavenly trail
Leaves no doubt as to its whereabouts
But look - it's gone the other way

The Radio Broadcasts.

Ezra Pound you hold court,
Lots of great people await your report.
In the mad-house you sit
Like a king giving a remit