Sonnet – #indyref2

Chaos; their downfall and their sordid shield,
this small government of one trick ponies.
Inexperienced, out of touch phonies;
who grasp a fiery sword too hot to wield

This cabinet lacks experts of the field;
all opportunists or Johnson’s cronies.
Waste of nation’s time on ceremonies;
another option most found unappealing

and while Corbyn’s loss may be Starmer’s gain
will this new party change, or stay the same.
Let’s hope they oppose in more than just name
and cast off their antisemitic shame.

If labour cannot show that they have healed
Then Independent Scotland’s fate is sealed.


Picture Used Taken: Stirling, Scotland (November, 2016) ©DSCoremans

Sonnet: Lambs

Lambs in fields seem to grow faster each year;
Growing to look like their mothers, before
Winter will come and soon we ignore
their youth, replaced by usefulness or fear.

Their lives belong to the highest bidder
who may have travelled from the farthest shore,
for a new stock to toil in daily chore,
purpose from purchase abundantly clear.

Yes, green and yellow fields are well maintained;
grains and fodder collected for winter,
not all animals purchased are sustained.
Instead the slaughter house is the winner.

But comes back Spring and the fields fill again;
this will be the way until farming ends.


Sonnet – War & Peace

Are you at peace, with the war between us;
How many more battles must we begin?
We fight a war neither of us can win
And while it would seem that this is obvious

Still instead of feelings we create fuss.
Yet I am drawn in, much to my chagrin
Long before I can take it on the chin
I say words, feeling as though I am just.

Those words come back to haunt me even now
Long after it has finally ended
There after I have made a solemn vow
To take time, until my heart is mended.

For loving just to be loved in return
Like playing with fire, it hurts when it burns.


Sonnet: This House

In this house in which I have never stayed
I am surrounded by my possessions
Each in their time my current obsessions
The focus I gave them I may have prayed

With the toys and objects with which I played
Imagination was my profession
The quelling of my lonely confession
The experience of which I am made.

I found my own company hard to keep
Little chance to discuss anything real
Began to repress, refusing to weep
Finding I have forgotten how to feel

And in this house I cannot be contained
Yet for a time, I know I must remain.


Sonnet – Tomorrow or Today

Life has a tendency to pass quickly
All too soon tomorrow becomes today
When we are young we wish our lives away
Until we become older and sickly

And when life has laid itself on thickly
The overwhelmed fall to their knees and pray
Looking to dispel where the clouds are grey
Their presence feels pervading and prickly

Zealous in later life we may become
To repeat that which has come before us
Indecision unaddressed leaves us numb
To the all consuming chaos and fuss

And that which passes is gone forever
Leaving memory; the final tether.


Sonnet – Leaving Youth

Do we outgrow youth or leave it behind
Forgetting all, but the most important
And of purpose remaining ignorant
Until returning to presence of mind

Age is a number which can often blind
The markers of others irrelevant
And emulation is mismanagement
Of time, which once lost you can never find

Is one an individual by choice
On a divergent path striding alone
So unused to the sound of their own voice
That when the time comes for heading home

A swift return offers little rejoice
No, this life is forever meant to roam.


Sonnet: Turn It Off, Then On Again

“Have you tried turning it off, then back on?”
“Aye son, gonnae help me fix ma TV?”
“Okay. Can you tell me what you can see?”
“A cannae see a ‘hing. The pictures goan.”

“Can you see the serial number shown?”
“Ye mean they daft scribbles? They’re far too wee.
Ah thought you said you were goin’ tae help me?”
“It’s harder to do sir over the phone.”

“No like ma auld yin, I’m telling ye that.”
“Wait, when exactly did your old TV break?”
“Last week, and this new wan’s too bloody flat.”
“Sir, I think I might have found the mistake…”

“Oh aye, and what might that be Sonny-Jim?”
“Can I please just check…have you plugged it in?”




To see this poem being read, check out my Youtube Channel by following the link:

A Sonnet: On the Hills

On the hills behind my home grows gold gorse,
Each patch like honey spilled upon the grass.
Crossing a creek with water clear like glass,
I climb ever onwards, set on my course.

Amongst nature I have little remorse.
Learning about life as though I’m in class,
I study in detail each life that I pass,
With thanks I stand nurtured by nature’s source.

Raw remnants remain, a lost lamb’s lost limb
Left lying, a sign of life and dying.
A mother sheep bleats, her grief growing grim.
And overhead a kestrel is flying

Taking no heed of this sorrow filled hymn.
The balance of nature edifying.


Sonnet: Remember Me

I see you sometimes walking in the street
It surprises me to see how you’ve grown
As you walk through life comfortably alone
I won’t lie, yes, it would have been sweet

If you recognised me if we did meet
But I accept my part and I have shown
All that I can, and all that I have known
And now you stand upon your own two feet

And this, is how things should always have been
I believe that if I did my job well
Then what I did for you, was done unseen
In such a way, that you will never tell

And though I remember my time with you
You forgot me, as soon as it was through.


Sonnet: Broken

I am many different kinds of broken.
Yet when seen through a screen, no-one believes
That behind my smile and big words is me
This tired person who is almost coping

Offered support is a friendly token
One with which, I am unsure I agree
For offers offer very little real reprieve
When you sleep through life and can’t be woken

For the help that truly must be given
By a willing bodied society
The basic rights, paired with provision
Are the ingredients to live life free

From duty, honour and obligation
Being put before self-preservation


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