Irene Anne Fraser

Scotland, United Kingdom

I have been an avid writer of poetry since 1993, after suffering a stroke from which I fully recovered. I find my work to be of a philosophical, or physiological nature, in it's entirety. I have penned approximately 900 pieces of prose, a few have been published, some in small press, others in for example, The National Library of Poetry, in which I received the Editor's Choice Award in 1995. A good review was complimentary from "Cosmopolitan Magazine." I peruse with great fervor along with my writing, and have accumulated an extensive music collection. My eventual aim is to have all these poems published collectively in a book. "Dostoevsky', 'Oscar Wilde', and 'Colin Wilson' influence me greatly. "I think all us poets and writers, see, hear, and think too much, which in itself isn't a bad thing."

Outsiders

Amid the dark forms of the street...he stood;
With his arms huddled,...stationed there,.. erect as wood;
He was clear to me, as in the arrival of spring;
In the usuality of me...had my psyche thinking;
Into why he was cool and cold,... pleading for no mercy;
The answer was apparent...maybe... I don't know only to me;
We required no burden of proof as why we could both identify;
That minus any oral exchange, I knew him and he knew I;
This collision was contrived, by a shared portent of premonition;
Partaking of each anothers heightened intuition of thinking;
He was astute into my awareness of this dire situation;
A dispossessed down-and-out, on the brink of his living;
I remained still yet all the while, I knew what he was doing;
As I envisioned his death... to peruse in the morning.

Reflecting Rhyme

Perhaps my ear is not attuned, to prose not penned in rhyme;
Personally preferable to balladry back in time;
When poetry meant each second sentence was aligned;
Absorbing each verse, and every line;
Perusing in between each separate work and deducing;
All that's been written and then concluding;
My own idiosyncratic view which may be peculiar;
And I'm probably no different from what you are;
As I may read many, and some may read mine;
Disagreements, we almost, always find;
So isn't it good we appreciate criticism and praise?;
As us 'Lyricists' never take value from face.

Subtly Severed

Subjectively sabatoged by the sapience of another one;
Alert to the adverse, detrimental destruction;
Oblivious to my observance of the ongoing replay;
With this one still musing on...the power to sway;
This connection was severed quite sometime ago;
When my cerebral apparatus sought the answer to know;
Never again will I be pressured into acceptance;
Therefore I'll let it ramble on, as in an audiotape;
Leaving one benighted to my long since previous escape.