BEFORE YOU READ: The poem you are to read is composedbyJim Khan, a renowned poet from England. It is inspired by the poetry of Robert Frost. You can purchase Mr Khan’s latest book of poetry by clicking on the cover image of the book underneath.The proceeds from the sales of the book will directly go to a UK Housing Charity.
Whose words are these I know I’ve heard? To read his marker seems absurd, He will not see me stopping by Nor holding back the need to cry.
But why does conscience feel distraught? Those pugilistic things he taught Are summarized within that stone, Beneath which lies his blood and bone.
I give my head a clearing shake Reminded of his gross mistake, No longer can he sermonize But only rot and fertilize.
His memory, a troubled brook, His death, my greatest piece of luck For freedom, mine to duly keep Yet still I fight the urge to weep.
Jim Khan is a father of five children and a recovering addict; both his finest accomplishments in life. He also feels uncomfortable writing about himself in the third person and has asked me (his conscience) to help out. Jim has a simple philosophy on life, and it involves nurturing both mind and spirit. The institutions of family and friendship mean more to him than his cynically one-sided relationship with God and it is in these fields that you'll find him chipping away like a moral ice-pick, trying to shape the obtuse into sculpted beauty. Literature has been a metaphorical life-preserver for Jim, giving him the mental buoyancy to float through a torrid life of living with both neuro-developmental disability and personality disorders. The gift of language and the tools of expression are something he cherishes dearly, eager to share his distorted creative perspective with others so they might see the glass may be dark yet far from opaque. From gothic tales of nightmarish denouement to Japanese form poetry Jim's appetite for creative expression is bigger than a banker's bonus (almost) and what is regurgitated makes for a deliciously sour second-hand meal of melancholia, metaphor, and the occasional gristly lump of reality-checked romance. When not writing poetry and prose, Jim continues to advocate voluntarily for the disadvantaged in a legal capacity and is working toward formal qualifications in the field of English Law. Jim lives in Nottingham, England with his long-suffering partner, his noisy and loving children and four unusually hyperactive dogs. To him, this is as close to heaven as a man can get without a death certificate.
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