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PLEASE CLICK HERE TO READ 'DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL' BY CYRUS ISSAC !
PLEASE CLICK HERE TO REVIEW 'COMPUTOID' BY CYRUS ISSAC !!
PLEASE CLICK HERE TO REVIEW 'ROOTLESS EXE' BY CYRUS ISSAC !!
PLEASE CLICK HERE TO REVIEW 'VISIONS OF THINGS TO COME' BY CYRUS ISSAC !!

Read Cyrus Issac’s new explosive poem ‘Hong Kong Reckoning’ in his new poetry collection ‘Visions of Things to Come’.

CLICK HERE TO READ!

PLEASE CLICK HERE TO REVIEW MY POETRY SCROLLS !!

Postal Services Available:

You can now order from Cyrus or his agency the following terrific services by post:

Kali-picture

The Age of Kali

What resides in this century but the horror?

Postcards most welcome!

Cyrus Issac is an avid Postcard collector and adores receiving postcards from around the world.

If you post a postcard to Cyrus Issac he shall personally thank you officially on this website.

For address details please:

CLICK HERE!

romeo1

Poetry Competition 2008!

Win £50! To enter please CLICK HERE!

 

Thanks for the Postcard!

Whilst surfing on the Internet, I happened to come across a very talented award winning Australian poet: Helen Hagemann.

Helen has kindly allowed me to list one of her poems ‘Broken Bay’.

If you would like to review her splendid website please click-on the following domain name: http://www.geocities.com/helen_hagemann/poetry.htm

‘Broken Bay’ conjures up vividly the poetic beauty of Australia. Feel the heat and enjoy !!!

Broken Bay

In the bay where shells suck and wheeze in the

spillage of tide, where jetties hollow a thump on boards,

and loud boys plunge off ferry pylons, where

line and metal slip into weed and silver bream,

and fishermen still race the southerly-buster home,

Lion Island looks down into the deep blue night.

It's a shruggable comfort, a green world of foothills,

dense trees, sandy shores, timber-decked cottages,

clinkers, skiffs and oyster sheds slippery with cats.

The old tide fortified the wild, ran with seasons

of plated fish. Soldier crabs rippled the shoreline in wavelengths of blue, like a tiny tin-pot army.

Molluscs grazed in algae pools, and pipis

nibbled bivalves into shoals.

In these burnt-sienna days of warm dunes,

towels and dripping togs, my home was holiday.

Back then my parents,

still in love,

left me to my wandering.

By Helen Hagemann

 

 

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Copyright (c) Cyrus Issac 2007 - All poetic work is the ownership and sole copyright of Cyrus Issac- No literary work maybe reproduced or copied without the written consent of Cyrus Issac.

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