Professor Dr. Stanley Collymore Poems

The art of wooing is virtually dead and, instead,
what now passes for courting is nothing more than the
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Someone once asked me, in that questing but
decidedly informal manner employed when
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It’s not love of but simply lust for me that you’re solely
concerned with, and even though with some difficulty
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Having you daily in my thoughts
Is a preoccupation that takes
Up much of my time,
But then it’s also
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The Cardinals have spoken, their voices giving election
to a new Pope on whose shoulders the responsibility:
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Hey! What are you saving yourself for; until the
right man comes along? And who says he will,
or that if he does you won’t by then be a bitter
and frustrated old maid wishing that you’d
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I must be in love, for after you’d gone I found myself
reaching out and cuddling the pillow that previously
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Thoughts of you are the unvarying inspiration
that keeps me going when you’re away from
me. The lighthouse in my mind, whose
comforting and familiar presence guides
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I deliberately put my deepest and most sensitive
feelings on hold, convinced that in this downright
selfish and quite arrogant world of mediocrity
where everything has a price tag stuck on it
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You talk often enough about truth,
freedom and the execution of justice
but your words are both meaningless
and cheap, as there’s no substance,
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