Man For His Age – a poem



Care-worn he leads

his guilt free life,

turns fears

into a bar-room joke –


he never fails

though sometimes falls

a victim to

“the changing times”.


Suburban heroes never weep,

they share with celluloid

an inability to bleed.


He veils his sorrows in

a sentimental song

and never sins –


his standards are complete

and up to date.


A true son

of a dying race.





      Malcolm Evison

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ADAM & EVE – two poems

ADAM revised imageeve

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Just stumbled across this in my poetry archive! I think it dates back to the 1970’s.



The pain of not to know
a words true meaning –
(a heartfelt paradox
so tautologically entwined)

brain travels inscapes
of the mind

the universe declaims
I AM – the exocentric
altar. Delving
through layers of time

exploring a fresh terrain –
we dream of worlds
where words were not yet

known. We fail to understand.
Seeking our solace
in links with primal man –
we feel the air vibrate

with all our fears,
and through the storm
we hear the voice that tears
at our discretion.

All is, and nought eludes
our sense, each particle
is new, and each the wholeness.

Then vision fades.

Unable to untie
our deepest fears,
from realms of theory,

we seek salvation
in vacuity –

unable to unite
the reasons for this life
with joy in living

we yearn for sunlight
to dissipate the gloom –
at each encounter
ache for renewed creation.

The phase explodes –

gone is all sense
and reason yields
to circumstance.
Our reminiscence magnifies
the mis-spent days –
heroic sacrifice
now reeks of self-abuse.

Our word-linked knowledge
looks to primal man –

speaking of worlds
where words were not yet known –

no matter how we squirm
we fail to understand

that words
are still the master
of the man.

Malcolm Evison

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dis-ease is everywhere – illustrated poem

this poem is straight off the press – one of those rare occasions when the words gave themselves in a relatively short space of time. Expressing my current state of discomfort and dis-ease in some ways enables me to cope better with this frustrating ailment (moderate ME – myalgic encephalomyelitis)


dis-ease is everywhere ii

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I see the lavender – illustrated poem

i see the lavender

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Going Home – a poem

As yesterday was Mothering Sunday I felt it appropriate to share this poem of mine from 2004 



(For Anne 17 May 2004)

Life ebbs and wheezes –
we look
for signs of grace.

She slides
into the arms of love
and finds her peace.

We simply hear the space
she left behind. We smile
knowing this cannot be
the time for tears.

Her rest is welcome
as our spirits rise
to share in this release.

The process of decay
has ceased
to prey upon her mind –

She glides
into the arms of sleep.

Malcolm Evison
(Written for my mother)
19 May 2004

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Night Shifts


Aimlessly walking through
the quiet town, an echo
painlessly affirms belonging.

Night falls;
the day disintegrates –
all reference fails.

I cannot wrap this world
in meaning. Slowly it burns
out the old images, the worn

words, the soiled. This is
the turning point; the nights
calm trodden underfoot.

Hold out your hands;
capture a fragment
of the neon-splintered

sky. A window brightly
shouts its wares.

into darkness
and reveals
its own banality.

Malcolm Evison 

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