The Living & The Dead
by Tom Harding
Read more and leave comments (4)
Thursday 31st March 2011 9:52 pm
Also by Tom Harding:
Afternoon Novena | Endless Talk of Floods |GHOST SQUAD.
by Philipos
in the skyline scheme of things
cranes swing laden crates on
weighted jibs – the building ribs
ascend in daily dribs and drabs
making inroads to a downward slope
over the recent months i’ve watched
the lower levels grow to
conglomeration size a network of
materials sunk in pylons through the
earth adjacent to the railway arch
finishers progress fixing aluminium
frame...
cranes swing laden crates on
weighted jibs – the building ribs
ascend in daily dribs and drabs
making inroads to a downward slope
over the recent months i’ve watched
the lower levels grow to
conglomeration size a network of
materials sunk in pylons through the
earth adjacent to the railway arch
finishers progress fixing aluminium
frame...
Read more and leave comments (0)
Thursday 31st March 2011 4:46 pm
Also by Philipos:
DUTY FREE. | FULL ASTERN. | SIGHT FOR SORE EYES. | IRELAND WITH BETJEMAN. | (untitled) | WHEN MAN HAS GONE. | JACOB’S LADDER. | SURREY CAMEOS. | MAL DE MER. | RELIQUARY. | WALKING WITH ANCESTORS. | RAIN ON PVC. | THE COLOURS. | WONDERING. | DOMPERIDONE. | PSALMS. | HUBBLE BUBBLE. | WEST WALTON. | HALF LIGHT. | JEHOVAH. | SOUTH EAST LONDON TRIO. | Seedy Side of Town. | Scent of a Maiden. | Friday Chill. | THE PARK BENCH. |Narci
“If I dyed my hair red,” She cooed,
“The sun would be jealous,
and dip her fingers into herself.”
He felt the swish of her hair
as she crouched to stroke the lake;
a smudge of strawberry on his cheek.
She grated the moon’s reflection with her hands
and sighed,
“see how pale my arm is in the night”
and bit her hands together like a dove.
&ldq...
“The sun would be jealous,
and dip her fingers into herself.”
He felt the swish of her hair
as she crouched to stroke the lake;
a smudge of strawberry on his cheek.
She grated the moon’s reflection with her hands
and sighed,
“see how pale my arm is in the night”
and bit her hands together like a dove.
&ldq...
Read more and leave comments (7)
Thursday 31st March 2011 2:40 pm
Also by Marianne Daniels:
The Burnt Bee | It felt like a long winter. | Merlot | Booklover | Cerebratorium |My life Story, innit
by Jules Clare
I went to the doctor’s this morning, what did she say…. That is a line from a famous song. So I told her my story. She was dazzled, innit.
I had a brain haemorrhage on 1.10 1995. I survived 13 days with blood easing into my cranial cavity (nice words). Went to my doctor, what did he say….. go to bed and take two aspirin. Had a fit three times…. Out came the paramedics...
I had a brain haemorrhage on 1.10 1995. I survived 13 days with blood easing into my cranial cavity (nice words). Went to my doctor, what did he say….. go to bed and take two aspirin. Had a fit three times…. Out came the paramedics...
Read more and leave comments (2)
Thursday 31st March 2011 10:45 am
Also by Jules Clare:
The Waddy | Peace and Reconciliation | Drugs and Alcohol | My Tow Law | Everything Green | Getting Blue | All Sorts | Hate Crime | Eager Beaver - The Book | News From Jules | Consultation | My Home Town | The Wedding | The Panic Room | Pleasance | For All To See | Yearning | Roots | Body Parts | Sunday Dinner | Strength | Total Desire | Respect | I Try | Miracles | Action | Geordie Bond | Geordie is Resting | First Lines of Love | Tales from the Countryside | You | Columbia and India | A Break | It's Over | Northumberland Sights | A Half | Hexham | The Sky | The Sky | Jules Global Tour 2011 | MIMI | Mind Crunching | Posthumous Bravery Award | The Big Day | Pot of Life | I am in Love | One Night | Her Latest Flame | Crying In The Chapel | Vintage Good Looks | Pests | The Life of Paper | Life | Fascist Groove Thing | Ripe Fruit | Rubbish | Racing | Lamplight Gig |The Colosseum
by Banksy
It’s Sunday morning, 10 am,
and I am only vaguely interested in reading the papers
and yet, I read them still,
ever hopeful of something more than the dross & drivel &
TV guide within.
This instant kwik-fix world of ours is media-filtered through a
thin dusty veil of mediocrity, sound bytes & news, news, news.
It’s all tits & tattoos, TV ratings & the Time Te...
and I am only vaguely interested in reading the papers
and yet, I read them still,
ever hopeful of something more than the dross & drivel &
TV guide within.
This instant kwik-fix world of ours is media-filtered through a
thin dusty veil of mediocrity, sound bytes & news, news, news.
It’s all tits & tattoos, TV ratings & the Time Te...
Read more and leave comments (8)
Wednesday 30th March 2011 10:18 pm
Also by Banksy:
a coffee in Omirou Street | it never rains | TWOC | is God a woman ? | words of the gods | whistling in the dark | God goes walkabout | putting the world to rights | the gathering | holding court | Nice Peter | god botherers | privates on parade | stand up | a little heavy water | the second coming |Laura's lullaby (song)
by Ian Devine
Goodnight, I love you
Sweet dreams, My Angel
I watch you, What are you thinking
Peaceful, Calm now
Drifting, Into dreamland
Goodnight, My Angel
Sweet dreams, I love you
Goodnight, I love you
Sweet dreams, My Angel
I watch you, You are sleeping...
Sweet dreams, My Angel
I watch you, What are you thinking
Peaceful, Calm now
Drifting, Into dreamland
Goodnight, My Angel
Sweet dreams, I love you
Goodnight, I love you
Sweet dreams, My Angel
I watch you, You are sleeping...
Read more and leave comments (1)
Wednesday 30th March 2011 9:42 pm
Also by Ian Devine:
Don't live in shadows cast | Lost in my Mind | Lost in my Mind. | Yesterday went on and on (song) | Constant True | Fools Paradise (song) by Dave Haze and Ian Devine | Its The Truth (song) | CHILDREN OF THE STARS | These Days (song) | She says He says | This Old Town | The Sun Melts Away (song) | The Devine Curse (song) | My Grey Eyes used to be Blue (song) | Never Fail Never Fall | Your better off with out me (song) | Fucking Cancer | My Life (A brush with evil) Part 2 | My life (AGood Start) Part 1 | Snmmer Side of Life | YOU BELIEVED THE HYPE | Travelling Man (song) |Mumbling thoughts
Mumbling thoughts
Subtle corruption
A social disease
Lifes disruption
Manipulating good qualities
Saints to sinners
Good to bad
Low lifes to winners
The sane become mad
That is the world today
Something no one can explain
An unknown force makes a play
In what is slowly turning into a catastrophic chain...
Subtle corruption
A social disease
Lifes disruption
Manipulating good qualities
Saints to sinners
Good to bad
Low lifes to winners
The sane become mad
That is the world today
Something no one can explain
An unknown force makes a play
In what is slowly turning into a catastrophic chain...
Read more and leave comments (0)
Wednesday 30th March 2011 8:00 pm
Question 17
by Greg Freeman
Question 17 on the census form “is left intentionally blank.”
Pull the other one: there was a question there once.
Do you surreptitiously pick your nose
when you think no one is looking?
Do you have trouble sleeping /
get up in the night at all hours,
worrying about things left undone,
or things you did, and shouldn’t have?
Are you happy in your job/ marriage/ relatio...
Pull the other one: there was a question there once.
Do you surreptitiously pick your nose
when you think no one is looking?
Do you have trouble sleeping /
get up in the night at all hours,
worrying about things left undone,
or things you did, and shouldn’t have?
Are you happy in your job/ marriage/ relatio...
Read more and leave comments (15)
Wednesday 30th March 2011 10:04 am
Tags: identity,Census,intrusion
Inward Reasons
`
On a hand-hewn pedestal
imagination coalesced;
on milk-white face alight
eyes sparkle with a liquid flame.
Some build ivory towers,
these hands raw from driven labour,
on scratched cheeks a stricken eye
ransoms a sculpted orphan dream.
Across time and Middle Sea
another calloused hand chiselled;
laughter on a pine-white face
resurrected an ailing heart.
Some can only ima...
On a hand-hewn pedestal
imagination coalesced;
on milk-white face alight
eyes sparkle with a liquid flame.
Some build ivory towers,
these hands raw from driven labour,
on scratched cheeks a stricken eye
ransoms a sculpted orphan dream.
Across time and Middle Sea
another calloused hand chiselled;
laughter on a pine-white face
resurrected an ailing heart.
Some can only ima...
Wednesday 30th March 2011 9:53 am
Tags: Geppetto,Galatea,Pinocchio,Pygmalion,art,artist,poet,poem,poetry
Also by Frederick Kesner:
Icarian Malady | Shadows in the light (Goodbye Grandma) | Oracle of the Drought | Callow Heart | Breakfast Epiphany | Scarlet on Blue |A man after my own heart
by Anna McCrory
An ‘I want U’ loveheart, I thought it was cute
at first, but now I have uncovered the truth
it wasn’t a gesture intended to be sweet
instead you just saw me as something to eat
I was totally wrong to think it impressive
that’s you’d offer take me shopping for dresses
to think I’d end up in Topshop was just plain silly
you meant to say dressings an...
at first, but now I have uncovered the truth
it wasn’t a gesture intended to be sweet
instead you just saw me as something to eat
I was totally wrong to think it impressive
that’s you’d offer take me shopping for dresses
to think I’d end up in Topshop was just plain silly
you meant to say dressings an...
Read more and leave comments (3)
Wednesday 30th March 2011 8:36 am
Learning To Read
by Gemma Lees
Learning To Read
Words abandoned me
When I were at Primary
Didn’t make sense no more
Like when me Dad and me
Made up stories
And created crazy characters
Like Fezzypeg
Who me Dad said were a cat
That owned a record shop
And talked and walked on his hind legs
And though I couldn’t always keep in mind
Everything I was told at other times
And I fell over
And I couldn&rsquo...
Words abandoned me
When I were at Primary
Didn’t make sense no more
Like when me Dad and me
Made up stories
And created crazy characters
Like Fezzypeg
Who me Dad said were a cat
That owned a record shop
And talked and walked on his hind legs
And though I couldn’t always keep in mind
Everything I was told at other times
And I fell over
And I couldn&rsquo...
Read more and leave comments (5)
Wednesday 30th March 2011 12:44 am
Also by Gemma Lees:
Learning To Read |Steak 'n' Blow-Job Day
by John Coopey
Get Flash to see this player.
(I don't often do political stuff)
I stood opposed to this in every way -
That’s Cameron’s threat to public holidays;
The essence of the Tory plan’s
To undermine the working man
And scrap one Labour first began
That’s in the month of May.
My views have changed though now, I have to say,
Once the explanation came my way;
The new alternative’s a boon...
I stood opposed to this in every way -
That’s Cameron’s threat to public holidays;
The essence of the Tory plan’s
To undermine the working man
And scrap one Labour first began
That’s in the month of May.
My views have changed though now, I have to say,
Once the explanation came my way;
The new alternative’s a boon...
Read more and leave comments (4)
Tuesday 29th March 2011 11:52 pm
Also by John Coopey:
Ken Dodd's Dad's Dog's Dead | I Dreamt You Were Little Again | The Wars of the Roses (Battle of Towton) | Mi Firstest Poems | Works of Art | Fix |And what will be then?
What will be tomorrow?
Tomorrow will be April.
Hearts will be struck by the love arrow,
They will not be stable.
So, what to do now?
Is it just natures caprice?
Allow your feelings be somehow avowed!
Don’t let your feelings to crease!
Look for the truth in the gentleness of spring!
Ding, ding! Listen to the bells ring!
Forget the troubles and sing!
A new song the spring will...
Tomorrow will be April.
Hearts will be struck by the love arrow,
They will not be stable.
So, what to do now?
Is it just natures caprice?
Allow your feelings be somehow avowed!
Don’t let your feelings to crease!
Look for the truth in the gentleness of spring!
Ding, ding! Listen to the bells ring!
Forget the troubles and sing!
A new song the spring will...
Read more and leave comments (1)
Tuesday 29th March 2011 10:12 pm
Tags: life,love
Also by Larisa Rzhepishevska:
SPRING | World Poetry Day | EVERY FRIDAY | Once Upon a Time In America | My Way | LIFE |Delivery
by Dave Carr
Oh look! here comes the postman
With letters in his hands.
I hope he's brought something for me -
More red elastic bands.
With letters in his hands.
I hope he's brought something for me -
More red elastic bands.
Read more and leave comments (3)
Tuesday 29th March 2011 10:00 pm
Also by Dave Carr:
Natasha |Anish and the Moon
There was a stone in the lake
And the moon in my hand
There was a stone in my hand
And the moon in the lake
I threw the stone and it became the moon
as it solidified in the water's space
Its mirror a world of twisting creatures,
all skin and fin; water bodies
I threw the moon and it became a stone
A pitted rough hewn chunk
as real as touch, its presence vacuous
The miracle is not...
And the moon in my hand
There was a stone in my hand
And the moon in the lake
I threw the stone and it became the moon
as it solidified in the water's space
Its mirror a world of twisting creatures,
all skin and fin; water bodies
I threw the moon and it became a stone
A pitted rough hewn chunk
as real as touch, its presence vacuous
The miracle is not...
Read more and leave comments (8)
Tuesday 29th March 2011 3:52 pm
Tags: Anish Kapoor,Moon,moon shadow.
Summer of Love
a flashback
sun splattering us in technicolour,
stained with light
cheekbones aching,
currents thrumming
migraine hue at the edges
hearts beat faster
minds and eyes pinpoint
to infinite acuity
heads swell with
chests strain from
and laugh
Steps slapping
rhyming
heads back and
smiling....
sun splattering us in technicolour,
stained with light
cheekbones aching,
currents thrumming
migraine hue at the edges
hearts beat faster
minds and eyes pinpoint
to infinite acuity
heads swell with
chests strain from
and laugh
Steps slapping
rhyming
heads back and
smiling....
Read more and leave comments (4)
Tuesday 29th March 2011 1:13 pm
Tags: summer,Drugs,love,light
The Uninvited
by Terry White
Where's your mask baby?
You've come out from behind
that tarnished glass,
and your dying inside,
with your matchbox ticky tacky relationship,
and you pretend you don't want to run and hide.
So you play here.
Between the pages of the love
you never had,
always wanted,
but never had.
And you put on your strongest faces
trying to push me away.
Because I scare...
You've come out from behind
that tarnished glass,
and your dying inside,
with your matchbox ticky tacky relationship,
and you pretend you don't want to run and hide.
So you play here.
Between the pages of the love
you never had,
always wanted,
but never had.
And you put on your strongest faces
trying to push me away.
Because I scare...
Read more and leave comments (1)
Tuesday 29th March 2011 2:43 am
Also by Terry White:
Untitled | Untitled | Summerset | A Single Night | Untitled | Alice | A Song for Breakfast | Ghost Writer |'New and invigorating ways to erode' - or 'the brain is impressively hard to control'
The brain is impressively hard to control
And I find that very comforting.
It is easy to worry about our masters
They only want the best for us.
So when I find that they are finding NeW aNd InViGoRaTiNg WaYs To ErOdE mE
I do not worry
I am unique
As it is me that allows them to do so
And unlike the lab rats and the fruit flies
We aren’t stuck in cages
We are free
To...
And I find that very comforting.
It is easy to worry about our masters
They only want the best for us.
So when I find that they are finding NeW aNd InViGoRaTiNg WaYs To ErOdE mE
I do not worry
I am unique
As it is me that allows them to do so
And unlike the lab rats and the fruit flies
We aren’t stuck in cages
We are free
To...
Read more and leave comments (7)
Tuesday 29th March 2011 1:34 am
Tags: abstract surreal
Tricky Mickey
by Jack Pascoe
Mickey is a geezer with suitcases galore
With the kind of stuff you find inside your nans utility draw
Like a pair of garden shears that ain’t been used in years
A slightly rusty door handle and cotton buds for your ears
He flogs them down the market to tourists and the like
He’s Mickey to his mates but to the fuzz he’s known as Mike
The corner is his office where he yell...
With the kind of stuff you find inside your nans utility draw
Like a pair of garden shears that ain’t been used in years
A slightly rusty door handle and cotton buds for your ears
He flogs them down the market to tourists and the like
He’s Mickey to his mates but to the fuzz he’s known as Mike
The corner is his office where he yell...
Read more and leave comments (2)
Monday 28th March 2011 10:22 pm
Also by Jack Pascoe:
She Left Her Mark | The Big Society |Up on the Roof (Strangeways)
by Andy N
By all accounts
It was little more than a protest.
By all accounts
It was little more than a protest
But all I saw was
The slates been
Tossed off the roof.
All I could hear was
Them crashing
Onto the floor
With a element of surprise
And the buzz of the guards
Who were running
Around below
Like headless bees.
All I could make out was
The occasional word...
It was little more than a protest.
By all accounts
It was little more than a protest
But all I saw was
The slates been
Tossed off the roof.
All I could hear was
Them crashing
Onto the floor
With a element of surprise
And the buzz of the guards
Who were running
Around below
Like headless bees.
All I could make out was
The occasional word...
Read more and leave comments (9)
Monday 28th March 2011 9:35 pm
Tags: Strangeways,Job Interviews
Also by Andy N:
Spring is Coming |Plum blossoms in snow
by Dave Morgan
Plum blossoms in snow
Like a character from a Murakami story
Mr Nagata looks into the embers of his dying fire
And remembers.
Mr Nagata surveys the familiar images
And pulling the sack around his shoulders
Takes another sip of Ballantynes.
There is the girl who he tries to forget
Her black hair bobbed
Her white neck polished.
Mr Nagata thinks of his daughter
And prays for her sa...
Like a character from a Murakami story
Mr Nagata looks into the embers of his dying fire
And remembers.
Mr Nagata surveys the familiar images
And pulling the sack around his shoulders
Takes another sip of Ballantynes.
There is the girl who he tries to forget
Her black hair bobbed
Her white neck polished.
Mr Nagata thinks of his daughter
And prays for her sa...
Read more and leave comments (10)
Monday 28th March 2011 9:27 pm
To, The Very Reverend Cloth Ears.
Good luck to you parishioners of Radcliffe,
The revs knows the ropes don’t you know,
If she puts it in mind that you’re fit enough,
She’ll give you some get up and go,
And you’ll wake from your wandering slumber,
And you’ll go off and do it with ease,
As you’ve had some gentle persuading,
That would have had God on his...
Good luck to you parishioners of Radcliffe,
The revs knows the ropes don’t you know,
If she puts it in mind that you’re fit enough,
She’ll give you some get up and go,
And you’ll wake from your wandering slumber,
And you’ll go off and do it with ease,
As you’ve had some gentle persuading,
That would have had God on his...
Read more and leave comments (2)
Monday 28th March 2011 9:24 pm
Also by Christine Makin:
(untitled) |Morton Arms Live- Guest Poet....Isobel!
Great poetry and acoustic music night- Tonight 8pm!
The Morton Arms pub- Pasture road- The Wirral
CH46 7TQ
Guest Poet
WOL and Wigan's finest- the Iridescent!
'Isobel'
Guest Musician the Soulful, the Sanguine, Liverpool's own
'Matt Reekie'
Open mic poetry -
A couple of first come first served musician slots too
Free Raffle- Free Sand...
The Morton Arms pub- Pasture road- The Wirral
CH46 7TQ
Guest Poet
WOL and Wigan's finest- the Iridescent!
'Isobel'
Guest Musician the Soulful, the Sanguine, Liverpool's own
'Matt Reekie'
Open mic poetry -
A couple of first come first served musician slots too
Free Raffle- Free Sand...
Read more and leave comments (3)
Monday 28th March 2011 6:01 pm
Tytonidae
Above the natural prescision of all below
patched in cloud broken differences of night
he floats,
occasionally dipping to catch
or alighting
to bathe in the unreeling moonlight.
Slightly wind ruffled
he surveys,with clockwork fashioned turns of the head
listens intensely
for scurrying disturbances
between the the humming wind
and stoney scattering music of stream waters,
Until an...
patched in cloud broken differences of night
he floats,
occasionally dipping to catch
or alighting
to bathe in the unreeling moonlight.
Slightly wind ruffled
he surveys,with clockwork fashioned turns of the head
listens intensely
for scurrying disturbances
between the the humming wind
and stoney scattering music of stream waters,
Until an...
Read more and leave comments (3)
Monday 28th March 2011 3:02 pm
Also by Patricia and Stefan Wilde:
Smashing dashing flashings(them woz the days!) | bitterness | Winston | Allied | looking for causes | Wader | Lamentation | dejection | my xanadu | another assumption | beyond contemplation | Serve and protect | Repetitions of innocence | what goes around | Child ghost | Bowing out | vacuous | Perplexity | exemplary | Matter of taste | Figment |one life
by Beulah
love is forever
so is life
one feeds the other
so is life
one feeds the other
Read more and leave comments (5)
Monday 28th March 2011 1:27 pm
Tags: friendship,life,love
Unemployment in Northern Ireland
I've written this about the rising unemployment in Northern Ireland and the severe consequences of it. This is what the future will look like if we don't do something about it:...
Read more and leave comments (0)
Monday 28th March 2011 10:16 am
Tags: unemployment,northern ireland,video,poetry,performance
The Student
Ten vodka bottles line her window ledge
at various stages of emptiness.
A report of some sort clings to each neck
measuring degrees of drunkenness.
She studies alone, these experiments
must be free from external influence.
Last night she finally drank to the dregs
and threw her conclusions up over the bed.
This morning she's doubting the evidence;
scientific research has gone to her h...
at various stages of emptiness.
A report of some sort clings to each neck
measuring degrees of drunkenness.
She studies alone, these experiments
must be free from external influence.
Last night she finally drank to the dregs
and threw her conclusions up over the bed.
This morning she's doubting the evidence;
scientific research has gone to her h...
Read more and leave comments (7)
Monday 28th March 2011 10:10 am
Be not afraid
I am not afraid
Though fear is
Here throughout
I am not afraid
Though my head
Is in the clouds
And my heart
Is on my sleeve
I am not afraid because
Even if she pulls the plug
Or if some calamity
Befalls us
I will know in my soul
That love is beautiful
And that our love
Is true...
Though fear is
Here throughout
I am not afraid
Though my head
Is in the clouds
And my heart
Is on my sleeve
I am not afraid because
Even if she pulls the plug
Or if some calamity
Befalls us
I will know in my soul
That love is beautiful
And that our love
Is true...
Read more and leave comments (1)
Monday 28th March 2011 1:54 am
Also by Rebel Birmingham:
12 Apostrophies: pt4 | 12 Apostrophies: pt3 | The Unnamed Child |Chaos magnet
by mike watts
You want to see angry?
I’ll show you angry
Try spending a day
In the life of me
Try fighting chaos constantly
And that clever twat mentality
Because common sense is history
They’re as thick as cattle
And I know I shouldn’t let them
But they rattle me
Irritating
They’re infuriating
They need rounding up
And strangulating
It’s crazy…
Crazy!...
I’ll show you angry
Try spending a day
In the life of me
Try fighting chaos constantly
And that clever twat mentality
Because common sense is history
They’re as thick as cattle
And I know I shouldn’t let them
But they rattle me
Irritating
They’re infuriating
They need rounding up
And strangulating
It’s crazy…
Crazy!...
Read more and leave comments (3)
Sunday 27th March 2011 8:59 pm
Also by mike watts:
Losing it. | Emergency case | Going quietly |when that daylight hit us again (inspired by Gareth Writer-Davies' Junk poem)
by David Mac
them rattling dirty hours
when
night melted away
and
the sun boiled up
and we were
there
inside
ripped
torn
straight off the
bone
them days were
hard
but essential
deadly but
so on fire
them days were
slow and
vicious
new and
easy
we were doing something
inevitable
reaching out from
our mad youth
and we might not have
made it
we might not have
escaped
as t...
when
night melted away
and
the sun boiled up
and we were
there
inside
ripped
torn
straight off the
bone
them days were
hard
but essential
deadly but
so on fire
them days were
slow and
vicious
new and
easy
we were doing something
inevitable
reaching out from
our mad youth
and we might not have
made it
we might not have
escaped
as t...
Read more and leave comments (3)
Sunday 27th March 2011 11:22 am
Also by David Mac:
The End of my Soul on Saturday Nights | After All The Fucking Shit Has Already Fucking Hit You | Buy Me Books, Buy Me Books | For You, Babe | The Night Mare | Why Do You Want This Job? | Our Poems | Someone’s always trying to take over the world | Life Bores Us All To Death |No Jobs For A Man
by Dave Dunn
I was the seventh child in a family of four,
the second born, do I need to say more?
Well perhaps I should fill in a few gaps,
or you could remain confused perhaps...
Yes I was the second boy born to my mother,
five girls came before me I did discover,
four boys in all were to follow my dad,
down to the dole queue, no jobs to be had.
No Jobs For...
the second born, do I need to say more?
Well perhaps I should fill in a few gaps,
or you could remain confused perhaps...
Yes I was the second boy born to my mother,
five girls came before me I did discover,
four boys in all were to follow my dad,
down to the dole queue, no jobs to be had.
No Jobs For...
Read more and leave comments (4)
Sunday 27th March 2011 2:03 am
Tags: Poverty
Also by Dave Dunn:
Stars Would Gladly Cast Their Gleam | The MortalShore | I Miss You |foxheart
by Ann Foxglove
Fox curls round
a rosequartz heart
in my garden.
Above her head
a rose is planted,
two dusky poppies
fresh from their pots.
Soon, around her heart
they will entwine
their roots.
In summer
we’ll remember her....
a rosequartz heart
in my garden.
Above her head
a rose is planted,
two dusky poppies
fresh from their pots.
Soon, around her heart
they will entwine
their roots.
In summer
we’ll remember her....
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Saturday 26th March 2011 8:51 am
Also by Ann Foxglove:
warningwolverine | on waking | museum diary part 2 | kingfisher stripe | little dog digging | rabbit | total immersion | angels in ealing |A selection of words
by Martin Miles
These are my most recent poems. They don't feel as good as some of the stuff I wrote about a year ago but thought I would share on here to see what people think. I'll post my older stuff at some point as well.
I guess these are inspired by the pressures of life and the expectation to be successful. And not forgetting love. And how it is absent. Enjoy.
Oh WELL, OH well, At least you a...
I guess these are inspired by the pressures of life and the expectation to be successful. And not forgetting love. And how it is absent. Enjoy.
Oh WELL, OH well, At least you a...
Read more and leave comments (0)
Friday 25th March 2011 8:32 pm
Also by Martin Miles:
Trembling Hands |How Can god Be When Spring Rains
by Kealan Coady
Clamour of light
Aborted logic
From the severed objective
Plume of confusion
They call saviour.
I have read the book.
That standard manual
From which they hold it all
And I became bleach eyed
By it's discrepency.
There is nothing to say
But therefore.
And all our papered thoughts
Creased in the fold
Of their following.
So as the seasons
Break, bust, fall stuttered
I plac...
Aborted logic
From the severed objective
Plume of confusion
They call saviour.
I have read the book.
That standard manual
From which they hold it all
And I became bleach eyed
By it's discrepency.
There is nothing to say
But therefore.
And all our papered thoughts
Creased in the fold
Of their following.
So as the seasons
Break, bust, fall stuttered
I plac...
Read more and leave comments (6)
Friday 25th March 2011 12:50 pm
Also by Kealan Coady:
Health | Natural Disasters And Nuclear Foreplay | Interview. | Existentialullaby |Old Alfie
OLD ALFIE
Poor old Alfie,
Was so un'ealthy,
'e never watched 'is 'ealth,
'e buys dog food,
For 'is doggy,
But 'e eats it all 'imself.
So 'is doggy,
'e gets 'ungry,
'an 'e eats Alfie's bed,
Now when Alfie,
Gets un'ealthy,
'e got nowhere to lay 'is 'ead.
(c)Ledger de la Bald...
Poor old Alfie,
Was so un'ealthy,
'e never watched 'is 'ealth,
'e buys dog food,
For 'is doggy,
But 'e eats it all 'imself.
So 'is doggy,
'e gets 'ungry,
'an 'e eats Alfie's bed,
Now when Alfie,
Gets un'ealthy,
'e got nowhere to lay 'is 'ead.
(c)Ledger de la Bald...
Read more and leave comments (3)
Friday 25th March 2011 9:29 am
Routine is death; Death is routine
by Dave Bradley
Leave home eight fifty five arrive nine twenty six
Leave home eight fifty six arrive nine twenty seven
Leave home eight fifty seven arrive nine twenty eight
Leave home eight fifty eight arrive nine twenty nine
Leave home eight fifty nine arrive nine thirty
Leave home nine o'clock die in head-on smash
Leave home one minute past nine arrive ten thirty two
Delayed by that crash
The poli...
Leave home eight fifty six arrive nine twenty seven
Leave home eight fifty seven arrive nine twenty eight
Leave home eight fifty eight arrive nine twenty nine
Leave home eight fifty nine arrive nine thirty
Leave home nine o'clock die in head-on smash
Leave home one minute past nine arrive ten thirty two
Delayed by that crash
The poli...
Read more and leave comments (4)
Wednesday 23rd March 2011 10:06 pm
Also by Dave Bradley:
Our secrets | No point; point | Sausages | The Poem |Abstract Notions
There is an itch in these veins.
Blood once flowed to seek fairer lands.
Existence was not enough to tame us.
At edges of cliff tops, towards riverbeds we yearned,
reaching out towards Lincoln green pastures.
Were once we painted with primary colours.
Barefooted, engulfing dissected oxygen,
We mix strife and strain with acid rain.
No freedom in mindscapes, abstract notions falling....
Blood once flowed to seek fairer lands.
Existence was not enough to tame us.
At edges of cliff tops, towards riverbeds we yearned,
reaching out towards Lincoln green pastures.
Were once we painted with primary colours.
Barefooted, engulfing dissected oxygen,
We mix strife and strain with acid rain.
No freedom in mindscapes, abstract notions falling....
Read more and leave comments (4)
Wednesday 23rd March 2011 9:58 pm
Litany of Lovers
The first boy I kissed was a kind and courteous youth
With a motorbike and leather jacket he came across so smooth.
Our chaste late teenage romance seemed to feel like love
Til I left for study and he found someone else.
The second third and fourth have vanished without trace,
No memory remains; not a name nor a face.
The lips of this young lady always willingly upturned
Like a fledgling sp...
With a motorbike and leather jacket he came across so smooth.
Our chaste late teenage romance seemed to feel like love
Til I left for study and he found someone else.
The second third and fourth have vanished without trace,
No memory remains; not a name nor a face.
The lips of this young lady always willingly upturned
Like a fledgling sp...
Read more and leave comments (0)
Wednesday 23rd March 2011 2:13 pm
Home
The bed blankets greet me soon after I'm back,
The sweet-spicy smell of chai tea is coming from the kitchen,
The carpet cushions my footsteps when I awaken
To go into the sitting room
I nearly never attempted to fathom,
How some so despise being in one place,
A call: "Collect your thoughts and valuables,
And leave them in sight of only you."
A perfect place for anyone to...
The sweet-spicy smell of chai tea is coming from the kitchen,
The carpet cushions my footsteps when I awaken
To go into the sitting room
I nearly never attempted to fathom,
How some so despise being in one place,
A call: "Collect your thoughts and valuables,
And leave them in sight of only you."
A perfect place for anyone to...
Read more and leave comments (2)
Wednesday 23rd March 2011 9:15 am
Wild in the Wind (for PLC)
by Amy Ismay
Just once
walking westward along the prom,
arms outstretched to pull the flow of the tide;
the car abandoned in a disabled bay,
headlights facing the sea head-on;
you - hair and coat wild in the wind,
laughing your truth out into the breeze;
laughing truth up to soar with the gulls;
breathing it back in,
grains of sand and salty air;
cars passing by both ways,
both ways heading far from...
walking westward along the prom,
arms outstretched to pull the flow of the tide;
the car abandoned in a disabled bay,
headlights facing the sea head-on;
you - hair and coat wild in the wind,
laughing your truth out into the breeze;
laughing truth up to soar with the gulls;
breathing it back in,
grains of sand and salty air;
cars passing by both ways,
both ways heading far from...
Read more and leave comments (7)
Tuesday 22nd March 2011 7:16 pm
Also by Amy Ismay:
Bombed to Shore |Face to Face
My cheeks hang uncomfortably, side by side,
the uninvited guests who didn’t ring ahead
and now stand on the doorstep
with teetering embarrassment.
Under his impassive, gentle patient stare.
I gently grate my teeth,
the bottom lip pushed right up tight,
to a winsome grimace, my father’s face
with crooked lines of cobblers’ tacks, dangling there.
Am I unwittingly becoming...
the uninvited guests who didn’t ring ahead
and now stand on the doorstep
with teetering embarrassment.
Under his impassive, gentle patient stare.
I gently grate my teeth,
the bottom lip pushed right up tight,
to a winsome grimace, my father’s face
with crooked lines of cobblers’ tacks, dangling there.
Am I unwittingly becoming...
Read more and leave comments (8)
Tuesday 22nd March 2011 3:57 pm
Also by Graham Sherwood:
Harbour Wave |My book Air of Fall
Have a look at my book and any feedback appreciated , had a problem with the link but if you go to www.lulu.com and search air of fall will see it immediately
Read more and leave comments (4)
Monday 21st March 2011 6:43 am
Tags: relationships,life,love,poetry
Criminally Fragile
by AJ McKenna
She writes down all the answers but she doesn’t raise her hand.
She bites her lip to keep her mouth from moving.
She never stays behind to ask a question after class:
she comes and goes and sits there, just achieving,
pushing up the school’s league table ranking,
never acting out or showing signs of EBD.
Her Belsen ribs, her jutting hipbones, are the things you’ll never s...
She bites her lip to keep her mouth from moving.
She never stays behind to ask a question after class:
she comes and goes and sits there, just achieving,
pushing up the school’s league table ranking,
never acting out or showing signs of EBD.
Her Belsen ribs, her jutting hipbones, are the things you’ll never s...
Read more and leave comments (4)
Sunday 20th March 2011 10:47 pm
FLOUNDERING
FLOUNDERING
Unabating
memories
scathing
if they could fade
disappear
into deep twilight's shade
I'd find rest and relief
yet my waiting's in vain
skies are moving
clouds
gathering
grey
overwhelming
constantly hovering
they catch my eye
they leave me floundering...
Unabating
memories
scathing
if they could fade
disappear
into deep twilight's shade
I'd find rest and relief
yet my waiting's in vain
skies are moving
clouds
gathering
grey
overwhelming
constantly hovering
they catch my eye
they leave me floundering...
Read more and leave comments (4)
Sunday 20th March 2011 3:05 pm
Tags: clouds dark emotions waiting floundering twilight
Also by John Darby (aka John boy):
BY THE LIGHT OF THE LOCAL SPAR |alpha et omega
smoke signals
The coffee pot’s down
to grounds and dregs,
the cognac bottle’s
now the worse for wear.
He counts each crossing of the legs
each slow blink,
approving laugh;
tests the warmth of every smile,
notes each surreptitious lick of lip;
decodes the semaphore
of each flick of hair.
She feels the hours grow smaller,
sees the pacing wolf behind his eyes,
mirrors e...
The coffee pot’s down
to grounds and dregs,
the cognac bottle’s
now the worse for wear.
He counts each crossing of the legs
each slow blink,
approving laugh;
tests the warmth of every smile,
notes each surreptitious lick of lip;
decodes the semaphore
of each flick of hair.
She feels the hours grow smaller,
sees the pacing wolf behind his eyes,
mirrors e...
Read more and leave comments (10)
Sunday 20th March 2011 2:51 pm
Riverboat
When every movement shakes your bones
Rattles you
Pulls bruises to your skin. You are a riverboat; sailing along a turbulent sea. The first thing you notice when you reach land is not the
beauty of the streets. Not the structured, calculated roads and buildings. Safety in numbers. You notice with sad eyes, sad eyes that move so fast, unable to take in everything, unable to blink, every man ma...
Rattles you
Pulls bruises to your skin. You are a riverboat; sailing along a turbulent sea. The first thing you notice when you reach land is not the
beauty of the streets. Not the structured, calculated roads and buildings. Safety in numbers. You notice with sad eyes, sad eyes that move so fast, unable to take in everything, unable to blink, every man ma...
Read more and leave comments (0)
Sunday 20th March 2011 10:58 am
Also by Claire Alexandra:
WHEN |Just Being Real
by Paulyn Lloyd
I can say I love you, I won’t ever hurt you.
We will never grow apart, fall apart, I’ll never break your heart.
I can tell you I will give you the world and more.
I can sing your praises till my throat gets sore.
I can say everyday will be better than the one before.
I can make you believe I will never walk out the door.
I can talk a load of crap if that’s what you want m...
We will never grow apart, fall apart, I’ll never break your heart.
I can tell you I will give you the world and more.
I can sing your praises till my throat gets sore.
I can say everyday will be better than the one before.
I can make you believe I will never walk out the door.
I can talk a load of crap if that’s what you want m...
Read more and leave comments (0)
Saturday 19th March 2011 7:09 pm
Tags: Love,real,true,Paulyn Lloyd,bullshit
Also by Paulyn Lloyd:
Bitch |Cruel Dream
I could feel the pain
tearing through the fabric
of my body.
Red waves of tears crashed
upon the floor.
I screamed,
and my scream responded.
And life was placed within my arms.
Future shined in brilliant eyes,
and love held my heart.
But as fast as I could
breathe,
my baby was taken away.
Where I was in life,
I could not survive
nor care for another
without drowning...
tearing through the fabric
of my body.
Red waves of tears crashed
upon the floor.
I screamed,
and my scream responded.
And life was placed within my arms.
Future shined in brilliant eyes,
and love held my heart.
But as fast as I could
breathe,
my baby was taken away.
Where I was in life,
I could not survive
nor care for another
without drowning...
Read more and leave comments (2)
Friday 18th March 2011 10:40 pm
Twisting Knives
Shards of jagged memory slice
sharp through foraging fingers
finding discarded pieces of pain
between the forgotten relics of kinder times.
Points pierce a blistered mind,
removing the splinters is agony;
the pull of each barb merciless in its wounding.
Digging deeper, the truculent fractures imply
rupture at further delving.
Blood drips onto gray striations
slides slick over senses; a r...
sharp through foraging fingers
finding discarded pieces of pain
between the forgotten relics of kinder times.
Points pierce a blistered mind,
removing the splinters is agony;
the pull of each barb merciless in its wounding.
Digging deeper, the truculent fractures imply
rupture at further delving.
Blood drips onto gray striations
slides slick over senses; a r...
Read more and leave comments (7)
Friday 18th March 2011 7:55 pm
Also by Petrova C Fairhurst:
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