Seven Hills

I don’t recall what made us laugh like giants.
Two days into the trip,
liberty from partners to convince
that a drink in the morning is fine,
loosened us like infants.
We hooted into our glasses,
revelled in the echo
as children in a cave.
On the bridge
a scamp relieved you of your cards and wallet.
Your appreciation of the child thief’s skill defined you.
We shared beer...

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Also by John Darwin:

Sisters |

New Poetry Collection

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I have just released my third collection of poetry entitled "From A to Believe"

It can only be purchased via Lulu at the moment but will become available through Amazon and Barnes & Noble over the next few weeks

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Tags: collection,poetry,printed,published

Austerity measures? what austerity measures?

Far from debonaire.

His dress sense?

non existent!

between beggarly

and complete shit order.


His abode?

a place even a homeless drunk

no matter how pissed

would be likely

to turn his strawberry'd nose up at it!


To expect him

to stroll among the gentry

and raise his shit stained tattered cap

to one and all? forget it-bigtime!

the very thought w...

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Also by Patricia and Stefan Wilde:

Allied | Waltz macabre | End flight | precursor to a violent future? | After the worrying stopped | Daddy BASTARD! BASTARD! | Dark poetess | flight | what goes around | blind dog | Insatiable earth | sorry Dad,but it's about you again! | A somewhere | There's a hole in my time net! | Gods mistake | Vertically communicating | Digging Dad | 'H' | Closure |

Delamere Forest

I came to a clearing

Of cinnamon sticks

Holding hands

In a row of kindling

They gave me a bow

And I too was fixed

A part of the crowd

A spindling

I felt like a flea

Amongst the hair shafts

Creating a weave

A tingling

On the dogs led to roam

Through the cinnamon sticks

Holding hands with my heart

Souls singing

The light dappled in

On the shadows it...

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Also by Natfastic:

All Shook Up | Red Wine Devine | The Scalded Soldiers | Migration | Weathering Heights | If Pain Had No Beauty | Pickles and Porkpie | Dole Queue Blues | Darling - Please Don't Call Me 'Dear' | Traffic Jam | Ethereal | Let Me Out, Let Me In | I See You | Who am I? | God Knows I Try | Hedging Bets | Recurring Nightmare | Rain Dancers | The Customer's Always Right | Two Trees Bending | Unravelling |


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This is the closing (21st) poem on my new CD of verse with music settings: "POETRY TO PLEASE".


There's this to say for getting old,

You take more care against the cold

And value each new day.


And this to say for getting old:

You want to keep and not to scold

The children at their play.


And this to say for get...

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Also by M.C. Newberry:


Maleficent Religious Condescension: Geek Morals

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Press Enter,

      Begin listening to the drum rhythmic crescendo line of our apocalypse, Vane screaming black scale deforested back notes trapped in white discord labelled grey measures of inhumane depravity, Gestating on the pulses of sandcastle universe' origin sonnet architects vacantly pleading grace's atonement to the angels whose broken green over obsidian mythical text zeroes now a...

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Also by Juton, Villain of Truth:

Her... III | Fire Fly Eclipse | Malefic Condescension: Grace of Hell I | Hive Mind: Fake Pleading(s) | Malefic Condescension: Fallen Witness Screams II | Malefic Condescension: Fallen Witness Screams | All Will be Lost... | Malefic Condescension: Tearing Down Heaven VIII | (a)lone (dis)quiet (connect)ions Remix | Malefic Condescension: The Napalm Cross(ed) Heart I | Malefic Condescension: Tearing Down Heaven VI | Hive Minded L VIII: Children of Reincarnated Slavery I | The Accords of Self I | Monitored Memories II | Malefic Condescension: Disavowed Homeless Dust II | Malefic Condescension: Tearing Down Heaven V |

Lonely cottage night



A muchness

of inebriation

incites the singing

of a song from her childhood.


Relating to the sentimental lyrics

proves too much.

Voice becomes strained

she discontinues.


From the witch fingered flames

of the fire

is withdrawn

the pokers heat eaten

glowing end

to light a cigarette.


In the dust blanketed corner

the never com...

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Also by Solar:

Ale house parishioner | waffle merchant | Female mingers | comparisons | Midnight adulterer's | Centre of attraction | escapee | pit stops | In a plea to the Sun | symptom | Conjurings | Dildo's puppet |

window dreaming

glaring stiff

out the window

away from the raincoats


dangling my legs over 

contemplating jumping

but no one wants to see

my dress above my knees

lightning never 

struck me down-

pretty good at that


not enough rods 

to feel safe

from this morbid persona

humiliate and mutate me

human words are all the same

existing in forms


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Also by Pity-Poetry :

pink clouds not from a dream | lipstick sick | a cinematic beauty | gear shift lady in black | not clean enough for the cleanly | here's to not looking at you | selling ourselves | ate my heart | from the other side of the garage door | what the grass couldn't do for me | shit for a penny |


I’ve been better; I’ve been worse.
I’ve been nursed; I’ve been the nurse.
I’ve been voluble, and terse.

I’ve been good and I’ve been bad.
I’ve been sanguine; I’ve been mad.
I’ve been crafty; I’ve been had.

I’ve been right and I’ve been wrong;
I’ve had plaudits, and the gong.
I’ve let rip, and held my tongue.

I’ve borne grief; and sewn distress.

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Also by Travis Brow:



Pale blue eyes,

pastel blank face,

bloodless body,

dead cold feet.


Peering into sky,

stares back, the black outer space,

no twinkling stars,

nor the bright moon,

powercut in the sky.


A sudden lightning strike,

eyes swell with tears,

the clouds start weeping,

heart to burst open,

thunderous sound deafens the ears.


Wonder how mother nature ...

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Thor (He's A Jolly Good Fellow)

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Thor (He's A Jolly Good Fellow)

Another bloody immigrant
has just moved in next door -
he’s North East European
and goes by the name of Thor.
So as good old Mister Farage says
“There ought to be a law
that stops them coming here
cause we can’t take any more”.

He’s got long blonde tussled hair
and a chiselled square jaw
and he’s taking British jobs
at the local Ikea stor...

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Tags: immigration,jealousy,satire,sex,thor,thunder god

Also by Ian Whiteley:

Remember Scarborough! | Canary Girl (Chilwell, July 1st 1918) | White Feather | Blood Moon | Craiglockhart (Not Yet Diagnosed Nervous) |

A Lover's Touch

Fingers dance in darkness

Tapping a sensuous rhythm

On her spine

Each step seeking

Virgin skin



Bones tingling

Collar to hip

She anticipates each move

Chess like tactics

Keep her senses high.


Strong hands

Caressing the small

Of her back

Guiding her to

Peaceful slumber


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Also by Helen Elliott:

MH17 | To Love In The Summer Rain | Ode To Eva | A Letter To Mother | Creatives Collide | Rainbow |

My Stranger, My Saviour, My Friend

Alone in this room as the paper falls from the walls,

i shout, i scream but not a soul hears my call,

won't someone come save me, no-one at all??,

Bound by disillusion and fear, my body goes numb,

stomping of feet stops at the door, has someone really come??,

i'm begging, i'm praying, i'm hoping for dad or mum,

will i ever see my family again, will i ever return??.

Right there...

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Also by Tj Steele:

Last Moments | Zero to Hero |


Oh wonderous River Avon

Gurgling gently and so free

Dissecting Bradford-upon-Avon

On through Wiltshire to the sea

See the lanterns, hear the children

Watch their parents smile with glee

Once the festival has started

Please do not look for me

I'll be in the —anal Tavern

Hoping they've replaced the 'C'!



There is less than a week to go if you want to enter...

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Tags: competitions,festival,Satire

Also by Daniel Dwyran:


July Sunshine

While you
your kitchen
on Sunday morning
an old woman
knocked at your

She'd moved
here yesterday,
and had made
you a pie
of apple and

To say hello.
To calm her from
loneliness and fear.

But you
missed her.

Your powerful
Headphones played
'Jumpin' Jack Flash'
by the Stones.

Your crystal,
pipe and oblivion
left her walkin...

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Begging for the Inevitable

I spent countless summer nights blowing dandelion fuzz,

Wishing for you to come home to me,

On fallen eyelashes,

And antique clocks that read 11:11.

I think it’s really a very sad thing when someone loses faith in wishes coming true,

But it happens all the time, and it’s so tragic.

So I started wishing for life to look up,

And the ability to see the beauty in everyone and ...

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Also by Felicity:

I wrote about you | Far away, she wept | Her |


Bugles blew

Bagpipes skirled

Banners raised

Flags unfurled


Bullets flew

Gases swirled

Cannons blazed

Senses whirled


Trenches dug, and filled

With wide-eyed innocents

Who’d ventured onto foreign soil

As volunteered participants;

And Officers and NCO's,

Blindly bellowing commands

To take a hill or hold the line.

And souls were lost in foreig...

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Swept away by these waves of confusion,

Iam now stranded in the island of chaos.

Just yesterday I was dreamily looking into the horizon;

Peacefully sailing in my boat of bliss.

I didn't see that big wave coming,

I didn't hear the roar of thunder,

I couldn't smell the storm.


And now Iam all alone in this strange wilderness;

I see no light,I can...

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Tags: hope,life,lost

I leant against the wall

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She lay tangled In my bed-clothes.

I watched trapezoids of summer light

make motes alive to the warmth. 

I leant against the wall and

watched her breathing,

pale and shallow her rising breasts,

her hair webbed with sleep and

gripped to her belly my gown 

since last I bathed. 

I lowered my case-

and loved her more.


re-edit and foto T Carroll

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Also by Tommy Carroll:

The Astronomer and her lover | The Astronomer and her star-gazer. | Tour de France The Grand Depart |

22-7-14 11pm.

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I gave you the pearls in bed
and you counted them all one by one
thread breaking sending them curving
across your skin beneath the cotton sheet
between your thighs.
And again one by one like prisoners
rounded up from the cold forest I
escort them back threatening each
with solitude should their careless display
have confused my gift with threat
of shallow desire.




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An Apathetic State of Being

An Apathetic State of Being



We’re all here,

Complaining of life love

The Gaza Strip and Syria,

But we’re not compelled to

React the way some

Still have the balls to express,

And I guess,

It’s not for want

Of compassion,

It’s just that,

We’re tired,

We’re not the makings

Of epic feelings or

Playing to the gallery

On any particular...

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Also by Noetic-fret!:

Beyond the Realms of Murder |

Grumpy morning


Grumpy Monday Morning

I sit by the bed can´t make up my mind lie down or get up.

I used to have a dog it woke me up early I had to take it out

first thing and when it came back it checked every room.

My house has eight rooms each floor is on different level,

 in the old days when I held parties friends, full of wine, used

to break legs, the ambulance crew knew my address.


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Also by jan oskar hansen :

(untitled) | wonder drug | Yearning | Morning has Broken | Treasure Hunter | children of war | tears of shame | This Parrot | the parrot | Behind mount sinai | corrosion | Utopia | contemplation | culture | flower pots | an echo from the sea |

Poetry Comes From the Heart

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Poetry comes from the heart and soul.

Whether it be serious or comic,

a short poem can speak volumes.

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Tags: heart,Poetry,speak,volumes

Also by Shirley Smothers:

Good Bye My Old Friend |

BLOG --- Its been a while... since my last confession!

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Bless me Father, for I have sinned...
Its been a hell of a long time since my last confession here!

As always with blog posts, it bes a while between them. I call them my "confessions" as it normally sums up what I have been doing in the while before them.

So, for the past year, we have had a number of poetry readings in Tullamore and thereabouts with theTullamore Rhymers Club that I am part of, a...

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Tags: Blog,conflice,Ireland,writers ethcis

The Greatest Flame

You always said you worried
For the ones you'd leave behind
And what they had to go through
As they watched your health decline

I never fully understood
How you found the strength to fight
Never once self pitying
Though you had every right

Never once did you complain
Or state life was unfair
Rejecting help because you felt
It better served elsewhere 

The tears you shed wer...

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Tags: loss,Poem,remembrance

Also by Matthew Nicholson:

Inhumane Treatment for the Sake of Existence | Picture of Health | Uncomfortably unable to be numb |


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The sea with fury

Beating waves upon the shore

The birds - souring high

But now the horror falls

Upon a blind man

Upon a dog who howls to the once blue sky

A child - who wonders if this is life

Crawls beneath the debris of his time


Seven times I heard their scream

Once I heard their death

Is this a dream ?


As I stumble in the mist

I try t...

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Also by jean lucy thompson:




All through the day up until dawn
impatient babies wait to be born
mothers bear pain, anxiety, and fears 
   replenishing life in this vale of tears
each one unique in its own special way
goes on to be labelled 
with a name...and birthday 

Ninety per-cent perfect...specimens of health
one or two lucky ones...born into wealth
a ...

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07212014-take the most enticing path

take the most enticing path
because all paths lead to death
do the fun one
because you're gonna die
stimulate someone
go on, live and lie
you're scared
and you don't know it
you hide in a house
believing you own it
you're internationally impaired
by no bombs in your neighborhood
seems like waste management
is the measure of good
because you're dirty
as the savages on tv
killing civ...

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Also by G.C. Dickson:

07082014-life is a piece of cake | it's around 35 |

switched off

You switch me off

You turn me on

You tell me I am the light of your life

But you switch me off

And you turn me on


Sometimes I feel so dirty and abused

I have got the fingerprints that prove

And still I let you touch me

You switch me off

And you turn me on


You push, you shove, you ram

You turn me on

You crash , you burn, you shout enough

And when y...

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Also by Martin Elder:

The red chair |

Miles Davis in Paris

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I remembered someone saying

– with first name familiarity

but too young to have known him –

Miles would never

have stooped to a moonwalk.


Looking back through a nicotine haze

to the husky chic of the fifties

and then beyond, I might have added

or a Bojangles shuffle.


The first time he played in Paris

the habitués of St Germain 

queued up to s...

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Also by David Cooke:

Slippage | For Jeffrey Hudson | Stereogram |


Loading the player…

A disillusioned fifty-something contemplated life one wet Tuesday while he mopped the kitchen floor,
Then he hung the floral pinny that he'd borrowed from his wife oh so neatly on the hook behind the door.
As he took the lid from off the biro deftly with his teeth, and the nib above the paper hovered close,
In his mind he tried to conjure words that aptly summarised how he felt, avoiding clic...

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Waiting in line

I sit here 
Old stars
On new screens
And I come to 
What does it take
These days 
To shake the people
Out of 
Their rocking chairs
Their lazy boys
Because they all
Like I did
And they will know
Like we do
And still
They choose
A remote control
With an electronic
And a TV
With all the 
And no interaction
And they walk the...

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Also by Twilbury Wist:

The search | The Fool | Stolen from Radio | Washing Line | This thing we do | It is what it is | Prelude | ink stains | Milk | The Meeting | Rage | The Circus of People | Knotted | The Awakening | Circles | Easy now | The mechanical hen |

No longer an Item


(A modern tale)



Strange, the way their love disintegrated:

Spats and small disloyalties-petty spites-

Were for the most part causes. No reasons really

But squabble enough for their small hearts

And feeble loves. And though, at first

There was an ache around the hollowness

It was of short consequence – soon gone.


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Also by Harry O`N eill:


Minor Sin

Loading the player…

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(In a rather dark humour so I thought to re-post this.  I do forewarn audiences this is a little shocking but they are always shocked)


The mission’s not impossible; it is not even hard;

I just enact the script for Him - a player, nothing more;

It’s happened in the future once it’s become His Word,

Which is to purge creation of the Babylonian Whore.


She worms her ...

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Also by John Coopey:

Honoured | Babies |


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The generators thunder on

Churning up the air like a thick furrowed plough

Relentless in sound

 A backbone to the field

which tastes like gasoline

Rumbling the undergrowth

The size of home is the thickness of this noise

And the area with which they spread their hold

Engine meeting engine black grimed

young men with dreadlocks bunched up like tree stumps

 long hair ...

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Also by Rachel Bond :

The Elk Dog. Retelling Myths and Legends. Blackfoot Tribal. | Bad Queen Mab a story from 'The Bond Grimoire.' |

A brew

~A brew, a brew, my kingdom for a brew!

The sturdy stalwart of mothers' meetings
far and wide, the bank manager's only consolation
to the father of four, battling debt, going bankrupt
the very next week.

The nightly soup kitchen, where the hand of friendship and support
lies within a steaming mug, dissipates thoughts of desperation,
bringing forth the will to fight another day, the war...

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Moving (on)

Empty boxes now unpacked,

I pretty sure I left with more.

A new house with new memories,

But an old house with bare floors.


Still there's promise in the air,

And potential in the frame.

Perhaps here I will thrive,

I know it can't be the same.



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Tags: hope,moving,new

Also by James Roper:

A Weed | Secret to Success | Headache | Take This Seriously! | Memories |


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Last night I dreamt
Of the dark alleyways
Leading to the Sands
And the black bags
Getting pushed around
Outside in the wind
Like a circular sleeping bag
Than a photographic reflection,

Singing through the windows
Of half torn memories
Of a delayed youth
That hung on the edge
Of the Old Arndale
Where we used to go dancing
In mops of blonde perms
And watered down lager,


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A landscape swathed in 

bed clothes bloodied by 

divisions of dead nights

down by the tongue tipped

epidural canal is where all 

our broken toys reside.


After flags flutter this scoop

of limbless existing twisted 

punctuations, translations 

like zephyrs whispered through 

this laundry of continents,


the sun presides, dug-into 

orbits of moon;...

Read and leave comments (1)


entry picture
Poem 221 of 230:  MAJORS

If golf taps the world for its players
    (And few would deny that so),
Why, then, are three of its four majors
    A U.S.A. sporting show?

(C) David Franks 2003; from - 

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in ruins by the river Bollin

one handfull and i am gone here

looking into the water to check for messages

baptised by the waterside i nearly fell in

out of my depth

the trees are waving come over here

find something within

too busy watching everything

writing letters from the overgrowth

doing press ups on a fallen tree

just a dream

birds chat mad

butterflies dance clever

and the river flows...

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I thought i was broke.

i thought i was broke:
I dragged my feet slowly to 'e bank,
pushed glass the door nd walked in ,
upto "e plump man at the reception ,
then handed in my account number ,
the bank balance was as ever is nil,
these figures made my heart sink,
i was breathing, walking i thought ,
fit healthwise for which i never pay,
enjoying 'ese services each second...

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Also by edwin wachira kuria:

a love letter from the sun to the moon |

Palaces of Words

Palaces of words.


We search for truth in thought, build palaces of words and pyramids of philosophy,  but how often do these palaces become crystal unclear prisons and our pyramids lead us to be encapsulated in our own sarcophagus.


How often is all this philosophising an exercise in futility, the seeds of idealistic theorising sown on council estate pavements that only seem to h...

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Also by Ged Thompson/ Liverpool Poet:

Whenever |

French Invasion

Since the bloody Battle of Hastings
When 'Arold got killed by French Bill
We've seen an endless invasion of French
And I've just about had my fill
Don't we have enough words of our own
In this wonderful language of ours?
- To seek and find le mot juste
Dunt take much linguistic power

It seems using French has been with us forever
Passed down as a fait accompli
Have we ever really t...

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Pangs of Legitimacy

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Take me home, please, I became overtired

With these false visions shown to me

A monastery on the coastline, I saw

Lined up against a wall, waiting to take a drink

From the well that feeds the lost souls.


Sick of the flies on the wall, they crawled

Over my skin, feeding on my own weakness

They left me naked against the drainpipe

The stone was built over me, covering


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Tags: 2010

Also by David Blake:

Interior/Secret |

so confused of love

This life is wonderful but hard and confusing your emotions are confused and your mind is full of guilt you want to runaway But also stay. Then the world has its interference with you and your decisions are gone You cant think but your feelings are so sensual, you feel like you know someone and like them but your in love with someone else. And thats when life gets so confusing Think of what and...

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Also by olivia:

hold me | Mindless |

Poem: Heavenly Invitation

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Written down is God's Word;
we are encouraged to be heavenly, joint heirs.
So examine His Word for Truth's proof,
for His wish is that 'we join Him there'.

Jehovah first gave of Himself,
breathing Life into Man's creation.
Now He is waiting patiently...
And anticipating a grand celebration.

Final merging of the family tree
are earthly souls and angelic beings;
hear the chorus of prai...

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Tags: breunig,christian poetry,faith,Heavenly Invitation,poetry

Also by Joseph J. Breunig 3rd:

Poem: Sunday Soldier | Poem: Lasting Hope (sequel to New Age Spirituality) |


I don't often show my feelings

It's something I can't do

But now it's time I took a chance

And said these words to you


Although I don't express it

I want you to be sure

You're the reason for my living

I couldn't love you more


If I can stay this happy

That will suit me fine

And you're the one who did it

Simply cos you're mine


It's an empty feeli...

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Tags: Natfastic

Also by Dave Drury:

The Chaser of Rainbows | A Poem of Love |

The Stranger.

I paint my picture's with my tears,

false smiles on my face,

My past is the key to my future,

a part of my life I cant erase 

I know so much, but tell so little

the stranger made me feel so fragile, 

and so brittle 

The stranger took my innocense something 

not meant to be taken, 

no love, no happiness, my heart was not forsaken. 

I cry at night waiting, 

i ...

Read and leave comments (0)

Also by Courtney Smith :

(untitled) |

After Southerdown Storm

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After Southerndown Storm

These shores are my medicine,
a coastal playground,
the spaces
in my mind.
Not tangible,
constantly changing.

This last storm
altered them

Yellow ochre clay
Atlantic weather has shaped
the waves
to clear
the limestone fossilised pebbles,
hurling them
on the
at Dunraven Bay.


Read and leave comments (4)

Tags: storm wales grief

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