Nothing pure, unbroken lasts,
The world changes innocence,
It's best to disregard the past.
We're fated to don the cynic's mask
In spite of life's condolences,
Nothing pure, unbroken lasts,
Despite our ill-reaching grasp,
Or self-preserving countenance,
It's best to disregard the past.
The body decomposes fast,
we lose our precious permanence,
Wednesday 28th January 2015 4:39 am
Also by James Roper:Grandma | A fall in the Morning |
Sounds of a Breaking Heart
Was it the shattering of the glass?
Or the howling of the wolf?
Was it the crying of the wind?
Or did the rain fall heavier?
The ticking of the clock?
No, sounded more like gunshots to the ear.
The thunder rumbles ever so near
And the river seems to be running wild
Was it the crackling of a blaze?
Or an extinguishing gush of the flames?
Sounds like the break...
Wednesday 28th January 2015 2:22 am
Also by Smash Lee:This Song | Secret 2 | Secret 1 | Duet | Leave Innocently | Leveled Up | The Big Bang | Her Love | Whispers |
Well once again it has gotten very late so once again it will be a short one tonight. I do promise to give you something meaty to get your teeth into at some point. As you have seen though, it’s been a very busy few days for us here at Bunbury. It didn’t stop tonight as we had our weekly Do The Write Thing meeting. As always, the writing was phenomenal. My mother’s in particular was a tour de bril...
Wednesday 28th January 2015 1:30 am
Also by Christopher Moriarty:Poem A Day For A Year - 26/01/15 | A Poem A Day For A Year - 25/01/15 | A Poem A Day For A Year | A Poem A Day For A Year - 23/01/15 | A Poem A Day For A Year - 22/01/15 | A Poem A Day For A Year - 21/01/15 | A Poem A Day For A Year - 20/01/15 | A Poem A Day For A Year - 19/01/15 | A Poem A Day For A Year & Self-Evaluation - 18/01 | A Poem A Day For A Year - 17/01/15 | A Poem A Day For A Year - 16/01/15 |
For those who are alive
To see the British newsreel
And remember the spring of 1945.
The British army entered Bergen-Belsen,
The heart of Germany -
The town of beauty and harmony.
Neat gardens, rich farms, …
All around seemed to have only charms.
English soldiers began to admire the place,
In any case, up to the moment
When they felt the smell.
It looked lik...
Tuesday 27th January 2015 8:57 pm
Also by Larisa Rzhepishevska:The Picture | Bile of Crocodile |
So here's a shot for freedom, although why should i pretend. With a broken heart inside me, and the drugs im getting in.., theres a bottom to this bottle, and along with all my friends. we can make it in this world, just as being bubs till the end.
Tuesday 27th January 2015 8:29 pm
Also by @d@m :F#ck your depression, F#ck your hope. | i dont even know | aha sidny. cx |
Is our childhood a past life? Or a dream?
A place where we left a piece of our soul behind, at the playground, on the swing
A soul left behind, picked up gently by the wind;
&Then I wonder if time steals our innocence, or if its society to blame
&Suddenly nothing was the same.
&The pain, you wouldn’t believe the pain
The pain that lay beneath ...
Tuesday 27th January 2015 8:07 pm
Ashvamegh magazine is looking for writers and poets: https://leilaniestewart.wordpress.com/2015/01/26/new-online-magazine-seeking-submissions-ashvamegh/
Tuesday 27th January 2015 4:20 pm
Tags: Ashvamegh magazine,online magazines,poetry magazines
Also by Leilanie Stewart:Free writing competitions from January 2015 | Two poems in Morphrog Magazine Issue 10 |
Should I have lived a life
Without upsetting anyone
I’ll sulk in my grave
Should I have lived a life
Without the madness of love
Bewails will rot my coffin
Should I have lived a life
Of politeness and good manners
Howling wind my voice
Should I have lived a life
Not seen the beauty of a snowdrop
Black soil and blindness
Tuesday 27th January 2015 3:29 pm
Also by jan oskar hansen :hunger | electrification | The Serb General | Yemeni | worth fighting for | The French | waterway | the problem with humour | freedom of the press | a woman's man | soul caretaker | something gained | fulfillment of dreams | comedians | Eye of the needle | haiku | spring and three friends | Ambling About | mirror mirror on the wall | New Year 2015 | haiku written on the way to work |
The revolutionary ardent
Bordering on a prophet
For democracy's advent,
Up on grabbing
The rein of power,
With a superb
For a tyranny
For political tugs to emulate!
Tuesday 27th January 2015 3:16 pm
Tags: To orator politicians who don't mean what they say
Also by Alem Hailu G/Kristos:To hell I am inured | Old Flame | Come to Ethiopia |
Tuesday 27th January 2015 12:49 pm
Also by Chris Briggs:Writer's Block | A Sonnet To Stella | Sign Of The Times | Bunfight At The Kerbside Corral | Spirit Of Christmas | Fuck it, I’m indecisive |
of our differences
is long gone.
Some might say
it is a duty
that I perform.
Yes it is!
But I infuse it
with pride and a passion
in Mothering my Mother
as if Mothering a Saint.
in her broody days
I now know to be
her very be...
Tuesday 27th January 2015 10:37 am
Also by Rose Casserley:Disbelieving the believers | Finale | Gustation | A mad half hour on a cold (obviously)Winters canal walk | Mine until | Repudiated | Men in black | Head clutter | Post separation |
Hope I make the most of my gifts.
I'd be damned if I stayed the same person I was a year ago
Willing to work for mine, fuck a handout.
Whether it be a full-time nine to five or freelance, I'm gunning
for the top where I oughta be.
Not a rapper, just a brother presenting a gift for the world to see
possibly change someone's life.
All I want is for my family and my girlfriend t...
Tuesday 27th January 2015 3:49 am
Folded gently like
the hidden memory
of her smile,
Her parted lips
said more than
Tuesday 27th January 2015 1:46 am
Also by Tommy Carroll:(untitled) | (untitled) | (untitled) | (untitled) | (untitled) | Passe-moi un crayon |
Hearts & Thorns
Romantic hearts will always bleed on Narcissistic thorn
Ad infinitum this occurs until compassion born
So those who give but little should not ever see a lot
Some riches can be found in seeing worth in what you’ve got
A reach too far, a want too much, will make a rich man poor
He fails to see things he holds that others may adore
Tuesday 27th January 2015 1:10 am
Also by Ged Thompson/ Liverpool Poet:Disinter | The Train Ride | An Aphorism Of Mystery | One thinks |
Monday 26th January 2015 11:23 pm
Also by Twilbury Wist:(untitled) | (untitled) | The forest | The fair ground | swarm | Cave people | Paper dolls | The march of the living dead | count down | The perfect murder | Inside out | Like monkeys in the rain | castles that bounce | Marbles | Lying Eyes | Truth and Lies | half an eye | plug hole |
of truly undesired
long decayed wreaths
and wilted flowers
rain soaked cards
between rooks and magpies
half submerged tilting headstones
insulted by lichen and moss
the carved br...
Monday 26th January 2015 8:27 pm
Also by Patricia and Stefan Wilde:After striking a match | Terrible place,revisited | 69's in our 68's! | Face changer | Dads d-i-y sanctuary | Natural poet | When the sky Lion roars | Perchance on a dying day |
They were young
and cowering in an alley,
fearful for the future,
as sirens screeched
The sky a molten white
of churning clouds.
trying to be anywhere
She turned to him
with moist eyes
and lips the colour
of arterial blood.
When he tilted
her chin upwards
her gaze never left
the yellowing smoke
Monday 26th January 2015 7:54 pm
Tags: end of days,eviction,kiss,love story,mankind,nuclear blast,richpix,sci-fi
Also by Ian Whiteley:Redemption | Broken Doll | Art Attack | Cronos (The Reaper) | Resolution #9 |
Too bright, the flame
reaching high, leaping
as if, a warning,
of impending darkness.
plunged into inky stillness
the candle burned out
before the night was through.
You always turned the wick up,
at par, with the bitter moon
searing me in your revenge.
Monday 26th January 2015 4:19 pm
Also by Preeti:Dogs | Letters |
Scurrying like rats in the sewers,
Swiftly hiding from the flashlight.
Tree-climbing tailess monkeys,
Grinning mischievously down you.
An orchestra of laughing, screaming, crying, playing,
With a mad conductor presiding over them.
A football, a skate board, a stone, a stick, a leaf.
Digging in dirt or becoming superheroes.
Ignoring pleas for calm and quiet;
Unwilling to tidy, clea...
Sunday 25th January 2015 4:43 pm
Also by timmdaly:A bag of things |
This one is not your shiny superhero(ine)
She emerges from Earth
a mere mud and blood smeared
But she is the one you'll want
to lead you through the darkest Dark;
to tell you tales of following
deer deep into the Deep
and finding there the
Resting Place of Innocents,
where a child still awaits you.
And when she leads you into battle
Sunday 25th January 2015 3:19 pm
Also by Lea:Fissure | Truth Will Out |
Someone, whom I didn’t recognise,
smiled at me today,
a smile that seemed to meet her eyes
as I passed on my way.
And even if of little depth,
a gesture which costs nowt
put a spring into my step,
there can be little doubt
in returning her ready smile
my walk became worthwhile.
Sunday 25th January 2015 10:25 am
We worship different prophets,
listen in earnest to their devout words
and marvel at the miracles,
that some say are smoke and mirrors.
So are we foolish to be fooled?
If there be gods, with real omnipotence,
then surely we would seek to bring them down
in favour of more friendly deities,
that sit with us, that feel our pain,
those gods that we can touch
in common dre...
Saturday 24th January 2015 6:14 pm
Also by Graham Sherwood:Tidings | Resolution | 9th Age | The Rubicon Years |
Depending on where you are I T can be pretty on the outside but then again not.
I dont know how exactly but Ive mangaged to survive.
There are wars but peace lives next door.
There's hate running amongst I T's grounds but love is always somewhere floating in the air.
It drives me insane how individuals like myself can become so settle
I T took me damn near twenty long years to STO...
Saturday 24th January 2015 5:45 pm
Also by Starr Steele:Unfinished Love... |
Do you ever feel like you could just scream for eternity
Every thought you cast upon yourself contains pure negativity
People wonder how you can feel so low, but they don't know,
Reality to you is completely different to that in which they live
Every night you go to bed, you wish that it would be the last
So many sleepless nights you're plagued by insomnia,
Suicidal tendencies play upon your...
Saturday 24th January 2015 5:11 pm
Also by Tony Kasazkaja:Growing Old Disgracefully | The Shadows On The Wall | Poverty In The UK | Modern Living | Alice | A Quiet Evening Down The Local | Depression | Mockingbird | Little Jimmy | The Hero A Nation Forgot | Do You Believe In Angels |
Saturday 24th January 2015 1:01 pm
Does your heart stop
when confronted by beauty
Out walking on an autumn evening
a train intersects the low setting sun
crossing a bridge over the swollen river
our worlds' perfection is exposed
And my heart stops
like a level crossing
my heart stops
in that moment
I take a breath
a deeper breath
reeling in that moment
let the beauty in
Saturday 24th January 2015 12:44 pm
Also by Tom:Ruins | It Feels So Far Away This Evening... | Nocturne | Follow The Raindrops | Calligraphy | Artefacts | Blackbird |
Do the Scots celebrate William Wordsworth
Who lived not far from their border?
Do they eulogise John Keats or Lord Byron?
If not, then let's call them to order!
Why should we bother with Burns Night
Who are as Scottish as spaghetti bolognese?
Spare us the haggis and the drone of those pipes
And hangovers that linger for days!
Saturday 24th January 2015 11:57 am
Also by M.C. Newberry:MIXED BLESSING | WHERE ARE THE MODERATE MUSLIMS? | NEW YEAR THOUGHTS |
My first book of poetry published in paperback. Available on Amazon and all bookshops . http://www.amazon.co.uk/From-The-Trench-Park-Bench/dp/1507602391/ref=cm_sw_em_r_awdcop_eu2Wub095R0JG_tt
Saturday 24th January 2015 9:29 am
Tags: poetry army
Battering drums of feet hitting pavement,
Cackling cacophony of shrilll gossips treats,
Shoving past war painted, birther's of terror,
Occasional screeching's of insincere greets.
I hold my position and scan the horizon,
No movement of forces, no sighting of ranks,
Opponents and rivals move inwards towards me,
Pressing in at my sides, and sniping my flanks.
Saturday 24th January 2015 3:28 am
Tags: childhood,love,returning troops,school,son,war,world war 1
Also by Jacqueline Phillips:The Usual | Book | INSANITY'S BAR | Who Am I? |
I tend to
faith. I am
But do not
follow my example.
Do not hide
Let your light
of faith shine
bright for all
Saturday 24th January 2015 2:02 am
Enter the pretty young things
With fresh faced blue jeaned legs
Their hair long and blond
Not yet tied back
Not yet constrained
By babies, lovers, soft furnishings
Hard decisions and crushed dreams
Their conversation glittering awash
With all there is to do
Bags and coats
With questions, thoughts and ideas
Not for them...
Friday 23rd January 2015 10:16 pm
Also by Martin Elder:Celebration |
I used to buy toilet paper
for 4 now just for one
so I get the 2 pack
the half loaf
the small pack of marge
Open the door of my
one bedroom flat
make a cup of tea for
listen to songs by people
Make my single bed
turn round to see no one
wake up, kiss no one goodbye
shed tears that no one
Friday 23rd January 2015 12:31 am
Also by David R Mellor:DEATH is shit... | Martin Luther King (let’s turn back to You) | Martin Luther King (let’s turn back to You) | Martin Luther King (let’s turn back to You) | EVERYONE’S A KNOBHEAD | You’re so God like (I.S) | STEVEN GERRARD | I Scaled Dungeons This Year |
I only had to hear from your lips
a phrase of love,
or have loved me silently
as one loves God
To love me...
It would have been sufficient that you moistened my body,
navigated between my lips and my back,
seen a tiny gesture that would teem my soul,
and as a desired psalm,
love me again and again
until feeling the fire entering the arena of my skin
Thursday 22nd January 2015 11:00 pm
Tags: love poem
Also by Noris Roberts:Remembrance... | I write because... |
You see, life and death are endlessly in love
Life, hurt from seperation, frequently gives death eternal gifts
Death, lost in passion, takes these gifts and keeps them with her forever
Thursday 22nd January 2015 3:55 pm
Also by Summer:I Saw You |
A sharp inhalation of breath. Mine.
There! Did you hear the snap of a twig?
Wishing you are not on you own? No, I’m fine.
Pressing on. Carefully. A small touch of fear
That thrilling nervousness. Presaging excitement.
Is it possible someone is near?
I can’t see anything. Only hear.
Where are the others? I don’t want to know.
With their inane chatter banishing the magic
Of moments ...
Wednesday 21st January 2015 3:46 pm
Drumming across windows
In both of the toilets
Banging could frequently be heard
Dragging chairs under the stairs
In the entrance hall
Thawed in the cheesy music
Leading to the main bar
Twitching across your back
Like a whistle blower
Drowned out by the noise
Over the sticky floors
And watered down lager
Curving into a maze of bodies
Aglow in a series of frantic lights
Wednesday 21st January 2015 12:58 pm
you always hear them say this,
whenever they've survived some great natural disaster,
or a terrorist attack, or a nuclear explosion,
or even when they've won the bloody EuroMillions.
"it was just an ordinary morning;
no different from any other day."
Jean's husband had been up and about for thirty three minutes:
singing out of tune to Absolute Radio
and forgetting to rinse the shower.
thirty three wasted m...
Wednesday 21st January 2015 11:15 am
Also by Matt Abbott:Open All Hours | Tony's Slip #twitterfiction | In Church On A Tuesday Night | I Matter [commissioned by York Arc Light] | Flat 1A - Marigolds |
The way your hands attach themselves to my body
The way your lips stick to mine
That breif moment we stop and look deep into eachothers eyes
Trying to find forever
Love is mixed
Along with friendship
Together it made a clear view of our future
Take my hand
Take a risk
Lets start off our life
Repopulate the world
Make it our ow...
Tuesday 20th January 2015 4:42 pm
Also by ashley-monet:silence |
a house of churches: banners of lament
built of pills, blood, love and cement
flags at half-mast, although
good intentions never fall
reaper-kind, what good we sow.
roads that spiral inward
shattered like glass
rewrote like victor's history
great minds losing likeness
drawn up into a mystery.
bridges burnt at sunrise
our compass, an impasse.
meeting's on sundays
the foundation of a so...
Tuesday 20th January 2015 3:35 pm
Tags: fence shuffle posse death is innocence lost lost l
Also by Zach Dafoe:Inept (1/11/15) | Marlboro's Men (01/09/2015) | Mosaic Meadows (01/08/2015) |
Instability, we've already got it globally; but here
in the UK we're still okay, so far. But what happens when
a combination of apathy and self interest have eroded our
We take democracy for granted, but I'm hearing today, on 'BBC
Democracy Day', that in the last general election, 17 million
eligible voters (1 million more women than men) failed to
Tuesday 20th January 2015 2:56 pm
Tags: BBC Democracy Day,global instability,sleep walking,the super rich
Also by Phil Fletcher:The split infinitive. (Or 'Twisted logic'; or 'Running scared.') | The not too unusual occurrence of treading in dog dirt while you're out walking in the half light time. | Incredibly Stupid. |
So very many of them,
far beyond, far far beyond,
any one individual's ability,
beyond the capacity of any person
to read, to absorb, to grasp,
Too much, too much
by a mind-boggling margin
as billions of new facts
are created every day.
Fresh mountains are added, whole ranges,
and you and I can manage
to take on board just six or seven
Tuesday 20th January 2015 12:24 am
Also by Dave Bradley:Metaphysical musing |
-the ramblings of another young girl-
This empty sky,
starless and dark,
reminds me of my heart..
and how you left it cold and broken
and rotting in my chest.
Monday 19th January 2015 7:04 pm
Also by .L.m.P. :iloveyou |
When January wind its fist doth shake
And wooden fences tear from their places
When horses start, when cattle shelter take
To the hearth...
Sunday 18th January 2015 8:15 pm
Tags: Liverpool Poets,Poetry,Subacchi,Welsh Poets
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If we are lucky, we grow old; if we are wise, we will remain forever young.
Sunday 18th January 2015 7:02 pm
Tags: Old Age,Spoken Word poetry
Emotions trickle out as two worlds collide
Forces pulling at every muscle
Making you want to smile day in and day out
For the rest of your life
Butterflies beating softly against your stomach
Attempting to escape
Knowing if they build up any longer
He will know of your excitement and overwhelming happiness
There is this funny thing we call fate
A single invisib...
Saturday 17th January 2015 2:31 pm
Also by Caitlyn Olszewski:The Glimmer |
Their lips meet in a soft kiss
She touches his face with tenderness
As he draws her body near, their future from here is very clear
Forgotten now, the world outside as you can see the passion in their eyes.
His kisses warm, helped to escalate the firm connection they often debate.
We have all night so don't go to fast, I want this sensually to last.
Make love to me, ignite that burning fire as you...
Friday 16th January 2015 9:52 pm
Also by Kate:Wiccan | What It Takes | Stuck Lonely Girl | The Run | Dissipate | Escape | I do not feel, therefore, I do not fear | To You | What Have You Done? | Beautiful Disaster | Why? | Why? | Affliction | Rapture | Me & You | Your Eyes Won't Let Me Sleep | Sweet Heart | Forbidden Love | Fate | Who Knew | Essence | Changed | When I Was Young | Catch My Breath | Far too long | My blood | Convoluted | Beloved |
The stars under my feet, the white country songs of
the marble sun morn the western flight in waves and
white robes and I see the other side with eyes of long
veils. There in the eastern cave of serene shades the
musk of Eros lingers in fair springs. O fair maid! O
little heart! Ever watchful and woeful in the folly of
I shiver in the starlight. Come, lily dreaming weeping...
Friday 16th January 2015 8:28 pm
Friday 16th January 2015 1:49 pm
Tags: Dead Snakes magazine,poems,poetry,poetry magazine
Untraced in the darkness
Of bloodied roses
Over the next two weekends
At various birthday dos,
Raw from realignment
Pretending to be a tram
Ina turmoil of movement
In the acoustics
Of tender fingers
Lost in clenched fists
Falling through dust holes
Bottled up in hazelnut emotions
Of the birth of another re...
Friday 16th January 2015 12:57 pm
Also by Gray Nicholls:waiting for Nancy (XVI) | Waiting for Nancy (XV) |
An Indian summer in October
A non uniform day in the dirge of dreariness
In you swept unannounced
A hurling hurricane
A sea of calm
A pocket of promises waiting to be unearthed
You found me in the dearth of my moldy life
You scalpel scraped the pallet clean
Sprouted taste buds where once before lay some withered woes
Alas, you’re an avocado!
Thursday 15th January 2015 9:37 pm
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