Imaginary letter to older self

Dear Gray;

When you are 60
Will you still listen
To the same crap music
That annoys the hell
Out of most people
But still leave you
To headbang
While stood up
On the bus
No matter what
Everybody else thinks


And still wear
Those t-shirts
That look like
They are held together
By bits of invisible tape
And should have been
Thrown away
30 years ago.


Dear Gray; 


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That other place

Drifting into overwhelming

and obligatory strangenesses.

Leaving behind the command of time.

I am beyond the touch

of its unexplained momentum.


Here many visions

inscribing themselves in ripples

on the shadowed fluidity

of nothingness pulsating

in its own excellence.


Awakening day breathes a newness.

Enigmatic magicality

having performed so many d...

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Also by Patricia and Stefan Wilde:

lesson in fighting | Born to be Wilde | Cumulous and Co. | Granddaughter | misguidance | Insider | Questions for the ascended one | Balletomane |

THE MENIN GATE -11 November 2013 (Music Setting)

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Written following the ceremony on November 11, 2013, a copy has been received by the Adjutant,

Wellington Barracks SW1.  The poem is especially relevant this year...the 100th anniversary of the

start of World War One - "the war to end all wars".  This version is included in a forthcoming CD

of my work called "Poetry To Please".  


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Poem: Lord, You Are...

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Lord, You are my strength,
whenever I'm completely weak.
You are the spiritual delight
in Whom I only seek.

Lord, You are my morning light
that's shining above the mountain peaks.
You are my hungering desire -
For each day of every week.

Lord, You are my vigilant Father
over earthly trials through which I eke.
Please keep me mindful of Your Word,
so my attitude remains... humble and mee...

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Tags: breunig,christian poetry,faith,Lord You Are,poetry

Also by Joseph J. Breunig 3rd:

Poem: Standard of Cooperation | Poem: Game Theory | Poem: Spoken Word | Poem: Prayer Scented Incense | Poem: Violet Muwanguzi | Poem: Silent Tears | Poem: For Just One Day | Poem: Cleanse Me Lord |

The Walkin' Man (Audio Version)

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some of you kind Write Out Louders offered me some great encouragement when I posted this poem earlier this year (tribute to Pete Seeger) and suggested it might work well with a musical backing -so - I've been in the studios and produced this version - I hope you like it:

The Walkin’ Man

Serendipity Spangle was a walkin’ man -
of that, there is no doubt,
he walked across great continen...

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Tags: birth of american folk,crows of albion,music,pete seeger tribute,protest songs

Also by Ian Whiteley:

Bruises Of The Norman Yoake | Children Of The Glamned | The Bicycle Scout (21st August 1914) | Flamborough Head |


In that lift ascending
In that hotel bedroom
In that empty office
On that leather sofa

In your midnight bedroom
On the last train home
In my en-suite bathroom
In the Soho cinema

In the tips of your fingers
In the palm of my hands
Peeling those clothes off

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Tags: Electricity sex passion lust desire

Also by Tom:

Ruins |

Easter All Rapped Up

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Thank god it’s Good Friday - come what may

Just don’t expect me to kneel and pray

I’m a doubting Thomas - a non believer

A lapsed catholic with cabin fever

If you are of a religious persuasion

Elevate yourself - rise to the occasion

Hallelujah praise the lord

Jesus loves you - climb on board

Crucify yourself - make that connection

Check it out right now - here come...

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Quoth Both


My daughter brought a Jackdaw in the house

And grief introduced itself


Melancholic and wounded

It hunched in the corner of the room

She fed him her loving eyes

Bread in tweezers

And named him Poe


Then this sanctuary

Took him

She phoned every night

He was mending well and with the magpies...

He was in the biggest aviary...

He was set free.


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Tags: birds,childhood,children,daughters,faith,Grief,loss,parents,wings

Brevette Poems (Second Edition)

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I wrote this second edition at the suggestion of M.C. Newberry



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Tags: Brevette,Poem,second world war

Also by Shirley Smothers:

How am I going to Explain This? |


At ten past ten; ten fifty-five;
at midnight, then at five past one
slowly clapping clock-hands clapped
again, and slowly carried on.
Four twenty passed; five twenty five;
six thirty; seven thirty five;
sleep eluded me all night, now
I’m compelled to look alive.

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Also by Travis Brow:


Trading Places

Time to sever all alliances

shades dark which depict


No purpose those serve

 and independence restrict


Had my share of amends

 beliefs now must uphold


 Fix impending glitches

skewed life thus remold


All of robbed past verve

it’s time now to beget


 Seek out fresher vistas

sans cause for any upset


In environs carved out


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Tags: anticipation,changeover,hope,positivity,swap,Switch

Also by Sunny Chopra:

Fraught Grapple | Typical Day |

What I Heard in Sharrow Vale (for Pete Mckee)

Now then!
Folk tell tales here
with a wink and a stare.

In November 1950
Pablo Picasso
visited Sheffield
for a hair cut,
and some toast.

It was as cold
as cubism
on that day
in Butlers Café.

They say,
and I don’t know
if it’s true
that he had
a big old fry up.

Some even go on to say
that when the plate arrived
the artist made a face
out of the

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The couple who sometimes clean my house came today,

she has a new boyfriend now a nice looking man who work

hard and obey her. I don´t know what happened to her first

boyfriend he suddenly disappeared, rumours has it he was

a bit violent, and my cleaner is not a woman who tolerates

who tolerates that; I think she killed him if found out I will ...

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Also by jan oskar hansen :

black humour | San Clemente | Lavender | the right gift | strange encounter | milk churns | nails | friendly animals | misfit in Liverpool | Christopher Hitchens | hero or traitor | the wait |

April Collage Poem

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Flowers of colour under summer blue

Daisy chains bind maidens tight

Bluebells ring out their charming spell


The river's reflection may not be

what you want to see


The seasons shout hello but whisper goodbye

Spring colours into life; grey memories, white swans

neglected lighthouses



I would like to wish you all well

as I can't think of anythi...

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Tags: Stockport Collage Poem

Seven Deadly Sins

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The question is “Do you need to score 100% on them all? Or is there a passmark?  Or can you afford to fail in three if you pass in four?”

These are important theological questions for me as currently I sit precariously balanced.

I’m not avaricious nor envious, and I have no pride.

On the downside there’s gluttony of course, slothfulness naturally and Noel Edmonds makes me angry....

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Also by John Coopey:

Nigel Farage | Sharing the Wealth | The Hoaxers |


Is it the game winning shot

Is it thelasting mark we leave

Is it the continuation of our story

or the continuation of anothers story

Is it ours to have or ours to represent

Is it the focus of our actions,

on something greater than ourselves

Is it having that one thng that cant be taken,

a purpose for the thing we call life

Do we find it in religion, or in others, 


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Also by some dude:

Lost |

between ink and a prayer

Should the blood of my pen

illuminate this draft and others

with the procurations I have made

from  innernesses

and the toying with scents and meanings

then nothing

will be allowed to make a home for itself

where words need to grow

and hopefully

evoke their own divinity


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Just enough to get you through



She was a romantic, warm hearted, sentimental fool in a very cold world, the type of world that sometimes seemed to have no refuge for dreamers and those that believe in true love.   At times she would feel loves warm rays dance briskly across her face and the seeds of self worth in her heart would just for an instant anticipate the beginning of spring and the end of her winter.  Th...

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Frozen, they placed heavy footprints

on hard-packed foliage, etched ice;

the withered bark stretched around

in slanting lines, near-collapsing.


Moving these weights, one step, two;

these notions in a February mist;

regrets like the broken skies above,

where clouds drift dark with mingled smoke

from fires marking from whence they came.

But no scars give away their c...

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Tags: 2013,Yesterday's Weather

Also by David Blake:

Chapter One |

Shakespeare Authorship Debate

I have arranged a panel debate on Shakespeare's authorship with the motion 'Shakespeare Authorship Question - Does this Matter?'  
The speakers booked are Dr William Leahy(author of "Shakespeare and his Authors: Critical Perspectives on the Authorship Question"), Alexander Waugh (Executive Director of the Shakespeare Authorship Coalition), Dr Duncan Salkeld (Reader in Shakes...

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The poetry of people

I wonder
About the poetry 
Of people
And of life
All of you
And me
With our
Our rhythm
Our search for
The soul
And yet
It all seems
So alien to me
Animals dancing 
To a hidden
Which even 
They can't feel
Most of the time
Yet still it 
Goes on
Inner music
Inner movement
Forcing the clockwo...

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Also by Twilbury Wist:

Blinded | Lost Love | The Battle | The Hat |

My Love

"It isn't love", he said
"Any love would know this isn't love", he said
And so I sat.
And in those hours
I asked my love to leave.

I slept.
And when I woke
my love woke too,
and everywhere I went that day
my love was there.
"Don't dwell", I told my love.
My love just smiled.
And I knew my love would stay with me.

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Offenders and books

As a proper poet I must have an unasked-for and misinformed opinion about the issues of the day. Here's my thoughtful response to the offenders/books debate:

My advice to offenders

The great and the good have decided
That you don't get no books at all
'Cos all you'll do is pile 'em high
To try to climb over the wall

So to conceal your block and tackle in
Swap your snout for a bloody big t...

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Tags: Comedy Poetry comedy verse politics


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Poem 45 of 230:  PORTOBELLO ROAD 

After questing forever,
    I bought an old blade-putter
On Portobello Road -
    By my London abode. 

‘Twas the Saturday market,
    And I was pleased with my get
From Portobello Road -
    W10 the code.

Also saw the festival,
    And many another stall,
At Portobello Road -
    A good arts and crafts node. 

(C) David Franks 2...

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oo i ow


Do you know where Hoy is?
Heard of the Old Man
(back to him in a minute)
But do you know where it is?
The Orkneys.
God's backyard.
A golden place for our silver wedding holiday.
Caught the ferry to Hoy,
Wanting to see the Old Man,
As you do.
No sign of the hand of man, 
old or young,
in the wild windswept centre,
just the road and the heather. 
And then some cheery, elderly r...

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Night Out.

I keep telling myself not to take it so serious
All this time wasted and I’m left delirious
As old as bones and as cold as stones
Now I’m not sure I should be left alone
Free to think of me with wealth
Drunk, stoned and stupid
And in perfect health

Step out the door
Leave the brain on the shelf
Tonight I don’t see it being much help
A thought there then here
‘What was that?’

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Tags: amateur,dark,night,night out,poem,self loathing

Poetry video - Nautical Almanac by Leilanie Stewart

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Here's the link for my latest poetry video. Nautical Almanac is a poetic weirdo of mine that was first published in Spring 2011 and archived in the publication at the Southbank poetry library. More details are at my blog


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Tags: poetry reading

Also by Leilanie Stewart:

Joseph Robert's poems in Message in a Bottle magazine |



Imagine a world of love and laughter
Of fun filled days and freedom till after
The tea time call or the playtime bell
Get back into line or you'll catch some hell

Imagine a world of wildness and wonder, of fun and jest
Of questions and answers and adventurous quest
When time was your own and life was a whim
To walk, to run through grass so long, to swim

Imagine a world ...

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Tags: childhood,children,life,love,memories,world


Whilst our leaders wretch,

choking on the acrid stench of their own arrogance

and await the fall like curled leaves

into the domain of ghosts and shadows,

our inadequacies, once sown to our shirts like buttons

tarnished and dented by the dulling air of our apathy

now lie ankle deep around us.

Ergo we bend fossicking in the detritus

to salvage discarded nibs and inks and p...

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In Every Day An Hour

In Every Day An Hour



     I cannot lie to you,

I cannot relate my experience

As anything of any worth,

I cannot deceive you into

Believing this be a life worth

Living and beholding,

For in simple truth,

I cannot lie to you!


     My world is very different

From yours,

I share this ball - this globe

With you,

     But I am not here...

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Question From A Supernumerary

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I feel a little in the way, a nuisance I suppose;

I'm like a green carbuncle on a supermodel's nose.

A fly found in the ointment, a worm upon a plate,

A banker's contribution to a probity debate.

A vegan at a hog roast, a snake inside a boot,

The water lapping at the feet of mighty King Canute.

A politician's promise, a long forgotten vow,

As useful as a set of wheels...

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My Sky

 Pulling corners from their isolation
 Pulling hallways from their lonely walk

 Seeing someone come along for the eye
 Promising it wont be long... enough

 Stayed and hid up in my mind
 Stayed and forgot the time
 Stayed to watch what I hate
 and stayed to hear "it's far too late"

 Clothed myself in laziness
 Changed my mind a million times
 Changed but found me still sn...

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Also by Athena:

Driving You | I'm Out |

Part 10 (Ghost Story)

part 10 of this is now online (these are going quick!) of my napwrimo ghost poems ( and my third guest poet, Hazel Connelly who offers a lovely ghost poem herself ( In a few days time, our fourth poet, Gray Nicholls will submit a piece too, then after that (...

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Also by Andy N:

Ghost Story Part IV |

I`m singing because....

I`m singing because…


I`m singing because I`m left down in this cold submarine and can`t get out,

Because people keep hammering on the hull and calling the noise music,

Because they think that this stale stench they breathe is really air.

I keep telling them it`s not so, but no one listens.

So I sing, as it`s only the singing makes them heed.


I`m singing because I wa...

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Only Once the Spring Comes

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Only once in a year the spring comes,
Only once all gardens blossom
And all around looks awesome.

That was in the blooming spring,
In the delightful evening,
When my love was singing.

His words were just priceless,
I believed him with lightness,
I thought it was my happiness.

Only once we meet our spring,
Only once our love bells ding,
A sweet breeze in the air sing.

The stars fell...

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Tags: love

Also by Larisa Rzhepishevska:

The first or the last ...? |

Reporting Live From A Sinking Boat featuring Frank Tower and Owen Coffin

watch the violated become the violators

they say what goes around comes back worse

only God knows of our past

and we doubt he will be telling anyone

and most of us are ready for anything

we love reality waiting to hear official information

and need to be told how we are doing

climbing the ropes biting a hold of the knife

some things i can't leave the house without


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Reddish Women and the boys of the H.G Divishion of nutters | Them Field's Of Brabyn | i split up | Underground Buildings And Things | climate change is here = 20 years |

To My Unknown Soldier

I hope these help to keep you safe.

Are you lonely at the front?

You have your pals, along the trenches.

And we have ours, inside the factory.

The laughs we have, us girls.

I didn’t mean, that kind of lonely.


That’s why I’m slipping my note

inside this box of ammo,

which, I hope, protects you.

It’s funny. Though we’ve never met

and maybe never will, I ...

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Tags: First world war

Repeat please

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I haven't had the time, you know,
or so it seems to seem,
to write a few few lines for you
and remind just what it means
to have you with me day on day,
quite often regularly,
warming, warming mind and balls
and leading beautifully
my thoughts, those thoughts
so deep and wide,
so broad and oft defined,
and honed and focused lustfully
upon your sweet behind.

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The queen is alive but the king is dead

At the time I thought I was in love

At the time I thought there was no one who could come above

What we had all those days we spent

All those days when I thought I had meant

The world to him as he did to me

How I assumed it was meant to be

Please excuse me to act so corny

But I had honestly thought this to be destiny

When we first met, it was as though I was in a dream


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.... walkin'


See you walking
On a sunny day
Takes my breath away
And like a child
I am laughing.

See you running
In an open field
with the butterfly
Like some child
You’re laughing
With me.

Now the day is ours to borrow
Never thoughts of a tomorrow
Laughter has the taste of sorrow
You’re here

Drink this wine
The brightness holds us
Feel the wind...

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I have not lost but forgotten to lose my way.

I Have Not Lost But Forgotten To Lose My Way


I with my baggy head,

 have spewed from mouth and eye a starry sand,

 so infinite in grain,

that my hurried hands could not contend nor capture, 

the copious wilds of my tattered brain,

how is it so?

that an animal such as this,

a palid ape,

creates a frame,

with which,

words but vapour,

manifest wooden and...

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Also by Average Joe:

Transient Revelation. |

sin came first

sin came first

traced into tungsten ringed confinement

where a woman fluttered accomplished mumbles

offering a  freeform montage of nailed harmonic and shoddily baked

reality whilst peeing through her lowcut tights as rudimentary

precaution against the weathered discharge of wearisome love

yet still she sports a fierce grin through the endless commitment

of shapeless corners ...

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Tags: lust,misogyny,stoicism

Also by Paul Sands:

breathe |

Rebellious Senescence


The cell awakens,

kindling skin.

Ignites to multiply, accommodate,

proliferate, then slows,

begins to slough;





Becomes vacuumed,


drowned in suds;                               


swept through global lobes,

500 million alveoli times the population;                   


Read and leave comments (5)

Also by Laura Taylor:

The Bitter Skald |

thank you poem to god

i realize my wrong doings and am sorry god for the lies and cheating im sorry for letting you down

when you gave me life and stability when you gave me my family and my boyfriend the only true love in my life god im truely thankful and so sorry for everything thats sinful that i think of everyday.

jesus you sacrificed your life and im truely thankful, and greatful for the life that you have...

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Also by olivia:

miles far behind | redemption |

Thread That Binds

Thread That Binds

While I walk down the middle of the icy road by the park in the snow, I wonder how many hearts were broken on that Baltic night. 9k dead, each a family member, husband, wife, son, daughter.

In my minds eye, I see the Captain standing on the tilting side of his ship, the Gustloff. Fire axe in hand, he tries in vain to shatter safety glass on the viewing deck. Many people are...

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Tags: death at sea,history,naval war,sunk ships,ww2

Mr Twee

Warfare rages, blood pressure races, worry lines etch into our faces

Predictability always soothes

So we turn our glaikit eyes to you

A saviour decked in red, white and blue

Be our hero, Mr Twee.


Crashing chords in minor keys

Experimental creativity

Please god - spare us all of these!

For our stilted minds cannot compute

Unfamiliar jarring tunes

Blandness is the...

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Tags: bland,bloodshot,convention,invention,knighthood,music,pop,predictable,sepia,Simon Cowell,suntan,Tories,torture,Tory,troubled,warfare


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There's sand falling from the sky

coppered bronze burnished in silt and grains 

containing secrets of a magicked East

that became known around these parts as an overspill from the brick yard,

but this dust is Saharan

crustacae from planes

Dead lost places with no witness.


The heat of the sun bears down its mirage

and admires its own reflection over vast skeletal lans...

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Snakeskin Sid!

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Snakeskin Sid!

I once knew a man
called Snakeskin Sid
I knew that he didn’t
but he said that he did
Well who the hell do you know
who played for Real Madrid?

Oh you know the type
in his Ford Capri car
A Gin and Tonic
at the end of the bar
Hitting on the girls
but never getting far
Trying to make out
he’s a football star!

He had trials for United
but failed the test
He st...

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I figured it out

Where I was going

Thought I’d hit a wall

That turned out to be a brick door into your world,

And now I know that I wasn’t taking hits,

I was just being pushed closer to you,

All I needed to do was let go of all the things I held tightly to,

I forgave, forgot, moved forward

out of the grey that started turning dark,

believed in better and turned a wa...

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