Let the Chips Fall

Let the chips fall,
We're cutting down a tree.
But only to build a bridge
made of electricity.

It's connecting you and me,
to a future we can't see.
Que sera, sera,
What will be will be.

The light that shines inside us
is directing you to me.

Fate is in auto-pilot and it flies in stealth
the beauty of surrender
is a new abundant wealth.

To hell with always asking why

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Tags: acceptance, destiny, fate, love, philosophy, surrender

Also by IndigoAngelUshiku:

Lover's Limbo | Blood Mage |

Making a list

Alone does not hurt or brutalise

Alone does not drink beer and sing

Alone does not leave socks on the floor

Alone does not make me overdrawn

Alone does not run the risk of something broken

Alone does not make promises

Alone does not make me weep

Alone does not tell me what to think

Alone does not think it's all ok

Alone does not keep score

Alone sound alr...

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Also by kayberley:

Untitled as yet! | Gnomic love affairs |

One World Soon

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One hope I have for my children
No hunger or fear in their lives
Every parent wants this, so that is no surprise
When will the world meet in honesty
Openly plan an end to all poverty
Remove the crowns from the commerce kings
Let morality stand proud within all our tradings
Don't let it take too long my friends

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Tags: Unity

Also by Dave Dunn:

Call Out | Wait For The Flag To Unfurl | One Planet, One People | Wish To Enthrall |


Electric fence     nnnnnnnnzhnnnzhnnnnnnzhnnnn

Spar     ks     ks  ks

Water dripping     pp   dri   pp   pp

The room entire:







Then the sparks sto     p

A bucket for the dri      pping


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Also by Kealan Coady:

The Colour Transition | Sound Translations Two | Mostly Concrete | Afraid As The Past | Sound Translations | Ir | Bobby Sands Wonderhouse Of Invisible Strength | 100,000 Years From Civillization | Microbes, looking | Once The Earth Lay Down | Loopworm | Qualm 2 | Qualm | Love On Pearl Harbour Night | Bill Burroughs Cut Up Reality |

Control Food

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Control Food

I don’t know when it started
When food became an issue
I remember how life was
I was diagnosed as dyslexic
After my Mum sent me for a private test
Although the School didn’t want to accept it
They didn’t want to help
Budget issues, staffing and resources
Excuses, excuses, excuses
My Mum fought their disbelief
Craving the help and guidance I needed
I heard ju...

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Tags: eating disorder, food, real life

A Time For Snowdrops

A Time For Snowdrops.


The snow spoke words of winter and it sang of passing time,

The mundane and the mystic of the sullen and sublime,

It whispered untold wonders and it shouted stunted verse,

It bade the time of brilliance and it welcomed in the curse.


We walked with youthful pleasure as we stumbled into age,

We prattled out our simple lines upon a wondrous...

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Also by Ian Gant:

Ragged Beauty | Eyes On A Winter Page | The Seven Deadliest And All That | IMPISH | DANCING | THIS YEAR OF GRACE |


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Somewhere, the 9 till 5 office worker stops me with a deadpan stare,
Fixes me with the times of timetables passed, the graph paper squares
Of tomorrow’s schedule. The high-rise offices never bother to look down.

I never liked the city.

Never really cared
for the city’s callousness, its daily suicide,
the shadow at the top of each building that watches with certainty.


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Tags: city, despair, Greek Myth, medusa, poem, poems, poetry

Pretty Young

Pretty Young


In a room full of people pissed up and more

She caught his eye over the sticky, fag ash floor

She looked pretty; young in her face not her clothes

She swore blind to him she were eighteen years old

Had a date of birth memorised if he cared to delve

‘Cause she’d been out on the lash

Since the day she turned twelve

And just six months later she h...

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Grey of hair

And moustache,

He would sit


With the slow guest


The un- perspicuous


In his tiny kitchen.


In the aftermath of war

And plenitude

Of remnant explosives

He had come into possession

Of some hand grenades.


And desiring

To eat of more fish

Than a mere net


Had ch...

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Damn you-Freeview!

The thought of T.V. holds no appeal this evening, so,for a change I try to strike up an unusual conversation w'it  wife.   I ask do you think Martians have ever walked down our street? she answers- Dunno love,I,ll ask Mrs Scroggins in the morning- she knows everything!   Although my attempts at conversing were inadvertantly derailed at...

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Make the World Your Ashtray

So that ye may not be the martyred slaves of time,

that you may be as boundless as a young man in his prime,

that you may be at one with nature beautifully sublime.

Make the world your ashtray, and never stand in line.


There are so many mere mortals and a certain little few

are full of ego-lead authority telling you what to do

and acting on a big idea that isn't qu...

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He chewed the word
like week old gum
its mountainous peaks and troughs

a wiped clean credit card
poked a plastic shark fin
from the crocodile bubbled wallet
gaping in his palm

he was just confused
but he needed
a long word
to picture the beach

one that drew out the blade
from his dead friend
spilling red
through the pebbles

one to navigate the dot dot
Pollock spots chasing dark swirls across his spray ...

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Does it help to be dead before you are read...

In your sodden grave with the sod overhead?


Is eternity the place to be

Before the world says that's for me?


Will it help fame to find your rhyme

If you're hauled to your tomb before your time?


In death to strike a deathless pose

While a newly-wise world admires your prose.


If that's the way i...

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Also by M.C. Newberry:


A distant Memory


I see you in black and white,
a smear on my screen 
secretly opening up a door
to the unknown universe
that you now inhabit.

I feel astray and distant
from a future,
that never

My remembrances of us are
so unlike the motionless
image flickering on my screen:
constantly metamorphosing,
from perfection to a man
living in the delicate body of
a woman.


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Tags: love, remembrances

Insult to Injury

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Upon leaving the army

the country gained

one more scrounger.


Swapping medals for disability

bullets for cuts.

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Also by Chris Co:

What's the good | Proper TV | ThePoetry Spoke Open Mic January- Guests Joy France- Dave Gilbey | Yesterdays Post |



What is hiding inside your cupboard? Out sight and mind, forgotten about. Could there be a stolen stash of cash from a bank job that was never recovered? Or an antique Webbley pistol from World War One? Worth three grand. Maybe a small enchanted gold necklace lurks there which belonged to a real witch. Does she miss it? An old piece of paper with a faded love poem wrote in purple ink...

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Tags: cupboard, hidden, junk, old stuff, valuable

Also by nick armbrister:



I find It hard to stretch my mind, I would question the motives of a saint. Nice. Instinct runs through blood, or so I'm told. I worry about my brother, My blood is pure, Just cold.

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Electorate, looking out
was not what he saw.
He saw the Great apathetic.

Waves of passion crest in pubs
never reaching the ballot box,
falling far too short to give voice.

Fickle public,
present a point of view, then:
run and hide from those who could help.

He doesn't care, just as long
as there is enough apathy,
to keep him seated.

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A Story

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There was a man who lived in city. He lived in a small room three floors up from the street and frequently felt very lonely. Now when I mention the city I won't say which one, as this might be misleading. It would prove less confusing to say which city it wasn't rather than which it was. For instance if I said it was London you might conjure a picture in your mind, perhaps of a man sat in a sma...

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For finding a nail the shoe was fixed.
For gaining a shoe the horse was available.
For having a horse the rider was on stage.
For involvement of the rider the battle was won.
For winning the battle the kingdom was gained.
And all because of the horseshoe nail.


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Tags: serendipity

Also by Dave Bradley:

This will do | Birthday with a zero | User Guide |

Selby Abbey

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(I owe the redress) 



For the past millennium astride the clouds of time

Has stood the pride of Selby, iconic and sublime.

Older than York’s Minster, than that of Salisbury too,

Inspired by Benedict of France, and built by Abbot Hugh.


A house of joy and worship where choirs of children sing

But boasting royal heritage as birthplace of a king.


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Also by John Coopey:

Selby - "My Least Favourite Things" | Kranp | Mistress Rachel | Clitoris | Tontine | Walford | Father and Son |

Yorkshire Steel

This memento

Of Sheffield:

I bought it

For you.

Should I leave it here?

Seeing as

It is stuck


In your guts.

Your lifeblood seeping

Onto the cold,

Soiled pavement.

You lie, eviscerated, gurgling.

Helpless as a newborn.



I don't hate you.

I don't even know you.

Or your mum.

Your brothers and sisters

Or any...

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The Party is Over

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Imprisoned thoughts dribble down my face
while forming patterns damply drowning
like the long-awaited swollenness of
babyfaceless not so darling gentle
crowning from the queen of hearts

Ice-olated stalactites sung low
with unappreciated bluntful
breasts of blinkered glory on the edge of
trueless stories told by heartless mothers
frantic to absolve their blame

Seagulls solita...

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Also by Alan Morrison:

Broken Beauty |


Tippler toilets down the yard, pitch black.

No chain,

ripped up newspapers down the drain.

No lights,

not even a candle on cold winter nights.


Constipation cured when the cat runs in

and the rat runs out.

No locks,

just scream and shout

when you pull up your kecks

and scamper out !


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Also by Mike Hilton:


New album 'Bankers & Looters' out now....

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My angriest and most topical album ever....Available from  http://www.attilathestockbroker.com/merch.html

Loads of gigs happening soon....

Cheers A

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Like Clockwork

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The only things that matter in life

Are time, and suffering, says my friend Maisie,

Herself a philospoher, with two degrees,

One in philosophy, so she should know.


And time is fascinating, she says; odd choice of word,

Personally, I used to have no time for time,

It passed me by like a river flowing round a stone,

Until I got my new clock; new to me, that is


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A Dog's Life |


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They all crash and burn

One by one

They fall

Like black doves

In flames, little dots over Normandy

Scraping through clay skies.

In each dream

A real man.

The black and white


sharpens up the contrasts

Of their edges

But Now they


And flick fast past my eyes 

Until in technicolour

There is no grey

Just  hues of the...

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One day, a butterfly

Came by

And settled on my knee

Can't you see

Said he

That I am Free

Free to fly

Into the Sky ................

Bye Bye

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Fred Goodwin Ate My Hamster

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He didn’t really, I just like the title.

I’ve had loads of hamsters over the years,

None were eaten by Fred, my fears-

Of losing a hamster to Freds greed

Were misplaced.


I should have been worrying about the safety of other things

And not my furry little cutie pies

With their tiny little rodent-y eyes.

Not as expressive as dogs

Are hamsters, in my opini...

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Lancashire Sung Simply (Chants from Walkabouts - 13)

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Poem/song 136 of 230:  LANCASHIRE SUNG SIMPLY


D A Bb A
D A Bb A G F F
D A Bb A
D A Bb A G F F)

Cut by rivers/met by sea;
Patched by farmland,
Mills and other industry.

With your links-lands by the sea - 
Rough left wild/
Greens and fairways clipped neatly.

With your Pennine boundary;
Steeped in history,
Through your bu...

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Also by David Franks: Walkabouts Verse:

In a Small Pot (Chants from Walkabouts - 14) | Lingolf (Chants from Walkabouts - 15) | Windermere (Chants from Walkabouts - 16) | Tees to Tyne: first impressions (Chants from Walkabouts - 17) |


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Blinding bright the winter light

strikes out against the chill

reviving life and spirit

as perched up atop the hill

it reaches through the laden clouds

strikes all who lay below

warms, restores, promotes, implores

instils a rosy glow

the visits though infrequent treats

remind us of the force

sustaining through truncated days

as the season wends ...

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Also by Christopher Dawson:

Cupid and Psyche |

a st agnes tragedy

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Renee Scoble's cat

used to be quite fat

once sat on the mat

sometimes chased a rat

now she's just got flat

and...that's the end of that!




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Tags: stair lift incidents

Also by Ann Foxglove:

dead daffodils | missing mum |

The Banking Sector

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Also by Tommy Carroll:

Don't cry: Etta James | Wandering expositions |

Coin Collecting

Though quite a Europhile, I'll willingly admit

One thing the single currency just cannot do

Though, sadly, truth to tell, the self-same problems sit

Within the British monetary system, too.


I was a coin-collector, as a geeky kid;

I scoured for specie in my pockets from loose change

Which in those times so many of us children did

Though numismatic hobbies nowada...

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Also by C Richard Miles:

Aurora |

" Snippets" from "Oldlancsmans" Diary. Part four.

On the street where we lived,a general merchant had his goods-yard,,where he stowed  his wares,this yard held a very large shire horse which was fed on a regular basis by all the residents, local and not so local,the merchant also kept an extremely beutiful rooster, its feathers were of many colours,it also sported a large red comb, it was a magnificent bird, when the merchant opened his yard i...

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Also by oldlancsman:

"Snippets"from "Oldlancsmans"Diary. Part three. | "Snippets" From "Oldlancsmans" Diary. Part Two. | Snippets from "Oldlancsmans" Diary.Part One, | Was this visitor "Peg " O " The well ?. | SUNRISE | A TRIBUTE TO IAN,MY NEPHEW. | Clogs & Shawles |

X Marks The Past

X marks the spot

Like a treasure map

Of the first places

We made love.


From the golf course

To the side of the train station

When your cold hands

Startled me that much

I was surprised

You didn't draw blood.


From the moonlight

On the moors

Where you howled throughout

So badly I thought you

Would transform

Into a werewolf.


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According to Ivan Illich

the siren of one ambulance

can destroy Samaritan attitudes

in a whole Chilean town.


He was a passenger and knew

next to nothing of cars except

sit tight and hold on around corners.

Saturday was his Sabbath

and the pool-hall was his temple

until a swerve to miss a mangy dog

sent his algebra flying at angles;

he felt the...

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Prologue to a final solution (Scenes from a film unfinished)

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The piles of garbage were real
All over the top of the ghetto
To the nearby river
Almost as a replacement
For the fresh air
That sneaked in from
The outskirts of Warsaw. 
The piles of garbage were smudged
All over the truth
In a sea of panic
As the Police fired into the crowd
And two pregnant women
Were trampled to death.
Piles and piles were stacked up

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Also by Andy N:

Acrostic poem on Libraries | Hands in my pockets |


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Music and dance my big romance, I feel the rythm in TRANCE.... Puts kicks in my SOUL while ROCK makes me ROLL ...I like to move to the groove, I take rough with the SMOOTH... with POP I never stop!! ....JIVE I feel alive....I kick ass with trash .... HEAVY METAL i have a bash... CLASSICAL makes me chill while ROMANCE fits the bill ....musics my drive, it makes me glad to be alive .....



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Also by Lesley Whittaker:


Stephen Mellor's Wooing

            As unto the child the chord is,  

So unto the man is woman,      

Giving life one to the other.       

Men believe they hold the whip hand;

Women let the men believe it;               

One as bad as is the other,                               

But the way it always has been.            

            Thus the teenage Stephen Mellor,         

Born and br...

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Also by steve mellor:

But | Mellor Clerihew |

won't you throw me a line?


i fell down a dank well

where I found some shovels

and dug deeper to dwell

whence depression grovels


on all fours, blind, mute;

alone down there I groped

in darkness, an acute

sense of loss that I’d hoped


was a ghost of the past

moulding itself to me.

that bleak place was the last

one I wanted to be


in but, alas, I found


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Tags: no tags no labels

Also by Richie Muster:

Maiya Via Firelight | In Her Passing | Heart's Route/Art's Root | The French Kiss | Grrrrrr | This Earth And I | Poundland |

My Amazon sales ranking.

My Amazon sales ranking.

(‘Ranking’ rhymes with ‘banking’, and we all know what that rhymes with, don’t we boys and girls?)


I’ve put one of my collections up for sale on Amazon, having a few

Spare copies on hand; (thank Christ it’s not a whole shed full!) It’s

Listed on this splendid organisation’s database, (I’ve had some real

Bargains on CDs and DVDs, picking up arti...

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Tags: Amazon.com, david bowie, eric clapton, john lennon, william magonnegal

Also by Philip Fletcher:

3 Weeks left to live? | Can you get sex on the NHS? |

Translation of my very old song


Там, где ритмы речей давно не слышны,
Собираю фрагменты  фраз.
Или видел меня ты не с той стороны,
Или вовсе не видел нас...

С каждым днём бесполезней моя броня,
Мой спасительный броский цвет.
Перед тем как сменÐ...

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     It’s a day today,

Just like any other day!

     We toil we’re paid

And pay our way

As life ceaselessly moving –

Incessantly badgering

Keeps all in ways of conformity

And there; we hasten a quarrel

That life, is not living

If living is only to work.



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Tags: United Nations

Also by Noetic-fret!:

10 Reasons for Nothing | For Every Jailed Sorrow | Questions? | Not Mad; An Ode to Needful Things | Stretching | In Hell | North by North West | Cocoon | The Abstract of Confusion |

Ode to Pain


We are separated,

and it seems that I can no longer

look you in the face.

I know that you would take me back

in a blink,

and I would love to come. But

four painful weeks have dragged by,

a lifetime, after which even your smell

is now a distant waifish breeze.

Pining, I am fading too,

I am less without you,

Isn’t that the point to prove?



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Also by Graham Sherwood:

P.O.E.M.S |

For my son, Joe, on his thirtieth birthday


For my son, Joe, on his thirtieth birthday


thirty years ago

(how is thirty years a long time but the memory a second?)


I held you in my arms

baby, proud Father

as a photograph


so many old photographs

where for a second

the living are captured


I want to reach inside

live the moment

know again those people

whose flesh w...

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Also by Glyn Pope:

New Year |

52Weeks week 3

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In my attempt to document the year's events through poetry, I simply could not avoid this subject. Having been on several cruises myself, the sinking of the Costa Concordia really hit me. What added a more sinister and perhaps cowardly aspect to the whole misadventure was the behaviour of Catpain Schettino. I therefore dedicate the following lines to him.




Look what...

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Also by Matt Rakowski:

52Weeks Week 2 | 52Weeks project, Week 1 |


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Life is not a tale.

You can many times fail.

Life is a science.

It’s your reliance.

If you all the time learn

you will certainly earn

the knowledge you need

so that your life to feed.

You can be joyful and cry

and million times to ask:



Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)

The 24th of January, 2012

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Also by Larisa Rzhepishevska:

Rzhepicks | She Is A Whore | Red And Brown | Winter Kiss ( Competition) | I Thank You | LOVE IS A MISTRESS OF HERSELF |

Ragged Man

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man on the street, I

turn my eyes so I will not meet.


No, but see my possible life.

Fear in my heart, is all hope


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Tags: fear, homeless, ragged

Also by Shirley Smothers:

Starved to Death, for Jovonie |

Gerry Potter interviewed by Dominic Berry about 'THE MEN POMES'

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'The Men Pomes' by Gerry Potter
8pm, 29.2.12 - 3.3.12
Studio Salford, Kings' Arms, 11 Bloom Street, Salford £7 / 5
Tickets can be bought on the night at the door or bought online http://www.ticketweb.co.uk/user/?region=gb_northwest&query=schedule&venue=kingsarmssalford&month=1&day=29&year=112&interface=kingsarmssalford

Creator of Chloe Poems and writer of smash hit play 'Miracle', Gerry Potte...

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Tags: dominic berry, feminist, gay, gerry potter, kings arms, man, manchester, men, men pomes, performance, poem, salford, show, socialist, studio salford, theatre, verse

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