This Garden of Skipton

     This Garden of Skipton


     The accusations are muted here,

No more audible

Than a gentle summer

Breeze through the branches

Of trees that shimmer in

The sun,

     I can gain some

Peace until once again

The making ready of the gun

Signals the end of tranquillity,

     The brief startle

Breaking reverie of freedoms –

Now subject to despondency


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Also by Noetic-fret!:

Pray For Beer | Made For Bad |

On Highgate Hill

entry picture
In the shaded leafy Grove
I parked my ugly car
And felt an eerie eye on me
Cast down and not from far
The spilling pub across the road
Young lovers revelling hard
It was not they who watched me stroll
Into the coach house yard
The spire of St Michaels church
White and ever gleaming
No Saints or Angels perched upon
Of I, there subject, dreaming

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Tags: London

Also by David Moore:

Coming home | State of the planet sitrep | M25 | Nytcophilia | Merely camping | Gazimestan 1389 | Gazimestan 1389 | Self assessment |


with its rotivation of air

this big thing hangs, a violation

threatening the eye of a storm

in its punctuation .

Hearts beat rotorwise.

It takes blood stock and uniform, pride

to places no decent man should go

and always, yet never alone in the immediate place.

The drum explodes, nothing is expected

that can be tasted nor heard

but a song of the vanquished, the refrai...

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Also by ray pool:


Eternal City

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Eternal City

Friends, Romans and tourists!

The eternal city
more breathtaking than pretty
where the prospect
of a Euro
is more popular than pity

And why not
you need money to live
in a city like this
buy a two grand hand bag
or a ubiquitous selfie-stick

We bake with the beggars
in the searing heat
a wall to wall furnace
is every street
stifling, blistering
almost unbearabl...

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Cycle repair man

His one eye would fix on us, mock glare

pitted, pockmarked skin, hands with grease coats

never washed, a dirty rag upon his shoulder

as we got air filled in tyres, late for school

he, mumbling and rooting inside a wooden box,

he would wheel across to wherever he stayed

no one knew. Or cared

a rusted lock, protecting his rusted tools

the key lying across his thinning frame


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Also by Preeti:

Parched Earth |


A taste of existence between two slices of the unknown.

A forced feeding of time you can't spit out.

A story of your life on a toilet roll to be used by the arse of eternity.

A place in a queue lining up for rigor-mortis.

A baby being made to jump an indeterminate number of yearly fences.

A listing of your name on a menu for worms.

A loan from the bank of creation requiring your ...

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Also by Rose Casserley:

me about me | Child of the Zodiac | beyond the Monroe cul-de-sac | cast adrift |

The dove.

The dove

that emblem

of peace

a symbol of


who bears the 

olive branch.

So timid

so evasive



he chooses


and remaining

on whom 

he wills.

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Also by Huw Thomas:

The creep. | Lowliness. | Such misery. | My favourite | I replied unconvincingly. | And then listen. | Say the least. | I should mimic him. | A figment of the imagination. | they need. | Back in the day. | Wifeillitis |

Koan on Knowledge

To answer the questions of life

a man must first allow the question

or how can he know anything

of life


© Graham Sherwood 07/2015

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you are naked

dancing under the sunlight

in your imaginary

crimson dress 

the velvet foil

of your illusions

sparkles in your eyes 

the freedom of deceit

on another man’s hand

you feel invisible now

through the glassy brilliance

embalmed in those glorious charms

fallen from the sky

like great wings of fire

the headstone and the hail

the thunder and...

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Also by Colsibabes:

Vinyl Memories | quiet |

Powerful Beauty

*My daughter made this brilliant poem (her words) lol and asked that I share it with you all. She is 10 and has started to experiment with words and writing. She sees me write very often and today I told her about Haiku. Explained what the structure consisted of and let her have at it. A few minutes later she handed me this :) 

Beauty has power 
stronger than anything round
You better watch o...

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Also by R Miller:

Impulsive Words | I Hate Ice Cream | Frozen Blind and Lost | All of Me | My Wish For Him | Ex Alert |


Sometimes I stand there

In front of the mirror

And my stomach grows

My thighs fatten

My chins double

As I stare at myself

I can feel the food inside me

Bloating and distending me

From inside out

I rush to clothe myself

In case they no longer fit by the time I am finished

In case my fingers become too fat

And sausage like

To do up my buttons

I feel sick at ...

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Tags: body dysmorphia,fat,thin,who knows?

Also by Stu Buck:

claret | economy domine | beach |

A Model Archaeologist at The Carpenter's Arms

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On Saturday 4 July I celebrated my second book reading event of the summer to promote my new poetry pamphlet, A Model Archaeologist:

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Tags: Eyewear Publishing,poetry readings,The Carpenter's Arms

That Day He Didn't Die Again

~~That Day He Didn’t Die Again 

An empty crisp packet fought the wind
from the furthest corner of the park
to where I pushed the girls on swings;
it briefly wrapped worn denim shins
then railed against the playground bars.

Trees rooted around the meadow’s edge,
mirroring an animated crowd,
swayed approvingly and shook their heads
or stood motionless withholding breath.
The trajectory...

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Also by ray m:

Neapolitan Street |

It was not me

I said nothing

To cause those tears

To create the rivers

All men find 

Impossible to cross


It wasn't me

I did nothing

Or say anything

To cause the sea

of tears that drove

Worlds apart


And so so many

Good souls lost their


In the storm of 

Your raging moods


As for I said nothing

Or do anything

Well lets face ...

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when news was easy

When The News was Easy


Most of us know more now than we did before when news

was simpler such as the Soviet Union bad- and Mao in China   

swam across the river I have just been reading about Sinai

 a place I thought consisted of sand, goats and Bedouins on

white horses, but there has been a slow war there going

back a long time. We didn’t and were not told that Islam has


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Also by jan oskar hansen :

meeting an old friend | a poet road | the undying soul | changing class | job seekers | ghosts | Ruben, the teaser | Ruben, the teaser |


Coming of age
Garnet of constancy
Three wise men.

Violet winter
Humility of the soul
Spiritual wisdom.

Shadow of the sun
Good friday
Bloodstone courage.

Innocence like a diamond
Independence of the light
Celebration of earth.

Emerald of love
Lily of the valley
The joy of Mother's day.

Moonstone roses
Pride of Father's day
Health pearls.


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Also by Keebler The Elf:

Rainbow |

What those who know don't hear

Once upon a time

I sat on a mountain
Forgot to look
At the sky
Forgot to watch 
My feet 
Didn't see 
The Lightning
Across the 
Thought patterns 
Which could have been
My mind
Didn't notice 
Ideas take shape
As the rain
Made the grass
And the sounds 
Which deafened 
My ears
Went unheard
Because of
The noise 

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Iron Lung

Sometimes.  Sometimes, when I am alone,
 I slowly, warily try and bring myself back.
 Cry out the rotting lump in my throat,
 pull at greying hair, a constant reminder,
 life is passing and you are no longer there.
 Unable to breathe. A little girl lost,
 flying kites into thunderclouds.


Glancing faces of mornings in all their glory
 delivers me to rest – and now I’m blessed
 with ...

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Tags: Katypoetess,love poetry

stepson icarus I (07/03-05/2015)

there is so much to be consumed;
there is so much to consume you

the flame-licking candles of summer love
the zenith where bending over backwards finally breaks
shatters the sky you've met as limits

and you come tumbling down, breaking every branch
at first trying to climb back up 
'I can fix this, I can fix this: I can be whatever you need me to be!'
then, trying not to fall so far

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Tags: the audacity of a ring i've never been so paralyze

Wrapped In Paper

You held a child's heart.
Each broken fragment
wrapped in paper thin lines,
torn from a brand new jotter.
A pain-spattered confession
pleading for answers.
If the words had come to life,
you would have been deafened
by their screams.

Yet you did nothing.

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What A World

A world apathetic to the pain that apathy wrought.
How much apathy would one want to endure.
Such a delight to endure the degradation.
Ever a joy to degrade so slowly. Into quiet.

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Tags: apathy,degradation,pain,sorow,world


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(Written a couple of weeks ago but unable to post owing to holiwags)


When I was a young boy, no more than a sprog

We cherished the beautiful game

But now it’s transformed from a Prince to a frog

And dirtied its great and proud name.


The game was a beacon which gave us so much

In innocence, pride and in smiles

Brazilian magic, the skills of the Dutch

And Banksy and...

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entry picture

Death; the dealer

of the final deck of life.

No hidden agendas,

just a cold slate to wipe.


With hand and sword

or rock and stone,

with shaft sailing deadly

through grey skies, alone.


The smarter the weapon,

the reaper delights

at a fulsome harvest

of terror and cries.


They split the atom

and split the odds,

they split the proceeds

but nev...

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Road Home

I drove home from Sunday night folk club with a storm over my house in the distance.  The beginning of this came to me.



Road Home


Leaves and walls and windows spin,

a jigsaw broken by a falling sun.


the road home,

a breaking storm.

I wonder what we began.


There is no calm centre,

power and colour after.


Yesterday isn’t the journey,


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Tags: abstract surreal,lyrics,poem


Images of obesity appear to define the age we live in.  Despite knowledge of nutrition easily obtained about

cheap healthy food (sardines, eggs, beans, bread, salad, soup, fruit et al) to be found everywhere, there's

this perversity of purchasing food in modern life that sees it becoming a deadly lottery of "weight and C" for

those unmindful of self-care.  Today's NHS is overburdened with...

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like stars

Like the stars up above are your sparkling eyes, You make me happy when you smile, like a surprise Your face i adore, And the love i have for you grows more and more I hope someday we get to explore the world Im just thankful to god that your in my life.

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Also by olivia:

nieve |

How much is she really worth?

How much is she really worth?

Her beauty is gift and a curse.

A gift to me.

A curse to her. 

Not really knowing why I want her.

Thinking my mind is stuck on lust.

But my mind is the opposite.

Her face is beautiful and her mind is equivalent.

She leaves a mystery after we talk.

Got me wanting to know more.

Exploring her mind besides her pants.

I can't stop over thin...

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Tags: love,worth

Also by Ja'Saun Young:

The art of giving up | HER |


I hate speed

Licence to kill, not a thrill

There is no need,  for any kind of speed

Wanker Bankers thrive on it

Arrogant tossers delight in it

Put them on a treadmill to charge batteries

Take away their car keys for life

Coppers should set an example

Instead of speeding at every opportunity

One law for them, another for the lower orders

Cars are murderous machines


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There is no north-south east or west

Up-down right or left

Far-near in or out

Without a point.

No line without a start and stop

No circle without a centre

And no matter how long or squiggly

No shape until a line touches itself

At a point.

No structure in any dimension

Without the meeting of points.


Like discussions simple or complex

Of minor or major import...

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The floatability of fruit {an awardwining poem}

It's not about what you eat, it's not about what you wear.

It doesn't really matter whether you're a peach or a pear.

When the star you see blinks at me,

it died years ago but its ghost is still seen.

On the crystal cold days when your breath turns to smoke,

something secret seen to all,

sometime then I will fall.

Caressed by the sand man wrapping me with drowsiness,

a swin...

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He Doesn't Make My Heart Sing

He doesn’t make my heart sing;

he doesn’t make it soar.


He doesn’t make my heart sing;

he leaves it wanting more.


He doesn’t make my heart sing

although I want it to.


He doesn’t make my heart pink;

he only leaves it blue.


He doesn’t make my heart sing

with every word he speaks.


He doesn’t make my heart full;

well, only full of leaks.



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Unrequited Love

Don’t tell me you want to love me,

Abduct me, take me to despair,

And abandon me there.

Don’t give me contemptible hope,

Laugh profoundly while you see me grope.

Don’t tell me how you’ll find me,

Continue to deride me,

Grasp my hips and doggedly grind me,

Push contempt and release malevolence inside me.


Don’t give me sorry platitudes,

Perverse in all your atti...

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Also by Michelle:

He’s a Drunk | Bukowski's Disciple |


Sunday morning and up out of bed
Time to inscribe more beliefs in your head 
Listen to preacher for he says no wrongs
But ignore all the pictures of boys dressed up in thongs.
The blood and the body will nourish your soul
And his words and a book will make you whole. 
We look onto Jesus for what to do next 
He guides you, he's in you, it's not that complex.
This man in white robe...

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Also by K.G. Mikel:

Soliloquy of a psychopath at Gunpoint |

It’s not rain

Fire erupts furiously

A roar of thunderous anger

Followed by a rush of garishly smoke

A message released in desperation

Begging for acknowledgement

Only to dissipate 

To vanish

To float past heaven

As the sounds and smells become part of the world

It is exposed

Seen to death

The final act

A lone and solemn drop


Subtly slipping past sight


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during starlight

Glowing windows

stepping the hillsides,and

pooling the congregations

of their lights

in valleys

having flickered like fireflies

join the late dark.



effigies of godliness

contrasting with tenebrous surroundings

bleat vocal anthologies of pitifulness.


An owl unfolds and paley ascends

into its ghostly predatoriness.

Obscured in the fretwork of s...

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I fell in love with Vic in June,
one sunny Dulwich afternoon.
I revelled in her company.
She didn’t fall in love with me.

It’s foolish, but it feels right
that I should keep my torch alight;
my heart demands that I defer
to love, and for the love of her
who wants me only as a friend,
I’ll simply let myself pretend
that one day, maybe, she might wake 
and recognise a telling ache.
I k...

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In Regards To

You are so far away, yet you still see my wet cheeks, drenched in tears.

Lips locked, cheeks flushed, breaths even.

You are so much within yourself, yet you still reach for my heart, pumping wildly.

Arms wrapped, legs tangled, breaths even.

You are so quiet, distant, brick upon brick.

Heartbeats together, eyes closed, fingers entwined.

Hear my whispers, listen to my yearning. H...

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Out Dogs and More Along With You

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n our home in Aughagreagh we used to have our share of the local sessions, where neighbours met up to party, tonight in one house, next night in someone else’s. This tells of a local house where the wife had a short tolerance after a certain hour and wanted the house cleared. The locals, out of a sense of fun and divilment, were not for moving… I wrote a version of this before and lost the words o...

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Tags: Culture,FOLK,SAYINGS


I lift my feet up to the height
In succession upon this flight
I rarely ponder this improvement
That aids my steady uphill movement
I stop
I look around
I focus in
On that constant sound
Many steps are being trodden
With the process being forgotten
All these people escalating
Faces up, never breaking
Gazes fixed straight ahead
Little care of where they tread

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Fruit Fool

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The kumquat sobbed upon the shelf,
A fruit somewhat benighted,
Despite the verse he sent his love,
His love was unrequited.
You see the fool was unaware
He’d got much too excited;
His muse turned out to be a plum ...
This kumquat was short sighted.



Copyright © 2015 Jonathan Humble

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~~Watching wet suited fella’s a’bobbing
Got to wondering and then some thinking
Why so much sitting, and waiting
Continuous bobbing with legs a’dangling
There goes a wave, what’s wrong with it?
Is he just enjoying a tight suited, comfortable, sit?

Occasionally...  Very occasionally, whilst waiting
Activity will occur, legs and arms wildly thrashing
Damn, missed the crest.  One of the bes...

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Tags: Humour,Sea,Sex,Surfing


Dangerous men are governed by others , who dictate the way of the past . There duty to pray for forgiveness . They forget forgiveness won't last . There hatered , there greed and domination . Is born into there soles at birth . Thinking all females are there for there taking , and only them should they ever serve . But serving them females are committed , becoming betrayed , used and abused . So b...

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This Place


This building, this monument to my demise

This place supplanted for working I have come to despise


This battleground of angst and stress

Its tendrils tear down and barriers undress


My everything lies broken upstairs in my mind

My hopes and my dreams like dust from the grind


A warzone where many face few

An enemy within each day anew


My brain I’ll ca...

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for whom everything is certain
brush through the late spring
with the eager disinterest of a spaniel
stealing sandwiches from a stranger's picnic

do not notice these ferns
curled around in turning cartwheel
fingers held in buddhist contemplation
of shared energy of the body

want to know why I am interested
in these plants immemorial
that have not been mentioned
in thi...

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