Poetry Blogs

I'm searching for an unique eight character password for my online banking,

For a strong,secure and original one  so far I have been hankering.

There's so many different ones to choose out there,

I need something that no-one else can share.

It must be eight characters long,

What about me using Hong Cong?

Someone will have used that,it won't be mine!

Eight characters for my ban...

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 summer rains' quiet incantation, the animals come and go,

                    in the far-distant, the snow melts as the river flows;

                    time is a demon

                    the animals know.

                    It’s looking for you, y'know:

                  ...in the abdomen – demon go

                  ...in the albumin – demon go

                  ... ...

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I know little facts about war today
without facts in reason
i know enough
I know in school
they teach us in history of evil Hitler
How he murdered millions
children women men
the gas chambers
the injustice
vile despicable creature
"That will never happen again"
"how times have changed "
or have they ?
yes we are a modern world
computers updated typewriters
things are different now
...

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Today's poem is brought to you by the letter F!

Hanging on in there

From green to golden red

Delicately fixed

By an axil thread

Then freed of

This fusion

By a forceful breeze

Moment  arrived

To flee from

It's tree

Fluttering past

Admiring glances

The final show

So now it 

Dances

Then falls to

The ground

Having proved

All it's worth

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“The ropes are fraying and soon I’ll sail”
pencilled grey
along the edge of my notebook page
a heart-breaking phrase
sure to inspire, somehow
 
Flicking through, I read it again
and pause to lament;
That boat washed out
its anchorage severed
silently, in the night
no words, no words
 
He’s gone
and into that sad darkness 
so many other ships would follow
The town seems quiet this e...

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when

old men find out

they really do not matter

their own kids

have discovered

they don't have to listen anymore

times have changed

yet old men do not

so they become irrelevant

once they were thought of as infallible

now they are considered

just old fools

they have outlived their usefulness

their position usurped

their importance d...

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“What did you do, grandad,

To save the world from dying?”

”Ashamed to say I ridiculed

The little kids for trying”.

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Late September

and Bea is still picking thumbnail tomatoes 

scoffed like sweeties from a tub.

Every corner, cleft and crack

holds curled up brittle leaves

that rattle in the slightest breeze.

Around the shabby garden

plants look defeated, and ready 

to surrender to the change of season.

Damp cobwebs drip and 

trampoline between brittle stalks,

threadbare silver fla...

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Lonely Typewriter seeks Loving Home

(Inspired by d.knape's 'Forgotten Typewriter' and dedicated to all those lonely typewriters waiting for a loving home)
 

I am a little typewriter
Sitting in the shop
I may look old and type-worn
But still can type full stops ..........
..................................................

My keys are still together
My ribbon is intact
My 'a' through u...

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as the fat man talks

lies jump - like frogs from a pond

skins slick - glistening 

leaping free to the world

spawning false realities 

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All day long 

I think of you. 

I can’t wait to get home 

to be with you,

to feel your ink drip 

between my hands.

You are my love,

my passion,

my muse.

I know you will 

never leave me. 

We are bound 

by a legacy of words, 

that braids our soul.

Our poetry echoes 

through time and space, 

leaves a warm place 

for broken hearts to land. 

# # # 

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There is a certain light

which sits just on the edge of a cloud

more nuanced by the hues of blue sky

then the paler palletes of the further horizon

And you have seen the yellow flame dance

on the log 

whose sparks

rise and twirl into the deep 

crepuscular and cerulean blue

of summer’s twilight

And you have seen the golden 

grasses’ halo 

glow and circl...

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Killing Time Ain't no Crime

My date is at five and it’s six am

That’s eleven hours between now and then

That’s six hundred and sixty minutes I reckon

Or thirty-nine thousand and six hundred seconds

They’re ticking by, but not fast enough

They’re tic, tic, tic, tic, ticking me off

The time ain’t flying, it’s got me sighing

The minutes grind by and it’s crucifying

As ...

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Sometimes you come with out warning,                                                                                                                      you're so impolite,you make souls cry and human chaos.                                                                                          Rain,Sun,Storms,and flames,nothing can stop your false triumph.                                       ...

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I don't know how to not be awkward

I don't know how to format a good poem

I don't know how to apologise 

I don't know what to do 

But,I do know 

That I would never give up on you

That I would never stop needing you

That I will be there for you always 

I do know that  when you're sun goes down I will find you a flashlight

I do know that when your world crumbles I'll give ...

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Thanks, Julia, for the vocal

IT'S A HEARTACHE THING (C)M.C. Newberry 2018/2019.

I thought that you'd come back to me when I saw you at the door

I thought that life was looking to be kind

But you told me you'd returned to take what I flung on the floor

You smiled your smile and hoped I didn't mind

It's a heartache thing to understand that you have gone for good

To realise ...

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It

"It” was unable to determine,
why everyone was disgusted on its birth?
Why mother hid "it" from the world?
Why "it" never got affection from elders unlike other kids?
Why world was different for "it"?
Why "it" was molested?
Why "it" becomes the object of cheap humor and lust?
Why "it's" desire to dress up was considered inappropriate?
Why "it" has to suppress the desires?
Why "it" h...

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Drawing in....

Gradually, imperceptibly the nights draw in

they encroach with the chill of winter to foretell

As a blanket they cover a dormant landscape

there is no retreat, no turning back, the die is cast

the rubicon is crossed

Until the Feast of Epiphany we sink into a darkened world

only beyond is the light of a resurrected dawn

A time to slumber, dream, to drink ...

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Some time ago I invented a cocktail:

But -

1) you don't Know the spirit used

2) you don't Know the mixer

3) you don't know the container it comes in

4) you don't know the price

5) you have to drink it outside in the car park

I've named it

"The Brexit"

Words and foto. Tommy Carroll

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What can you do

What can you say

When you see love 

moving away

Will you start a battle 

Will you start a fight

Or will you let her go 

and cry

There she goes 

She’s almost at the door 

Try to call her name 

Maybe sing her a song

Beg her on your knees

Give her flowers, promises 

She looks into your eyes

and gives you one last kiss

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recalling an overwhelming counterpaned severity that year

a lock-in and lock-down instigator

it's knee deep, unadulterated milky blanket restrictions

kept on and on and on adding more and yet more of itself

to the elderlies problem pile

kept on and on adding more and yet more of itself

to the infant's excitement pile

being of neither age

while concerned for the old an...

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Found the day

Sunday,22nd September 2019

Finally, it has found the day

the book is on display

it is like a dream come true

you are all requested to view

I don't know how much I cared about poetry

but went on to write daily

it is almost a decade

now it has found the shade

enlighten me about the book

when you take a little glance

to give me a few wo...

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On the fringes

In and out

     Assaying, Surverying, Contemplating

           Stopping by but never staying

On the outskirts

Here and there

     Wandering, Pondering, Hungering

            For a life that's free of squandering

On the edges

In the fray

     Evermore, Until therefore, On the fringes looking for

           The comfort of an unlocked door

2019

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The exile

    No matter how far

    To the other side of the moon

     if you like

    Sadness follows an exile.

    Never at ease

    Thinking of what is forsaken

    Finding it impossible

    To find the way back home.

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I return to Brighton and I talk to the sea.

This time I am alone, no gangs, only me.

Out of season I tread on pebble and stone.

So disillusioned with life, I wander alone.

I revisit our Café for cups of tea and a pill.

No sound of laughter, just the ring of a till.

Only a few people brave the desolate shore.

A swimmer fights a wave, the rain does pour.

I walk...

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The kind of social order that is set up today, each individual is alone, aloof and struggling to find a perfect relationship. God has made human beings in a way in which we require a social order to live in. the era of today is devoid of all such things which caters to the social, personal and family needs of man. Here is a list of those characteristics and factors that is imperative in building a...

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How monotoned this world would be

If there were no diversity

Everyone harmoniously

Singing a global cantata.

The silver lining would be, of course

There would be no rifts or wars

Everybody would endorse

A universal charter.

But the situation being what it is

A kaleidoscope of ethnicities

A range of personalities

In a world of colour.

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Are we not blessed to follow in Her footsteps,
The steps that stirred the dust in Galilee?
The feet that bring good news of Living Jesus,
The Light of lights arisen in you and me?
Her path is one of peace, of joy, of hope,
Breaching the walls of ignorance and fear,
And leads to the twilit Resurrection Garden,
See in Her embrace the Christ Light now appear; 
Magdalene, you show us this Grea...

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Thorns pierce the skin.
Blood flows into loving eyes.
The screams of the many drown out the righteous.
A slow death awaits this innocent. 

Life ebbs.
Past glories remembered.
Younger days running through summer haze.
Now hanging high for all to see.

Lashed for the ways of this world.
Assault and battery....vicious, insane!
Eyes closing. Heart slowing. 
The end is coming into view.

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A pack a day, I hope way.

A stop sign a quarter of a mile away.

But still the rain doesn't come today.

So I can pray for her way here.

But that day will never come.

For a broken man is only shattered away.

For the day he lost her will always remain.

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When the sun goes down

He rises to sit on his throne

As the darkness engulfs the light

He devours the serenity and purity

Leaving behind stench and ugliness

He gains power through wickedness

All who follow stand in a row

Taking alms of filth and corruption

Spreading havoc and disdainful acts

Enjoying the drinks that loosens mind

Sniffing and puffing doses of insanity

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A butterfly I thought I saw

with snow-like wings the field explore;

the smiling grass you flitted on -

your fragile beauty caught my eye -

I then gave chase – with longing sigh -

but blinked then looked – and you were gone.

A spider in its place I found -

poised motionless; beneath – around -

was spread your soft, alluring web,

which with a thousand charms was wroug...

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There was a young lady called Pat

who gave me a dose of the clap

That's it.

Haven't got time to write any more. Too busy with clinic appointments and injecting antibiotics in my todger. And explaining to my missus.

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You are engulfing me

like fire in a forest,

sweeping everything on its path. 

And I keep running,

Headed in your direction,

Towards the blazing heat that's you. 

Darling,

Although our story is not over,

we will burn this book to the ground. 

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Poem 105 of 230: GLOBAL REGULATIONISM

No income-scale would be unjust -
It’s a matter of degree;
And, to have less inequality,
Regulations are a must.

For, in Millennium’s status quo,
The pay-gaps for human work,
And what’s obtained simply as a perk,
Are wrong - inhumanely so.

(C) David Franks 2003 -
Walkaboutsverse.blogspot.com

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If one should get right up to death's very brink

This is the time to stop and think

'Shall I stay alive or shall I die?'

Though there is no one round to hear this cry.

We are not crazy, bad or weak.

Only to end our pains is what we seek.

Oft we keep these troubles to ourselves

For we feel that no one can be of help.

But whatever there might be ahead

We cannot m...

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1/9 “WE CAN WE WILL”.

To join the Air Cav, was every pilots dream.

The First of the Ninth, they weren’t so keen.

Life expectancy wasn’t very long.

Flying low, to flush out the Vietcong.

Loaches flying at tree top level.

Sold their souls, to the Devil.

Cobra swooping in for it’s kill.

Wiping out all the VC on that hill.

Charlie Troop, are the best of the best.

Better t...

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(Inspired by the findings that dogs have evolved some human facial expressions:

BBC NEWS

Researchers have found that dogs have evolved muscles around their eyes, which allow them to make expressions that particularly appeal to humans. A small facial muscle allows dog eyes to mimic an "infant-like" expression which prompts a "nurturing response".)

Strange, that we should have such an ...

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Those whose business

is all about fracking

Deserve nothing

else but a damn

good sacking 

Spoiling our shoreline 

Don’t give them

more time

To ruin and endanger

Like an evil stranger

In the name of money

For just profits sake

Causing minor earth quakes

So don’t laugh at us or scoff

Just pack up your drills and

FRACK OFF!!

The Urban Poet 2019

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The place where we landed seemed good.
There was water, and food, and air,

but others were there before us,
and they told us we couldn’t stay.

There’s no room here, they said.
We can’t help you.

So we,
the last humans,
went back to our ship
and continued our search
for a home.

(From the pamphlet 'Kiling the Piano', published by Half Moon Books)

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While climbing in the Himalayas,

    To my very great surprise,

I saw a huge and ugly Bigfoot

    Standing there before my eyes.

"Hold on," I cried, "Are not you Bigfeet

     Native to the USA?"

"We are," the monster answered calmly,

    "This is just a holiday."

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True Nature

A wolf howls skywards

To tell the pale, waxing moon

Of the solar death

The raven squawks in flight

As it tells the morning star

Of the sun’s rebirth

A man cries alone

Unaware of dark or light

In his Brexit hell

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Time is of the essence.
Running is bad for our knees and driving
bad for the planet but faster 
and faster we have to go.

Once on the same jet plane
we'll converse above the clouds and laughing
skydive together in contact for more 
than a glancing second.

To speak the truth, break the sound barrier,
see eye to eye at the speed of light,
contemplative hearts over and angain
read all ...

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With tight Puppet Strings, it controls me,

It's iron fists strangle all breath from my lungs 

Its ink black tendrils cover my heart and envelope my mind.

There is no escape. 

I drown with no water about,

My tears come in rivers that stream down my face

and my screams, there in no more horrible a sound. 

My heart bears the pain of a thousand knives 

and my body, no...

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Lover

your love takes my breath away.

I come up for air, and

your kisses breathe life,

and love, into my being.

You clinch me in your embrace:

your love takes my breath away,

smothers me with kisses,

until,

I come up for air, yet again.

Entangled, we cling to one another,

floating on a raft of love.

We are one,

joined,

as one,

always.

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Here where the light shows itself off

a canal turns its back on the buildings

sniffs and moves on,

draws itself into dead ends

doubles back to check bridges

its reflection, its meanderings,

spreads out to tease banks

garlanded, with tresses that tumble,

is pleased with its imperceptible flow

lays on its back in pools of sun

blends into night as dark dreams begin.

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The stones will speak of it
through phones that unclog
static sounds – and yet for
now the images of hungry
lions leashed upon the open
cells where wait inside the
half-starved men and woman
claiming Christ the only King.
I searched the sky to see if I
could find the answer there of
mortals doomed to die in what
they saw as valiant ways to lift
their souls to prophets of their
day and...

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Yes it was pleasant and amazing!

How i was so careless and naive,

And just enjoying my age, my precious times.

My innocence that i dont have to defend.

I go where i want to, I eat and play all day long;

I climbed the mountains, play in the rain;

Build a house in the bush;

Watch my favorite noontime cartoon series at four.

Listen to my grandfather's folk stories on...

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Mini-humans converge
drawn but not defeated by routine.
So much colour,
movement,
noise -
so much future in one place
cannot be discreet.

Suddenly
I understand.
Quarts trapped in pint-pots!
Spirits simply too big
to fit still-growing bodies.
So much lifeforce
escaping -
shouting,
rough-and-tumble,
temper tantrums -
excess leaking from
unfinished containers.

Later, on the tram
I...

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Soft swathes of September wind

stroke my welcoming skin,

its warm touch offers solace

to my stationary form.

A slow slight cadence

and a flighty rhythm,

this wind it soothes me.

Eyes closed shut so tightly

that sleep begins its

slow inward stroll

to silently steal my waking world,

and deliver me to the dream domain

where the calming wind

continues to hold me ...

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