Poetry Blogs


I can't keep moving on 
Days like this I miss you the most
You was my world and now 
The air is burning 

This has been a tragedy
A mind that was by abuse
If I could make you understand 
I before the end I want you to know
It's a bad night again

April time is getting out of the line 
Can you please comeback for me
I don't want to be here anymore
I don't want to be here anymore


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Also by Damon Blackery:

Chapter 2 Mr. Depression and レディ 死 | Chapter 1 Mr Depression Lust | Ghsot | Rotting Into | Corpse | Only Hollow | The Last Chapter | Empty | Burning Bright | Romantically Drifting |

Be Here Now

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Peaceful feeling of realisation, 

creating itself and passing by 

simultaneously in the presence 

of your own inner being. 

Shifting all your senses 

where effort it's meaningless. 

Form and matter untouchable 

In the silence of this space. 

Educated moment of Harmony, 

with out need to remember 

or worry to be forgotten. 

Everything and nothing is 

the structur...

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Also by Artur Hulboj:

We are one! | Silent language | Driven by the moment | Conditional artist | Faith | Transformation | Face of love |

1453-911 NON SERVIAM

Procol Harum’s whiter shade of pale; pretty traces of lace

Reverberate with all opal-sapphire luminosity of these late Romans,

Indigo-dreams now spilt red with gore on this bloody May Day

Negating their absorption into the timeless

Creation of Constantinople’s drift and swell

Elysium’s perfumed garden of lucidity finally broken by

 ...the barbarity of Mehmed’s desecration, his ro...

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Also by John E Marks:

1453-911 NON SERVIAM | Gorffwysfa | When the poet ceases singing | Song for the old year | Carmel |

House of regret

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no more returning

no matter what the voices say

never to drink the same tears

or consume regurgitated  sorrow

I have embraced unwanted ghosts

for the last tormenting time. 

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Also by Jemima Jones:

Long Johns | Advancement | Direction finder | sandwich | in other words | no entry | Indelible stain | when poetry is pushed in to becoming a pain | Importance's |


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A good place to start is Sydney Tower,
With its enthralling panoramic feast:
Olympic grounds - west; to north - the harbour;
And beautiful beaches - north- and south-east.

From what is quite a jumbled C.B.D.,
A good walk is through Botanic Gardens
To the harbour, Opera House, then the Quay -
But other options number in the tens.

(C) David Franks 2003 -

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A winters tale

The coldest winter I've endured

Has shown my colours true

The coldest winter without a friend

The coldest without you 

My mind feels like a winter storm

Because I can't see a thing 

The pain of not talking to you

Feels like winters cold sting 

I walk along the once black path

That is now paved with white

The cold sinks beneath my skin

Like 2 loved ones in a fight 


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Also by Charlotte Bergman:

Dreamless sleep | Broken glass | Song | Just because | Rarest gold | In rhyme | Justine |


Shadow of the sun

is peeping through the window

sending Caribbean heat to my feet

waves splash calling out

to invest in the no judgement zone

it’s my friend with no voice

only a splash of child's play to my face

the wind carries me

as a woman should be cared for and handled gently 

the palm trees bend to converse with me

sharing growth of coconuts with me

secrets o...

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Also by sasha:

Homeless Love | Friendship at the Door | Just Me | Cruel world | First High | Something old Something new | Infection | Coach BS | Cake | Seasons | Personality | Loving a man | Compromise | The Dish |


He wraps me up

in HIS love. 

But my love is not right. 

Not enough he says. 

There's a lock on the outside of the door now. 

Too much, too much,


Hit the road Jack!

He's out the door 

and I don't miss him.

The young girl pushes the screen bent 

and jumps out the window.

I wince in preparation for her crumpled body. 

But she's a cat 

and lands soft...

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Also by JfingHendrix:

little boys in little girl sweaters | Peace! | for now | (in)decent exposure |


self love

Jellicle Identity

Jellicle Cats with their three names

The Common
The Unqiue
The Label

The I in which no one but "I" would know. A self inscribed name tag collar wrapped 'round in my keyboard cutthroat self inflicted mental recognition.


The Gay One?
The Stupid One?


Pollicle Dogs, with their bark BARK BARKING up and down t...

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Connor LannesIdentitythought

New Beginnings



It is time for Renewal and Rebirth!

The shedding of habits, worry, and fear

Letting go will put my mind at ease.

I no longer want to feed stress and self doubt,

In the corners of my mind they disappear.


I wash away the negativity,

I wash away the pain,

I wash away the regret,

My goal is no longer to please.

My heart will no longer hurt,

I will put mysel...

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Self love

Ocean Affair


I can't wait to see u again

My love


Equally excited and terrified by your might

I eagerly await you


Where the waves meet the shore

I will be with you

Once more



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Also by Wardah:

Trapped in the Abyss of Life |

Warm smile

Coal-warmth creates ease from eve-gloom

drizzle-wind, frost and face-sting skin-pierce

driven-drizzle blast weather.

Thermal ticks of stove-warmtn metal-clicks

promise heat and unguent to pink-red


The afternoon's gone, the light's fading fast.

Damp wool and sodden fleece

tell of walking in the wilds.

The dog's mud-caked and happy to be free,

for shrieks o...

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Also by Rich:

Festival Fun | Common Ground |

Speak to me , Hope.

Hope exclaimed "Life is a canvas painted in black and white"
"You my friend stuck in the strands of plight"
"Wait oh Dear! Let the dawn untangle and bring delight" 

Oh, no Hope! "I can wait no more for my silver armoured Knight"
"I no longer have the courage to fight"
"nor stand against my brutal fate's might!"

Oh, my dear! "You are in the twilight of a daunting night"
"Only Out of dark...

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Childhood in the Woods


golden hours stretched 

over cottontails 


senses engaged 

without words to say 


feelings make marks

in dirt with rubber boots


play never leaves us 

we leave this place


you decide at once 

you’re an adult


you forget these 

pleasures and pains


sadness and longings

of childhood 


replaced with distaste

for children of...

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Also by Robert C Gaulke:

Am Wasser gebaut | Emanuelle Can’t | Pink Money | Rare | Meeting People Upside Down | New |


I’d never trust their tridents since a profession matters when passion doesn’t and empowers too,

Monsters crushed into diamonds as their reflection shatters the glass in front of it to devour you,

Now with the syllabus scary and promised with the sun pouring pieces on stones for throwing hegemony,

How is the military a hostage when it’s the one storming villas and overthrowing democracies...

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Also by Big Sal:

Faith (For the Voters) | The Showing Shores of Mercy | Absolution Inters the Peace | Goodness for All |

The Englishman Made Himself A Shed


The englishman made himself a shed
where his specialism was refined
the young lady also specialised 
their common ground was never mind
and how they concurred, how their bounderies
were blurred- it's not for us to say
most subtle shades in truth emerge
on the foggiest, foggy day

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Also by Adam Whitworth:

Drunken Sailor | workinprogress | Sea City |

An act of kindness


The vagrant sits in splendid isolation

at a window seat in the finest establishment.

Fingerless mitts, their fingers dipping the sugar bowl

black nails on flame blue claws. 


The moat of horror extends around him

a three meter exclusion zone,

imposed by instinctual repulsion

half sympathetic faces avert their eyes.


He stares toward the street, his home


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Also by Wolfgar:

Serpentine | At Anchor | Posthumously Paris | Zero six thirty 4 Jan 18 | Everything a note | Visitations |

Once upon a time in Princes gate when I saw heroism in full magnificent flow

entry picture

on that day

when hope was falling

at the hour

when the iron lady's

patience died

stepped up each

to his elite calling

trained to dare

to protect our pride.


Their performance

kept the whole world's

breath suspended


we heard the BOOMS!

the rapidity of fierce gunplay

by Bob and the black-clad boys

was the 'game' soon ended


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unsure prodigal | on hearing a memory | me-an ugly and crap harmonica player | oh! the poor little rapists lets not forget THEIR rights! | unfocused | going with the grain in more than one way ( an anti-plastic poem) | Nature in the dock | my unhappy bunny | lamenting good and bad intentions | march of the Paedo's | for the cuckoo land tourist | haikube |

a kind of loving

A Kind of Christmas


Screaming voices a decorated tree flew

though the open French window.

In the bedroom, a woman cried, in the basement den a man

sat with a bottle of whisky, the children

sat in the living room eating sweets and waited

for the storm to blow over.

It was like this every Christmas, it was so much better

when they both went to work when the parents had a...

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Also by jan oskar hansen :

unpainted canvas | my mother and Bambi | Alternative saga | Alfred out fishing | a shitty place | death before the Eve | night frost | A Female Santa | Me Too! | January 2018 |

Winter (Australia)

This poem recalls a certain zeitgeist I detected during benign winter days spent in my adopted home town of Perth many years ago; lassitude, provincialism, an inclination towards fatalism, perhaps merely bourgeoise self-satisfaction. It did not survive the new century, needless to say.

Winter (Australia)

Come here & listen:

-  Winter -

slithering on grit-sand moved

by swathing waves...

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Also by Chris Hubbard:

The Voyager's Song | The Illusionist | The Mirror | Brother | The City of God | The Goddess is Dancing | Retrospective | The Meaningless Surface of Life | Waterstick | Quiet Rooms | Test Firing | Distant Windows |

Twisted Irony

I knocked on the door,

Not expecting an answer

Much less to be received


So when he opened up in contour,

Spoke with me without waver

I conversed to be believed


Me, nothing less, nothing more

Me, not me minus the stutter

And if not all of me, still, me


Should he shut the door,

I’d think, “it’s what I would prefer”

For I knew not of joviality



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Also by Isurugi Noe:

Life Span | Impressive (haiku) | What You Left Me | Know (haiku) | Attention | Power | Caged | Not the One | Confidence in a Man |



Swinging Girl

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Swinging girl under the shelter
Swinging all the time... 
Coming back to the shelter,
But again in the sun..

Smiling with the golden..
Golden the sun..
Get golden her fingers 
But burn through the fun...

She loved that pretty golden,
Heaven under the sun...
Coming back to the shelter 
But again in the sun...


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Again and again and again!

There’s ice on the stairs again

and a chill in my heart

I ache in the head again

as you set to depart,

you’ve burnt out my eyes again

with your withering stare

I’m scorched, charred and black again

blind, naked and bare,

you say we’ll converge again

that our pathways will meet

should our senses collide again

along the same street,

I’d be a fool to believe again


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Also by Graham Sherwood:

Tansaku | Abracadharma | Cranford Finale | White Lights | Taste the Day |

Toad In My Garden

One morning in my garden - as the mist

dissolved – a thousand apples ripe and gold

I eager saw, that hung from boughs of gold.

I pondered which to eat, when through the mist -


there squatting in the stiff and frozen grass -

I saw a thing – still as the dead – a toad.

For long I rooted stood, until that toad

suddenly fled, and hid within the grass.


Though then I co...

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Also by Chris Laverty:

A Night On The Moors |


toad in my garden poem chris laverty

We love Manchester

We love Manchester hear us all say,

We love Manchester,let us all pray,

For the lives lost in this sad city scare,

For the injured survivors ,pray soon to repair.

We come together stronger than before.

Much stronger than the perpetrators who crept through our door.

We are all the same people and shed similar blood.

As the tears down our cheeks painfully flood.

For the injur...

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Under the silks

inside the wardrobe

lies the magic:

a key without an answer

a bell without a caution

a home without a door.


All together

the spells are cast.


Just believe.

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Also by Douglas MacGowan:

DNA Test | Legacy | a (hopefully) funny poem for Edward Gorey | Happiness | Mea culpa | TRAVERSE | FOUR | The Grey Boy | The Beautiful Men | FIVE |


It must have felt, to you,

like I stole something

from under your bed

or the boot of your car.

Control is like a drug

driving everything,

shooting everyone

and only reviving

those that take it in

correct doses. Hard 

work weighing those

packages, distributing to

only those I trust and 

know can handle it's

potency. I built up my

knowledge and resistance


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Also by Natfastic:

Endings | Kaleidoscopic | I feel you | Transition |

Egg Fooyung

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I look at you.
You look at me.
Your eyes reveal a heartfelt plea.

The egg that's smashed,
Now oozes out
Upon the kitchen tiles and grout.

You sweep a beat
With rhythmic rear,
And cock a hopeful floppy ear.

My heart; it melts,
As from your nose,
A dewdrop dangles unopposed.

I step away,
As herebefore,
The mess is lapped up from the floor.

Your service done,
With willing to...

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Also by Jonathan Humble:

Fireweed |


I tend to suspect the stuff we're told

About Health Care woes being down to the old;

Those who steadfastly paid their tax

While others get treated off their backs:

Alkys, druggies, and malingerers who

Install themelves in the NHS queue.

The old would rather be off their trolley,

Installed in beds bought by their lolly,

Before being placed in proper care

For those who've ...

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Also by M.C. Newberry:

A Minister for the Lonely? |


entry picture

(A Greatest Hit from my back catalogue.  An enormous nod to Robert Johnson and Elmore James)


I want a WriteOutLoud woman to do anything in the world for me

I want a WriteOutLoud woman to do anything in the world for me

She could lick my piece into shape; I mean my poetry.


I’d take down her pantoums and jiggle her spondees for fun

She’d mouth both my rondels and my phaleuci...

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Also by John Coopey:




The small voices that travel with the wind 


They carry news, stories, and secrets.


Good and bad. Happy and sad. 


Ready to travel again.


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Also by Abi Morris:

The Barn | Freedom | Perfect Imperfections | Amour Brisé (Broken Love) |

Planet Of The Vapes

i had to step off the beaten path
for pavements less travelled
energy can in my hand
revitalised i felt like a man
a man..clutching an energy can in his hand..

stopped dead in my tracks i was
tenderly floored
self-intoxicated aromas punch-drunk themselves a blizzard 
not a little bewildering 
brimming olfactory slam-dunk explosions 
from wither they emanated i did not know
but i had t...

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Also by Suki Spangles:

Happy New Year!? |

Forgive him (Mr X) Father

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who gets in his own in his own way

who makes his own life darker and darker

who cannot stop the rot of his soul from setting in

who allows his enemies to live in his head

who thinks he is the chosen one

who is not able to stop worrying and really learn to love life


for he knows not how to put an end to his masochistic ways.

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Also by Rose Casserley:

and they call this SPORT! | snobby brother | my goodbye friend | strange singer | heartistically | New Years dishonoured list | one HELL of a mistake |

Your Unread Letter.

Your very first
My most important

Your hand
My thumb
You held it so tight
I couldn't hold my tears

Every night
To make sure you're fed

My side
Her side
You in the middle
Across from your neglected crib

Left foot
Right foot
Your first steps
Corners were quickly covered

Fast forward
Slow down
You're getting so big
I always did my very best

She yelled
I ...

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Also by Nick:

No Questions Answered. | Tiny Round Friends. |



The dream I knew


Flower's adorning that backyard... 

And it was me standing on the balcony... 

Waiting for someone I know... 

And he would appear soon across those trees of mahagony... 


Fragrances and clouds were all I remember... 

And that was when,  my heart starts beating faster.... 

How much I was in love I still wonder... 

Is it just a dream that flashes in my sleep every night ...

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Also by Shruti:

Highway 39 | Sleepless Nights | Dissolve in the air | Mystery behind the scene | The Silent Scream |

Dead Wood

Dead wood, no good.

Get rid of the dead 

wood that won’t burn 

like wet yew branches.

People are dead wood,

like soul callouses.

They cling to you,

bring only judgement.

Spouting forth sin,

or their own piss;

its all the same

when you don’t drink it.

They call you wrong,

say you are useless, 

no use for burning.

I smack the dead wood

out of my life,


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We fell apart so effortlessly.

Like snowflakes from a cloud.

We looked like we were floating,

but reality was the ground.


We came to pieces.

Like leaves withering in fall.

Our hearts and our heads,

got mixed up in it all.


We lost our color.

Like paint drying in the sun.

We didn’t mix the right way,

thus the breaking had begun.


Is this a sad story?


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Also by Sarah Mae:

The Potential for Light |


I've got quite a collection of regular likers,

my pockets are full of bad dreams,

some of them mucky from dust therein,

but all highly flavoured if you know what I mean?


Bodily fluids, orifices,

always good for the mind to dwell on;

best out in the open is what I say;

if you write with hatred that's A OK. 


Never mind the shit that keeps flowing, 

it's just anot...

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Also by ray pool:





People everywhere are becoming fearful

distrustful of others, even of those who are close

The world is filled with dread

communities have become fragmented

The tree of life has been ravaged

fruit, leaves and branches lay scattered

Only the trunk remains with its bark stripped

many have withdrawn into their personal hermitages

Loved ones offer some sense of s...

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Also by keith jeffries:

The Two Valleys | Loneliness | Enraged | Nightfall |

An ash goes wandering - again

A splash of scattering wind wags the brittle stalks of winter bleached grasses

and sends bald tree tops sweeping slow arcs against the cloud dashing sky.

The old ash behind me breathes easy with the slow dozing rhythm

of these waiting and watching January woods.

Snowdrops gather to whisper secret stories,

mythical tales of springtime’s approach,

while the deeper digging roots


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Also by David T Jones:

A triumph |

As the crow flies

Fate casts the die

As the crow flies

in my mind

The world meanders 

towards my fall

To where;

 the crow,can never fly

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Grey Moon | Deeper | Dead Anger Haunts | Lamp | Sound in the silence |

Duping the duper

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Sly pretentions hid in

the words given to this my heart

she thought captured

that it would foolishly believe

were messengers of love.


Her intentions glazed with skilful deception

and perceptions of my enslavement to her foolery

I thought deemed to be poorly schooled in the art of defence against manipulation.


How deviously she had sighted my inner lonelinesse...

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Also by Patricia and Stefan Wilde:

HEY LOOK! ITS US ON HERE ENJOYING OURSELVES AGAIN/ AWHILE! | makings of a lone wolf | Mr Dark and I | precious number nine | trainee shopper | my disappearing role in disappearances | in corridors of after light |

Story of Night

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So you are lost in dreams so deep whole night

And I long to hear phone's beep whole night


At dawn, I realised, my awakening

Though my destiny remained asleep whole night


I know the remedy, I know the toxin..

What to lose, and what to keep whole night


She might have waited for me to take her back

This is what made me to weep whole night


Sharafat, night is...

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Also by Mirza Sharafat Hussain Beigh:

I Call Him Azrael | Revenge | A Visit To Graveyard | Words About To Break | Scattered Beauty | Invaded Identity |


asleepawakebeepdeeplovemirza sharafatphone


entry picture

Battling with the inner me and the outer me

Who I am on the inside is starting to bleed out





Believing in me has slowly drifted away

My heart is beating slowly

The love I have for me has changed most days I don’t know who I am

When I look in the mirror I don’t see the beauty anymore I see the things that I have issue with the things that...

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Also by Saniya:

Over It |



CHOOSE LIFE, choose getting fired, choose beating the system, fucking the system, fuck the system. Choose office politics, small talk, polite talk. Signing birthday cards for people you don’t even like. Choose snacking because you are bored, eating cake because it’s there.  Filling up the coffee machine, smiling once you’ve done it. Choose getting praise for work you hate, hating work for peo...

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#society #work #system #happy #rules #life


And when the flowers die

Leaving empty space in the air

That their perfume full filled.

When colour,

Vital as life itself,

Departs my eyes for good,

My thoughts return to hedgerows.

Wandering fields from whence love began,

And I will hold your hand, even in death.

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So, what the hell are we all supposed to do?  Well.... nothing.  Not do a single friggin' thing.  Because thinking that we are all out to get each other only makes us want to get at each other. Stop worrying, and start appreciating.  That's the only way out of this mess.  Care more about other people than yourself.  Stop taking everything personally. Stop believing politicians.  Stop buying boxed ...

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In rich new fields of untouched lush greenery 

I shall drag the old dead cow with me

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Also by Ria Richardson:

Boxes of life | my dreams |

(a beginning

and while they kiss

(and what a Kiss,

a kiss to send atoms spiralling,

luminousStars above) the world ends

and ends around their feet (her reds

on his browns, the better to reach)

the collision of planets (like lips,

like feet,

hers red his brown) StarLights

the night sky white

until nothing never moves no-more

SadSad they kiss

FeetLips dissolve

the great (di...

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Also by Stuart Buck:

me and Annie (or is it Annie and i) (or poem which succeeded a period of time in which i only read e.e. cummings) | jocasta awakens from a dream |

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