Seasonal Bliss

Seasonal Bliss

The days pass by

Very little has changed

You marked my whole world

Showed me more than the grey


All I have are the memories

All the good times


You showed me who i was

The me I want to be

I just want to go back

And live it one last time


It happened again

You came then you went

The days are getting shorter

The further you get


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no particular stylepoem

And he never woke up

Did the road run out?

did the next corner turned

offer the same skyline?


Or did your courage falter?

did a little voice 

turn you homeward?


To certainty,

to boredom,

back to the start.


Where that same little voice

first spoke to you,

and tricked you into recklessness.


Where it promised you adventure’s

in exotic wanderings,

and stole you...

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Also by Wolfgar:

Fidelis ad mortem | Reflecting on an equinox | Sunflower | The Wetherspoon supporters club (tongue very much in drunken cheek) | Hole | Maquis | A storm without an ark | Youths blind vanity lost | Carousel | Seminal work | The Superintendent | Sons of Leicester | A full disclosure of injuries sustained | Dilemmas diluted | Feeding the monster | November 2016 (may be deemed offensive by those from delicate constitutions) | Truce |




Wild eyed, crashing midst the spectral trees,

As mournful howl drifts on the breeze;

Gasping as she runs in fright,

Through dark and dread-filled night,

To escape the fear;

Becoming clear;

Stalking near;

Not dreams,


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Also by Trevor Alexander:

Life | Memory | Cricket | Bletherin’ On Cricket | Cardiac Case | Late Sailing | Home | ‘Oh’ Level French | Lost Love | Writer’s Block | A Bee Or Not A Bee | Stormy Beach | Choices | Thoughts | Life’s Highway |




Not the overexposed, unwanted guest
who outstays his welcome, the forebear
who is taking familial shape in the corner
in a coming together of shadows and mist.

Nor even the third man on your shoulder
as you reach the pole or gain the summit,
and not the specious exhalations of spirit
in those gas-lit, overburdened parlours.

Ignore the widows’ running mascara,
as they stand in sepulchr...

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RIGHT TURN by Richard Seymour

The following lines were written many years ago when this country faced decisions that

affected its future survival.  Post-Brexit, they have a very contemporary resonance.


Though Britannia rules exalted

In our heartfelt hymns of praise

Now we see her standing halted

At the parting of the ways.


To her left a road des...

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Also by M.C. Newberry:




see how they flood with tears


tides of man

hopes, fears

the same the world over


but there is so much sand in this bright land

and grit,

determination to split

and exploit a divided nation.


So let's play with bombs

instead of spades

look down like children,

let's be Gods!


Rip up the sand from our castles

in the air,


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Also by ray pool:



air war

think.....WIDE BERTH!

entry picture

opinionate zilch of this lout!

bet your life he thinks F.A of you,since

the pug faced thug,chinwagging mostly

in criminality,would rather die,than,

adopt your respectabilty,or

include your down-nosed higher views

in his off-road conversations


except maybe,to spare a filthy expletive,should you approach

-an expletive which,is not hard to explain

in view of the patron...

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Also by Rose Casserley:

noise as a memory |

so kiss me, hold me and eat me


i would be good for eating

it started innocently enough

a bite of the lower lip

stretched just that touch too far

a nibble on the neck that left a muted firework of blood blisters for the rest of the day

the teeth marks you left in my index finger as i explored your mouth


you would be good for eating

it shifted so subtly that we barely noticed

like the gradually d...

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Also by Stuart Buck:

anhedonia | the moon | snowflake 3 | snowflake 2 | snowflake | endgame | klittra | the man that swallowed the sky | the churning of the ocean of milk | liquid gold | lemonade | infinity | dont know when but a day is gonna come | oh dear oh dear | the man stood in the corner of the room | dunes | basquiat | lime | another day, another gin | cloak | dirge |

How can I praise my love in bare words?

How can I praise my love in bare words?
Will they describe the tenderness of glances?
Will they explain why am I never bored,
Although my heart is taken as a ransom?
What words can rightly serve the very love
That blends respect, desire and attachment?
When one can feel as heavenly betroth'd,
The only pain is moment of departure. 
Yet, I attempt expressing this in words,
As humble s...

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changing world

Changing  world




Where the woods of unruly domestic trees on

The other side of the road has not always been there

It used to consist of small homesteads and poverty

People left for France or America never came back   

Nature moved back and trimmed olive trees and

Carob trees took on a surreal form the undergrowth

Was left to grow a paradise for animals and birds


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Also by jan oskar hansen :

the president | nature wonders | tropical island | the sea of the forgotten | in Paris | once a seafarer | the optimist | human maggots | melancholy | warming of the planet | sisterly love | for a few lovers more | saintliness | haiku 3 of them | surprise | forgotten history | der spiegel | social media | bed time | sexual love | the peace process | random journey | simplicity |

The Invisible Gift

In our hand we hold a gift

A gift that is invisible to the naked eye

This gift is malleable for we shape it from the inside

Our gift was given at the beginning of our time

We shape our gift throughout time

The gift grows through the hardest of times

Our gift rewards us with the best of times

This gift can make things feel hard at times

Sometimes we resent our gift for it do...

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Also by Jacob Martin:

Barriers | A Thorn Left Inside |


BB says as she puts on her face,

"have a wonderful day."


tell me, BB,

what's happened to my data--

the breach i cannot sew

your all knowing eye is blind

to your mistake

you spread your gaffe as fact

and the populace shouts your glory


they need your word

to fill the gaps

yet I know your fraud

and only smile back

for I know that I am

the wr...

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Also by elPintor:

muddy water, verdant earth | tracker | before I learned mechanics, I learned to mistrust the mechanic | night vision | traveller's token | equalization | metaphysics |


identity theft

Lovers to Friends

Sitting here with my thoughts that this was our last kiss
A tender wet exchange of these now estranged lips
Feeling a bit awkward after ending our trips
Final lovers goodbye, the tenderness of bliss

Can we exchange our loves into a rooted friendship
One in which we share laughs but not be intimate
Taking a sidestep role in her happiness state
And grabbing my own life and make this distinc...

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Also by Louis Audet:

Pleasure | Small pets | Tightness | Mr Fantismo and his carpet | Mr Fantismo and his unicorn | Being grandma | Pig thoughts | Her back | The burger | Deafness | Centerpiece | The book ending | Bright Star | A blooming book | Truce | The hump | Tonight? | The Farmer | You | Shower Away | Sundae | Crisis | Advice from Dad | Poneytail | Separation | Parking Lot | The stalker | Young coeds | Forest survival | Finding love after | Live for today | Frat party | Darkness follows | Let's hope for peace | The Bridge | First Night | Breaking the cave |


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(Just returned from another splendid holiday down there)


There’s few other places that I’d rather be

Than Milford, New Milton or Barton-on-Sea

On a warm sunny day as the wind gently lifts

The smell of the sea from the shore up the cliffs;

You might catch a glimpse of a buzzard or two

Spiralling thermally if no breezes blew,

Wheeling and mewing and quartering around


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Also by John Coopey:





I stood in the fire today waiting for it to rain.

My bitter contemplation, rude awakening-

The soothing of my blistered and mutilated skin.

My love, my bitterness-

The excrement sitting at the floor of my conscience.

The healing of internal lacerations that must be seen to be believed.

I stood at the ocean’s edge under a scarlet moonlit sky,

Sweet liber...

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Also by alseau nonas:


A Night At The Astoria

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By concrete honey-combed Centre Point
Briskly paced towards Soho
Passing illuminated tooting taxis
Striding down the Charing Cross Road
To join a queue of  alternatives
Outside the stuccoed dome crowned bay
Under the fretted signage board
Spelling the name of the band who’ll play
Tonight, at the Astoria

Earnest in Camden High Street fashion
Invested Kensington Market attire
Sticky carpe...

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Also by Anna Ghislena:

Sorrento |




Where certain things are concerned

our fleeting impasse

cries for help like a drowning child

a frenzied but short lived affair

before a millpond calm returns

to cloak the drama hidden underneath.

So, as we sit peacefully

both knowing, that

corpses eventually surface

to create a far more serious maelstrom,

we hurriedly gather rocks,

not for ammunition,

for ballas...

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Also by Graham Sherwood:

Road Trip | Roller Coastal | We? | Quest-ion |

Haiku Collection #7

to my amazement
a stone hung in the sky -
who could help but weep?
a smile in response-
the voyaging moon becalmed
in this child's spy-glass
grace in high relief
realised by partial sunlight:
phase after phase 
grown old and faded,
children's drawings under dust-
the moon has a face.
swift through the branches,
slow across the milky way,
faithfully, the moon.


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Also by Adam Whitworth:

haiku Collection #6 | Haiku Collection #5 | Haiku Collection #4 | Haiku Collection #3 | Haiku Collection #2 |



That Time of Life

I’m content with my lot

In these senior days.

Not a care in the world,

‘Til a friend of mine says

“Och you look really grand,

And you don’t act your age”,

Then I think to myself

Am I now at that stage?

That point in one’s life

Where it all goes to hell;

When you’re over the top,

And no-one will tell

That your best days have passed

But they’re far too polite,


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PMWS Notes

Cut from the stem, his destiny set

Beauty desired but short before death

Though death been determined, his fate and his fall

His happiest hour befell on them all


Needles and shoelaces, needles and thorns

Need needles to sew up their broken hearts torn

And needles to stich up the city they live in

The city of thorns from captors unforgiven


His highness, his finest,...

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Also by H. Rose Dawson:

It's My Turn Now | Hey Abriella | Monsters in the Closet | At least I'm not swinging | Mornings on Shift | Ladders | Trenches | 24 (raw, unedited) | Escape | Restlessness | Factor III "Tired" | AA | Atlantis | Dance | Hypervigilance |

Truth comes and Goes


"Ana uhibbuk" you said

"It means I love you"

Am I supposed to tell the kids that?

And we laughed it off...


I was surprised 

But not shocked

Because I felt it too

But when will it be true?


"I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression"

I apologized profusely

Embarrassed to the core

"It's okay! Misunderstandings happen" you said

But when will your w...

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Also by Wardah:

Musings of a Restless Mind | Inner Workings of my Soul | Misunderstandings of the Heart |

In defence of sentiment (and dialogue)

"Well, Jo, what is the matter? Don't be frightened."

"I thought," says Jo, who had stared and is looking around, "I thought I wos in Tom-all-Alone's again. Ain't there nobody here but you, Mr. Woodcot?"


"And I ain't took back to Tom-all-Alone's. Am I, sir?"


Jo closes his eyes, muttering, "I'm wery thankful!"

After watching him closely for a little while, Allan put...

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Also by John Marks:

AMHARIC | Lost and Found and Round and Round. | The cherry tree |

I Have Never Drunk Spoons

For sixth form socialist internationalist reasons
Too stupid to mention
Like TTIP asset stripping our NHS
I voted Leave
Yes I confess
I voted Leave
I'm a scumbag
And that is all there is to it
As simple as that

Bring back hanging
Swing me upside down from my gentleman's bits
Roast me on a fiery unforgiving spit
But please know this
As you turn me screaming beneath a baleful...

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Also by Suki Spangles:

Meanwhile, In Sweden | Hillary Clinton 9/11 Haiku | I Am A Blog Poet (God Save The Queen Blog Poem) |



humorous poetrylyricspolitical satirepost-rock poetrysatirical poetryspoonsSuki Spangles

"First Love"

We were teenage innocents

Love birds

Learning the language of

Love words


Huddled close against the winter chill

Holding hands in the shelter

Watching for her last bus

The nine o five

Three four seven

To turn from Lord Street, Southport

Onto Marine Drive 

To swallow her away

Home to Rufford,

near Ormskirk,



Wanting it to come soon…


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Also by Rick Gammon:

"Meeting Mrs Potiphar" | "Caz - End of the Affair" | "Travails in Orkney" | "Donegal Eden" | "Let's All Go to Lisdoonvarna" | "Mally" | "Obituary" | "Apitate Ring" | "Alison" | "Adieu" | "On Leaving Dublin - Bloomsday plus one" | "Cuddles" |


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Poem 36 of 230:  WALKABOUT MEXICO 

In late December,
I can remember
    Being in a fix -
For time and pesos -
    And, thus, unable
To see Mexico’s
    Sights commendable.

So, in Tijuana,
    I enjoyed the show
At a miniature
    Model Mexico. 

(C) David Franks 2003 -

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The Compulsive Liar

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Spin me more

lies in your web

of deceit.

Sitting there


lying through

your teeth.


I often


why you

hide behind

those lies that 

you spin.

A cowardly,


fake piece

of skin.


Lying words,

spinning round

and round

in a web

of deceit.

Living a 


imaginary life

of make believ...

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Also by Emer Ní Chorra:

Experience | The Silent Treatment | Hurt, Heal And Repeat | True Colours | Desire | The Fall | The Strong One | My Love | 19 | Love And Trust | Daddy didn't raise a hoe | The Observer |

The Painted Lady

entry picture

White canvas face

naked skin awaits.


A slight brush

light powder puff.


Smooth red lipstick

sparkling blue eyes.


Intriguing watchful look

black eyelashes flutter.


A golden smile

meets my gaze.


As I approach

rainbow door opens.


Loving sunlight dreams

head over heels.


Aspiring  lovers complete

My painted Lady.

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Also by Nigel Astell:

Lord Dominus | Steamy Windows |


She brings the colour back into my life.

Unelectable, Ineluctable

To be sung to the tune of

Land of Hope and Glory


Dear Land of Hope, with hope th’art crowned,

Tha wilt be mightier yet!        

On Tyranny Britannia’s frowned,

Justice, our goal, is set.

Unequal laws, have Freedom stained,

Have ruled us ill, done wrong,

Through Freedom gained, and Truth maintained,

The People shall be strong.


Liberal and Red-Tie Tory, you ar...

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The Mirror

Were there a mirror for what eyes can't see -

one made to show reflections of the soul,

where the warmth of lies can not console -

then might our life together peaceful be.

Once, I remember, I did in dream foresee

that I this mirror from the heavens stole;

enraged, I threw it when I saw my soul -

but it cracked not - yet fragments left of me.

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Also by Chris Laverty:

The Eruption |


the mirror poem chris laverty



On getting up one morning 
God walked to the pearly gate
 and enquired of Michael his doorman
 how's it going mate?
I'm absolutely knackered, and wish you'd investigate.

Never known it be this busy before
 them coming up here to Heaven
swept off me feet trying to greet,
 everyone twenty four seven.
The flow is overwhelming, we need cupboards and extra shelving.
But I have a sugges...

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nothing enigmatic about this


Save clean water because it scarce 
Protect what you breath like clean air
World has food but to some it is rare
You are blessed to have this all, you have no idea

Society lose happiness, no one would care
One forgets to smile but you still stare
People struggle with their own number of enough scare
You become one to them, now that is not fair 

Have you ever produce water or clean air?

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Also by Ruvi Galhena:

my Poem |


Find your purpose 

Color your way through life

the outlines is what holds your sanity 

beyond that is out of your control 

every color stands on its own 

It has always been me myself and I, 

do not live for people but for you

and your happiness 

find you purpose 

life is too short on dwelling on things

that has happened already 

-Khadja G 

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I fear the darkness for it harbors all the evil I cannot see.
The unseen assailant following the breadcrumb trail in the shadows.
When I walk alone at night my shadow keeps me company. The shadow sometimes runs as I still walk slowly. In the shadows he runs; slowly, our shadow begins to bleed more darkness.

The house of a friend is nearby, I imagine as I crawl bleeding. The...

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Remember Me


Remember me?

Sure you do.

Lets see.


You're so tired again,

Thats when you knew I was here.

You didn't want to get out of bed today,

Haha oh dear.



I know you don't like my presence.

But I'm here for a bit,

It doesn't have to make sense.


I've been so faithful,

Don't you know?

I'm here for you when others aren't,

don't say it isn'...

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depression helpless hopeless self-destruction

Do you see me, too?

Trevor, I saw you again—

I saw you sitting at the desk right beside me in Mr. Tracey’s seventh-grade homeroom,

Filled with twenty unhygienic twelve-year-old students. It smelled of strong coffee in a thermal.

A clock rests above the door. It ticks away the moments.


You were wearing that ratty brown zipper-up you liked so much.

The one that smelled as if it hadn’t seen the insid...

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Also by Kelly:

Waiting on flowers | Survival |


friendsfriendshipmiddle schoolYoung Love

F34r Th3 Numb3r5

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F34r Th3 Numb3r5



Th3 numb3r5


th31r p0w3r

t0 pu5h y0u

1nt0 rush1n9


Cl0ck w4tch1n9


Th3 numb3r5

On th3 5p33d0meter

0r ch451n9

A bu5



Fr0m p1ll4r

t0 p05t


g3tt1n9 w319h3d





Th3 c0d1n9

1n y0ur c0mput3r

Wh1ch dr1v35

Y0ur l1f3


B1n4ry ch1ld


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Also by Ian Whiteley:

black clouds on a sunny day | Black Bear |


codedehumanlisingloss of identitymodern worldnew identitynumbers

The End of Summer Book

Dear all;

A few of you all know I bought out my second full length book 'The End of Summer' last year as a low key, print on demand run.

My publisher for my third full length collection 'From the Diabetic Ward' has agreed to reprint it on the 14th October 2016 and it can be picked up at

anybody who wants a copy for press...

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Also by Andy N:

Past Lives (A Series of journeys from past lives) |

Tears for the overlooked

Days fullness of gestures

gleams of meanings

sudden uprisings of rememberings

words and actions take flight

crossing space and time

tranced by listenings

to the manuscripts of the mind

stirred by song and story.

But oh!

the centuries of nights!

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Also by Jemima Jones:

outing | costume change |

Angry Beast

I don't know where to start

These feelings in my heart

I keep haven't been able to release

These feelings rise but get trapped like a beast


I want to show you my world from within

The scenery is changing

The door’s knocking

I want you to come in


Let it out, You know I should

Let it out, If only I could

Let it out, You know I should

Let it out, If only I c...

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Also by Kimberly Ray:

It's all good | Oh happy day | Crashing | Hush | What is love | All that remains | Feeling Again | Let Me Live | On a winter night | Just Be | Imagine | Closer | Lemonade | Nights | Desires | Devil dancer | Run | Where are you? | It's a mystery | Me | Dangerous Intelligence | Traveling down the road of life | Untitled | March 15, 2002 | Release Me | Constant Replay | Sunday July 14, 2002 | Motivation | Friday July 12, 2002 | Morning Sun | Puzzle pieces of my heart | Red in bloom | Drowning into your possession | What really matters | Your kiss | Drowning | Love Spent | Sweet dagger of mine | Wasting away | Love dreams | Precious moments | Villianous Love | Friend or Foe | Wounded heart | Archaeology of St Lucia | Soft sea of regret | Silence grows | There's so much more than this | A crack in the wall | What was I thinking | OK | Please don't make me think | Surf City | In the dead of Winter | Chasing love | What do you want | Just Words | Oblivion | Peace of mind | Simple | Beautiful People | Losing a friend | Into the infinite abyss |

Autumn at the SoapBox Poetry Club

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Summer has passed and autumn is rolling in - which means the SoapBox Poetry Club is back. Our regular poetry night held at the John Peel Centre, on the last Wednesday of the month, features a nationally renowned poet as a headliner, two local poets and one musician in support. We book exciting, passionate and political young poets. Those at the forefront of poetry in the UK. The kind of writers an...

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Let the Bone-Fire Burn!

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I'm speaking and performing some poems tomorrow in Manchester after a march as part of both the Global March for Elephants and Rhinos, and 100 Thousand Poets for Change. If you'd like to take part we're assembling in All Saints Park, Manchester at 11.30am. Or look on the Global March for Elephants and Rhinos website, and there may be something going on in a city near where you are. I've written th...

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This is me (a warrior)

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I am the undecided

the uncondemed

the umbrage of life


you see in me a warrior

who never thinks of backing down

tributing to the society 

had only made me tumble down


unaided I stand

stronger than ever

tranquil is what I am

but will soon transient 

for I am a warrior 

stronger than thee

thou shall not make me bow down

thou shall not make me crumbl...

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Speak to me like you speak,
in tongues, or in plain old English
dusted with a view of sparkly seas
or oceans, as you say, my owl.
My crow, my dove, my dolphin
plunging among the waves that roughen,
among the sands that graze and toughen
your skin and hair but soul untouched. 
Tell me of the call you heard
from a distance, from the depths 
of blue or green or blackened water,
the rover, ...

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escapeoceanromantic distance lovesea

Penguins on Parade

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Willi Ronis


Although they hanker still

for desolate views,

they have learned to count

their blessings: migrants

taking a bowl of air

on this bitter afternoon.


Their formal attire

incongruous, their waddling

gait seems outlandish

to the natives they dismay.


Consorting largely

with their own,

they have tried

at least to pay their way

and no...

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Also by David Cooke:

Schooldays |

love like a trailer park (09/22/2016)

 Love comes easy, but it doesn't really go away after that. No matter how many times you hammer it down, lock it away, drown it, or excise it with home surgery, you always seem to find it somewhere. Growing in the dark little corners of your mind, where you want it least and need it most. It'll pop your stitches for you, rebreak old bones. It's there and there's not much for it, so you can choose ...

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Also by Zach Dafoe:

uncut (09/22/2016) | patients - patience (09/21/2016) | howl steppin (09/11/2016) | chime (09/11/2016) | sons' irony (09/04/2016) |


When the love that is supposed to be your wings

To help you go beyond the restrictions of realities

Will become the chain that shackles you

To the depth of nothingness


Losing yourself to the abyss of torment and pain

Blinded by the promise of eternal bliss

Is it still love?

Or is it just a senseless belief.


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Not for you

Try me on we can taste the cake

tell me how different your mind can shape 

Of course you experienced my pain too late 

In a circle around you didn't break 

Lie for the art that's not yours to take 



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Also by Youthfullyxx:

My lonely | Uncontrollable | Solitude | Supportive loyal fake friends | Beauty on the outside | leave the rotting skin for color | men with selfish intent | climax deadzone | god found me | my own relationship with god | the parties over | what we will never see |

Free Catastrophe

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No general, no goverment,

no any God or Normality

can not take control over me

I am the Free Catastrophe. 

No one tells me what to do, 

maybe I am under all standards 

but any teachers, preachers or manners

won't stuff in my head unanswered answers! 

I don't take shit from anyone anymore 

I don't bend my knee 

I don't care if they like me or not

only one thing coun...

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Also by FruFru:

Love Not on the Spot | Pain |


I was drunk when I wrote this poem...

Forest Rabbit Crown Soft Stone

Forest Rabbit Crown Soft Stone

Was the name she introduced

On that candle light bright night

Where dreams were all self-produced


Desert Lion Hat Rough Silk

Was the name we all had guessed

For her stars were drowned in milk

Yet her sun in black was dressed


Those you hear were the words

In which I painted your ghost

Now that time has tuned my chords

Could I...

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