Burnt feelings

Before the night ends and the day Is done

The water recedes in the background 

There are words unsaid and emotions unshared

I wish these could be conveyed when it was time 

The sun has risen, the darkness retreats 

Few scribbles on the papers to read and wipe


Within this heart of mine, a little too big yet it's small 

There're feelings trapped waiting to be expressed


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Also by Moonlight:

Sa.yo.na.ra | Victorious | Victim ain't a convict | Waiting | What's meant to be will chase you till you receive | Glad tidings | Blessed!! |

A Calling

The lads have escaped league 1 at last! 😁 A little poem I did pre game.


Can you hear them?


The shipbuilder's hammer

The picks upon the seams

Drifting up from glories past

Still harbouring foretold dreams 


The whispering of legends

Still bleeding red n white 

The time is here, the time is now

Time to put things right!


The Roker Roar still lingers


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Also by Stephen W Atkinson:

Winter Song (10 line challenge) | Her Words | All Fall Down... | Amistad | I Wonder If... | Idle | My Lonely Love |


We all live in the past...

The present flows rapidly behind me, as hard as I try

To hold a precious moment in my tremulous hand.

It slips. It’s gone; I watch that golden instant slide away

In the rear-view mirror of my chequered history,

Adding to all the endless acres of slurry and mud.


Our past; the opaque, unfathomable morass

Of what once happened, and can never happen again.

All the happiness, ...

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Also by John Botterill:

Stuck in the Mud | Woodland Sanctuary | The Scan | #freedom |



To each their way

To each their life


Nothing good, nor bad

Just a cold calmness 


What you feel, you're right 

Do what's best for you 

Choose that which is good for you

Don't try people who ditched you 

You know that you are the best 

You deserve the best, go ahead, 

You've already moved on,

changed your address 


There's no point looking backwards 


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Also by N.B:

*remember | *wandering | *obsolete |

Frenemy of the State

I build my empire on rancour

My thoughts became so muddy

This backwater, this quagmire

I'm not xenophobic, it's just not foreign what I admire

You're my friend but I don't call you

Don't bother, I changed my number in advance

You see I would come to you at your worst

Sacrifice my health and wellbeing

To make you feel a little bit better

You're a backtalking, backstabbing...

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Also by Kevin Tan:

Mother of Mummies | Personal Confessions (1) | From A to Privet | Like an Echidna | The Sparrow | Time for digestion | I'M LETTING SORROW GO | You bring me joy, my lover | Little Rose | Internet communities for free | My non-addictions (1) | The future |

A baby's face

You are not special,
Not loved,
Not painfully gifted,
You hang the leopard,
Of outstretched hand,
And spot on your breath,
Unheard of,
The manner in which it henceforth whrithes in decay,
The smell of the foul blood in vacant memories,
Vinear and salvation,
Hospital and surgeons,
We which left behind,
Have a look in the mirror,
A memory fleeting,
Like a child in the air,
Never danci...

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Also by Alita Moore:

Shivers |

The Place

Nothing touches me,

that connection I ache for

never more than fleeting

never close.

Always something there – stopping it.


It's them?

It’s me?

It’s something..


Dark, insecure, stubborn.

                Oh, so infinitely stubborn.


And I’m stuck here


Read and leave comments (0)

Mud Puddles...


Mud puddles of refreshment

for even the fragile,

who are not too proud to drink

from a supply less inviting.

Fluid grace of movement

that pauses to quench its thirst

knowing that it must

to survive the summer heat.

The dry season is not faraway,

something the fragile know...

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Also by Carol Congalton:

Do or Die... | A Pony Tale... | The War Machine |

agingten line poemmudfragility

harvest moon

shadowy sheets cover, 

dark, shining lips purse;

pointy ears prick skyward

as corn stalks pondered

chanting scarecrows curse

in a sea of dreams left over

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Also by Frederick Kesner:

Rotterdam | Ballad of Billy McGee | no poetry by numbers | innit your day? | uplift | reed music |


automotive death in slow motion

to one malice

time has the often injurious habit

of adding another


the shell of a stolen car

dumped and burned out


already dead in terms of useage

still dying in terms of rusting away



you'd have to look very deep

into the sentimental part of your mind

like I do


so you could pity

the loss of what

a loyal family servant

this vehicle c...

Read and leave comments (0)

Also by Bethany Sallis:

oh for a second chance! | faded sleb' ( i.e. Favershamesque ) | congregational blame cleansings? yeah right! | Fathers gun mouth | considering reincarnation |

On my app

Panera Bread is preparing your order,

to be delivered between 4:06 and 4:16pm.


Roderick Velloza is putting salad

on your chicken sandwich


while imagining banging Clarisse Mendoza,

who’s bagging the chips


Your order is on the way,

driven by your currier Tareq


who fears his children are being corrupted

by the new “Strazz” dance


and Taki’s extra ...

Read and leave comments (0)

Also by Robert C Gaulke:

birthdays |

Sage 2.

Stones along the shore that is where i found you sitting by yourself eyes fixed at the moving horizon you tried to swim
through strong currents just to reach peace perfect beach
littered with golden dust
it could be yours
to hold its soul in your artificial hands
teach valuable premonitions to deep sea treasure divers
hiding the truth about the proof collected but vaq...

Read and leave comments (1)

Also by RudyardK:

Bloody mess. | (untitled) | (untitled) | (untitled) | (untitled) | Good to be Dutch. | (untitled) |

Fun Times With Alba

In the garden under the hot May sun.
Playing with Alba, having lots of fun.
We boarded a rocket, flew into Space.
Waving goodbye to the Human Race!
We circled the Stars and Moon twice.
In her little Rocket...made of juicy ice!
Back to Earth, we returned to land.
We came in fast, so I held her hand!
We had a pretend sleep, without a care.
I poured lots of water all over my hair!
Her lolly...

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Also by Mike Bartram:

8 Years | So Sorry Mum | 'The Party' | A New Dawn | Steps |

Hanging by a thread

the loneliness of the soul in its appalling self-consciousness is horrible and overpowering.
― Sylvia Plath, 

Her tightly veined hands cup water
I stroke her hair gliding over
Her forehead I bend to kiss her
She repeats my name and I hers
A little gentle verbal tennis
That exhausts her. She leans
Back into the pillow. My sister
Slightly shifts the sheet above
The cellulitis on her leg....

Read and leave comments (1)

Also by John E Marks:

regret | visit | Horatio Mosley Moule, committed suicide, Cambridge, 1873 | Free speech | Ruin | A WITHERING | Gorffwysfa | The season of the witch | Burst the Bounds | This land is my mother. | Meet me on the Edge | A Sonnet for May | The Furies | (untitled) | Only connect | Putin's nursery rhyme | Blue is green | All gone by | Last things | The glory of the May | A la Recherche du Temps Perdu |

Petals That Drop

Beautiful are the petals that drop...

     on every side see the fight
for flowers that do not wilt.

And the Sun who dies day after day...

     hear a sigh fade among reeds
"I tend an eternal flame".

Like the truest friends come through the fog...

     adequate feel the weapons 
that secure a stone bunker.

To carry sorrow and grief away...

     yes, the sigh fades among ree...

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Also by Adam Whitworth:

Little Butterfly | Silence | Psychopath In Decent Clothing | Season Of The Leaf |

Weekly WalkaboutsVerse, E.G. - Poem 134 of 230:  RAWTENSTALL - SPRING 2001

Poem 134 of 230:  RAWTENSTALL - SPRING 2001

A whistle’s “we are off” scream,
    Plus the sight and sound of steam
Against a stone tunnel-wall,
    On the track to Rawtenstall.

High up from where I now dwell,
    A much narrower Irwell
Flows past Rawtenstall’s station -
    Making its own Bury run.

Turning to view a wide ridge,
    I walked to Weavers’ Cottage,
Whose staff enlight...

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Also by David Franks: Walkabouts Verse:

My Weekly WalkaboutsVerse, E.G., "LYTHAM AND ST. ANNE’S" |

An Occupational Hazard

At fancy dress parties I always have fun

Last Tuesday I went to one dressed as a nun,

I drank too much drink and I ended up drunk

And woke up on Wednesday in bed with a munk.

Read and leave comments (0)

Also by branwell kent:

Magnificent | Hey-Ho | At Last, A Use For Shakespeare |

Ta Very Much

Spots red volcanoes

Creepy crater skin

White ghost face

Eye lash horror

Peach puff lips

What you need

Full make over

Mud pack needed

In the morning

Stuck like tar.

Read and leave comments (4)

Also by Nigel Astell:

Sleepless in Stockport | More Than A Game | Glade of Light | Sacrificed to the Gods of War |

mud sticks

Gender Neutral Toilets

There’s a gender-neutral toilet in our house
Like the one on a plane
And the one on a train
Like getting caught short in the woods in the rain.

There’s a gender-neutral toilet in our house
So politically correct
What did you expect
One or more types from which to select?

There’s a gender-neutral toilet in our house
How very outré
To piss that way
What would the second world war gene...

Read and leave comments (4)


The dogma of the temporal nomad

is an acceptance of the evanescence

of all, from the lacklustre to the astral, 

for even what purports to alter one's course

on a visceral level, has but an ephemeral tether, 

and is soon to be rejected by a newborn Present,

able solely to be resurrected by a Memory

so rudimentary as to sculpt faulty forms

using mud procured from the riverban...

Read and leave comments (4)

Also by Holden Moncrieff:

Beatitude | Lullaby | Quixotic | Caustic | Resisted Paths |



When I hold you,

You melt in my arms like snow in spring

Rivers of warmth course from your body, 

drowning my senses , 

blinding my eyes , 

like the piercing sun, gently washing me downstream in a flood of unconscious.


Precious moments , snatched, 

You draw the laughter from my lips

Like waters from the deep well

Fathomed by hands of angels


Head throne back ...

Read and leave comments (1)

Also by Edbreathe:

God please save us. | Peering in | Peering in | Fool crumb |


On the subject of coffee houses

I find the Starbucks at Walsall very good

original in many ways

residing in a Birmingham Bauhaus style building

nestling enticingly off of a popular roundabout

near the ring road

you get the picture. 

The serving style is second to none

and the staff have an almost come hither look

which reflects their desire to please,

and please they ...

Read and leave comments (2)

Also by ray pool:


Demons in the Woods (10 line challenge)

Demons in the Woods

Running from the demons
Deep down in the woods
Head all in a panic
Heart fast pumping blood
Feet are feeling heavy
Trudging through the mud
Fear taking over my body
This situation I misjudged
Peeking over my shoulder to see once where I stood
Can’t control this trembling (I really wish I could).

© curiousdud3 05/2022



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Also by curiousdud3:

Chains of Capture | Charade |

Demonsfear10 line challengescared


Hi, I will be uploading photos from pictures that were captured by yours truly. Give me a follow on 

instagram: @mesquitecanyon_photography 

facebook: Mesquite Canyon Photography 

The beautiful scenery of New Mexico! 🌵💚

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CowsphotographyNew Mexicophotosscenery

Turn it around

I’m not sure how to do this…

to turn around from self-hatred.

to not despise this life of mine.

to no longer want to throw it away.

To realize it was never mine to begin with.

To be thankful for all that I do have

and to seek the flaws in my own logic.

not for self-pity,

but to reorganize my perspective

and see what I’ve had the whole time

and simply missed.



Read and leave comments (3)

Also by Joseph Healy:

Redundancy | He who sees it all | Expectations | Compass | Author(ity) | 3rd Hemisphere | Debating | Locus of Control | Too much to ask? | One without the Other | Den of Demons | Rebellion | Skin Deep | Spirit | I am Me | Hands-on, Hands-off | Talk the Talk | I wanna! I wanna! I wanna! | History | Simple, not Easy | Youth | Please, just listen | Everyday | Thing | Inner monster | Afraid | His truth for Me | My truth | Cyanide of the Soul | and myself? | Unknown | What scripture is for me | Nervous | Who dares stand against? | Ask a Stranger | Sunflower | Circle | House of Cards | Reflecting | Decisions | Look up | Attention spans | Next of Kin | Willing spirit, weak flesh | Bark and Bare | Another one | A psalm of my own |


Glorious Mud

'Mud, Mud, Glorious Mud',

Was a very famous song:

Sung by the great Michael Flanders

And played by Donald Swann.

Both, alas, are now long gone.

But Flanders' daughter Stephanie

Is frequently heard on the BBC,

So the heritage of mud

Lives on!


Read and leave comments (3)

Also by Stephen Gospage:

Afterlife | Day 82 | My Enemy | Anger Management | Lenin | Atmosphere | Make-Believe |



‘But he came to see us!!’

She said, trying not to kick up a fuss—

‘Surely we can at least say hello—

Before they go!!’


The Disturbance Leader cast her a glance:

‘We are not here to DANCE—

On command

Just because someone’s paid several grand

To be fancy at the Malangen Resort, on that there piece of land’.


(He pointed with his luminous green finger down at the p...

Read and leave comments (1)

Also by Jo Callisto:

Discussions | An Hour In Time | Uranium Boy | The BIG FACTOID | Always A Student | I Can't Get Over The Beauty | What Does Autism Look Like? | The Womble-Jo Of Wales, I Am | Pink Ghost-Shoes | My Ameriglish Girl | Desideratum | Paul |

We Make Mud


We Make Mud 


You pretend

I pretend

We all pretend 

That it's all fine


Underneath— angst is brewing 

But we try our best

To both appear kind 


You pushed

And pushed

And I pushed back


I think that you see white

You think 

That I see black


From other planets

But bound by blood

I am the rainyou are the soil

Without intent...

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Also by Rasa Kabaila:

Freedom | Complex Creature |


It's ten years since God's non-existence was proved beyond all doubt... 


A million people killed themselves in the first week

when they realised there was no inheritance for the meek


Every place of worship has turned out the lights

Members of the clergy have grandfather rights


There are no more good fights to be fought

The Pope's a concierge at Vatican City Resort


Read and leave comments (1)

Beach Boom Haiku

Sea cave woof boom voice

Cliffs where is it coming from?

Where is everything?

Read and leave comments (0)

Also by Jed:

New Haiku |

My Injury Time

I was once injured in a time gone by. 

To describe my dread I now shall try.

I broke nine ribs and gravely hurt my arm,

I asked, 'Do I really now deserve this harm?'


Twelve days in hospital I spent,

So slowly by they all surely went.

I lost my freedom and my dignity 

And no-one understood my agony.


I was in great and constant pain,

And like this I thought I wou...

Read and leave comments (1)

Stuart VannerInjuriesHealth

Loving you is painful

Loving you is painful
Like life's uncertainties
Loving you is painful
It's always wait and see

Will you make me sing
Or will you bring me tears
Claim you never knew me
Insighting all my fears

Push back folds of knowing
Tear down heartbreaks crust
I crave a touch of interest
And another trist of lust

But ever do I wonder
If mine you should compare
To all the ones that came befor...

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Also by Moana mai:

My Incubus | The truest self | Gemini flight | The Lovers | Control | Sink |

What a mess

It feels like I’ve been let into a world I’m not supposed to be in. Or am I? How would I know really, do I believe I know who I am? As if I don’t lift my head up high for those below Me and walk with my tail between my legs for the overlords! 
Furious! Outrageous and grand those ideas pour over my frontal lobe wetting it. Now it is sodden, dripping in the pure filth that is vision and life.   

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Morning Report

I should be drinking

boiled water

with lemon juice

but settle 

for black coffee 

and half a glazed donut

in the courtyard

watching the morning

traffic of bees

while the sparrows

cheep alarm

above the head

of the cat

stretched out 

in the dust and sun


and so it goes,

the sky blue

as a fresh coat

of paint

dabbed with white clouds

and b...

Read and leave comments (2)

Also by Tom Harding:

Balance | The Process |


On the day God created me, he wept

Because he saw it all then.

He saw my beginning and my end.

He knew things I wouldn’t know for a long time.

Things that confused me before

But now make perfect sense.

Like when I prayed as a child--

Such a young and stupid child.

I prayed because I was supposed to,

And if I doubted that God heard,

The problem was me, and not God.


Read and leave comments (0)

dubito ergo sum


Home is not the kitchen where all your meals were prepped and made, 
It's where love and kindness was once shared and hate died in the shade. 
Home is not the bedroom where you once laid your weary head, 
It's where laughter filled your belly and curiosity challenged dread. 
Home is not the bathroom where you washed and combed your hair, 
It's that familiar loving hand that bathed you with ca...

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Honors of Love


I shivered at the fearsome thing,

this affliction that found you here

amongst all your beauty

I could never find the words

to offer as medals and ribbons

I wanted to give you

for wrestling and sparring

with a cruel and indifferent foe


While somehow finding the courage

to provide an embracing home

for the audacity to hope

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Also by Mike McPeek:

A User's Guide to Mondays |


It’s a bright day, brilliant colors all struck from sunrays

And the night which followed was quiet,

Cicadas ain’t out yet, I’m still figuring out how I hear the same sounds

Miles away and still hearing ringing and shouts.


I could never make sense how the skyline is loud

How the blue feels like it’s fighting the sun in a bout,

I watch it from a window while academic papers ar...

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Also by Caleb Gorey:

Pieris | Sunflowers |

My Son Loss Pain Emptiness memorieschildhood lossdeath of a older brotherGrief death bereavement consolation friendshipfamily poem100 best poetry blogs

The Irony Of Love

We're never taught the cons of LOVE, programmed and naive. Not to sound cynical, but I see reality with my eyes open not with them closed. 

We live on others' experiences and forget about creating our own. Love is not kind, love is not peaceful, and love is not pure sincerity. Love is nothing but chaos, pain, and cruelty to one's mind and soul. 

They teach us to find a soulmate from dusk, bu...

Read and leave comments (0)


Black white black white

alternating stripes

difffuse the sun


Through the umbrella pongee

I see oak-tree leaves

and a scurrying ladybug 


A morning bird monologues so loud 

he's scared or proud

like Noah announcing the flood


A spider meticulously crafts

her silky sleek webs, shimmering traps

stretched out by the breeze for blood


Lizards do pu...

Read and leave comments (2)

Also by Candice Reineke:

Brave But Not Brainy |

Throwing Eggs at Thatcher

I threw an egg at Thatcher.
Not the real one, but the statue
they put up in Grantham,
which is the closest you can get
since she's been ding dong dead.
Afterwards, I felt guilty.
I could have given that egg
to a food bank. But then
if it hadn't been for Thatcher
we might not need food banks
in the world's fifth richest country.
Just one of the many reasons why
I threw an egg at Thatche...

Read and leave comments (10)

Also by Joe Williams:

Limerick #18 |

Alien Abduction

I wouldn't mind

But I only nipped out to get a bone for mi dog.

And the butcher's is just round the corner

Five minutes

That's all I was gone for

Five minutes


Bloody aliens

I mean

If they'd have only invited me to have a look around their spaceship I'd have been only too pleased.

I quite liked it if truth be known

Except for the probing

All that blood...

Read and leave comments (3)

Also by kJ Walker:

The Queens Garden Party ( Granny Slugshaw) |

No Restraints

It's time to spit something out

The subtransuniversal spout

Time to shout!

No No No

Not quite yet

For you see the wheel is still in spin!

But if you would like to buy a vowel

Please give us your two cents

For you see

"we are merely players, performers, and potrayers....."


"ant it funny how the feelin' goes away...."

Like a bicycle illuding the clutches of g...

Read and leave comments (0)

From Eternity to Here

Hey you there, count your blessings

Because you could be a fish living

In the dark twilight zone of the sea

With no IQ and a light on your head

Knowing Jack Shit about anything

Not even sunlight, let alone apps or

Mobile phones or the Premier League

Or new movies and video games


You would have to swim through dark

Freezing pressurised water luring

Vile tasting th...

Read and leave comments (2)

Angler fishNihilism

Good morning

A beautiful day to start with

Humbled by the care He shows

My protector and my guide

In thee I shall always rely


A lovely day embarks on the ship of gold 

Creating a peaceful healthy beginnings

I'm grateful for this perfect healing 

That was divine anointing 


I'm happy and filled with noorullah in my heart 

For the one and only God almighty, Allah Subhanahu Tal...

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Also by Ghazala lari:

Eid ul fitr Mubarak!!! |

Cargo 200 - Special Delivery

Cargo 200 – Special Delivery

A run on the rouble in the Russian State Bank,

the Muscovites cursing the Brits and the Yanks,

the young mother fretting for her son in his tank

while the old man beside her his face has turned blank.

His i-phone appended to his hairy red ear

as she frowns and she strains in an effort to hear,

then watches his face morph from blankness to fear


Read and leave comments (0)



He had a limp, with crooked claw,

Of yellowed eye and snaggled tooth.

His Mother bore him cursed and poor,

Her fetid milk one hundred proof.


Suckled sick, he puked her gone,

Was sold to traders, passed around.

Cleaned the floors they’d fucked him on

N'er spoke a word, heard every sound.


Now old and bent but twisted straight,

This stinking twin of births fo...

Read and leave comments (1)




Hope is the thing which tethers

Anchors us in a disintegrating world

When we are lost in the darkness

And all has turned to ashes
It rises like dust and smoke

From smouldering remains


It grows from the kindness

And friendship of strangers

The hand held out across

An insurmountable distance

The force that drives us forwards

Into a future that maybe u...

Read and leave comments (2)

I Am But A Fool For You

One night, nestling in my exotic greenhouse, 
with its climbing vines, orchids and tropical bougainvillea -
a veritable menagerie of plant life,
I remembered a song by some pop star, inspired after he, 
in a vain attempt to resurrect her image, stole his lover’s looking glass. 

It went, ‘I am but a fool for you,’ and struck a chord with my troubled soul,
brought low by a silly drunken pass...

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Also by Kevin Vose:

An Old Runner's Lament |

Show more entries …

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