Playfulness strewn around

Playful in the early hours

Morning bells a ringing star 

They flock upon my terrace 

Singing melodies worth power 


Playfully they roam all over the garden

Hanging out in groups of threes and fours 

Mesmerising music their chirping creates 

Filling the dawn's enthusiastical songs 


Playfulness strewn all around the lawn 

Hopping on from Branches to Branches 


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Also by N.B:

Closure | Peace, love, harmony and me |


You’ll get square eyes,

Nub ends

Todays chips

Yesterdays news


If the wind changes 

You’ll stick like that

Sunday under the car

Saturday at the flicks

Number 6

Lunatics from the war



The epilogue 

Frost on the inside

Bath once a week

8 days a week.



Scrap yards

If you do that you’ll go blind 

Super tax


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a claim of a universe

the universe is a claim of a claim
the universe is a claim of a stake
to claim the universe is to direct the universe
the future direct the future
the future direct the stake of the future
the stake of the future is the direct of the future
the stake of the future is the stake of a direction

the universe is a direct universe
the universe is a direct claim
science claim science
the dire...

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Autumn, it’s the time of year 
for nature’s most spectacular show
As verdant countryside hues
are replaced with a radiant glow  

Trees once thick with deep green foliage
turning shades of crimson and gold
The colours of their final goodbye 
so wildly intense and bold 

Photo Credit Dr Amir Khan

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Also by julie callaghan:

Eternal Cycle | HE, 29 Others And Me |

The way of the cloud

                                                      (For Tom)

But please, remember me fondly
I heard from someone you're still pretty
And then they went on to say that the pearly gates
Had some eloquent graffiti. Sam Beam

In every mouthful of food
In every look of love
In every chiding and every making up:
This sometimes bay of tranquillity,
This harbour to which we return,

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Also by John E Marks:

A recreation | A splinter from Armenia |

Great Grand Parents

My greatgrandparents were great grand parents

My grandparents were great grand parents

My parents are great grand parents


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Also by Kevin Tan:

Core Business | Poetry (no epic failures) |



A small island of the Dodecanese

Island folk seem so eager to appease

Unhurried life puts us firmly at ease

Gently blown by the soft Aegean breeze


Archangel Michael of Panormitis

This monastery draws us, invites us

Somehow we acquire a monk to guide us

Lighting candles for those gone before us


With neoclassical coloured houses

Gift Shops, some bar...

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Also by JD Russell:

The simile of The Mist. |


Skulduggery Movements

Skulduggery Movements

why do our Heart's require deceit? That young boy is explosive because of the lack of love he receives, Every 5 steps there's a new landmine, The devil too can dress in gold, Peace was far, God is our core, Respect the lions Roar, I've been witnessing too many skulduggery movements, Men and Woman who are unscrupulous, I trusted.. I got hurt.. I neglected and got everything...

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Playing in the garden
watching films together
as you nestle into my arm
learning each other's language
You trusted me, eventually
became part of my family

I loved to watch you
explore the world we shared
sunbathing on the rug
or endless pats in the living room
Your fur and the quiet purr
of little teeth grinding

What I've been dreading
now, it's happening
You’re still you
but yo...

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sunrising sunset






~ imPRESSions ~

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Also by Frederick Kesner:

to be seen |


Seasons Come and Seasons go

Autumn crocus has arrived

Purple hues imbued

By dappled light

Forest floors embellished

By the remnants

Of summer nights



And so it is that I

Have survived

Another season


I cannot speak

In rhyme

Or reason


The seas have raged

The tide has waned

Through it all

My strength remains


With tired soul

And aching heart

This old...

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The Taking of Gaia by Stealth

Taking Gaia by Stealth



     There are cowards here,

dare not speak to a tree, or a bird that nests,

     their own children – now deformed,


     ‘it is too much to believe, we are

the empath of a Gaia World for,

     no tree has ever spoke to me, or bird and,

     children, should be seen, and not heard.’


     My world is theirs and yet, they have


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Also by ZTK Space:

Feb 4th - Mike Ladd | Hiding Behind Latin |

The Lonely Road

I'm on this's weary and long.
I keep hearing the words 'stay strong'
Through watery eyes, I follow signs.
This endless road is so tiring at times.

Night times comes and I'm driving still.
I feel like I am driving against my will.
But I carry on, around each silent bend.
I'm hoping this road is nearly at an end.

It deceives at times and it casts a spell.
Are there miles ahead...

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Too soon to know?

It’s unfair to heighten expectations.

It’s too early to make a judgment call.

I am no real expert in physiognomy,

But, as I gaze down at your lovely face,

There is no shadow of a doubt at all,

Intelligence, friendship, beauty and love,  

all flow freely through your every vein.


So may you, with happiness, now proceed.

You have all the support you could ever need,


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Flocks of autumn crows

glean the scattered corn

from newly stubbled fields,

greedily they feed

before the onset

of winter's scarcities.


Wise birds these  -  -


Resourceful  -  -


Successful - -


Each maintaining it's own personal space,

aware that together - they are safe,

and that sentinels will rise

to ward off dangers from the skies.


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Small Print

It’s the rifle-butt nature of all this:

Sit down, shut up, sign here, do as you’re told.

We talk about land grabs, but this is, well,

An extortion, of dignity and heart.

There’s a bash for the scammers in the North,

And jobs for the boys. Lot’s of them, no doubt.

Imagine this: ‘Yes, I’d love to be ruled

By the people who blew this place to bits

And killed or maimed our frie...

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The Inn at The End of The World


The Rebels have all gone

They live in Seaside Towns,

They’ve done all that could be done

They’re Slippered now and Dressing Gowned


Apart from those who dwell in Pubs

In Whiskey Spills and Resignation,

Once the Spokes of Dizzied Hubs

The Promised rise of Brighter Nation


And who’d begrudge their quiet Defeat?

When even Victories Fade,

To reminisce what’s ...

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Also by Massoud:

Firework |

a woman on fire

she pushed & pulled her way through the shadows. 

with each move forward , she reached for a glimpse of light. 

with each move forward , the dark pressed on. 

steady reaching , moving. 

her chest felt heavy as she realized there was no end for her. 

there was no light , only more shadows. 

the shadows crept in the background , yet seemed to laugh in her face. 

it was as if the...

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Weekly WalkaboutsVerse, E.G., Poem 120 of 230:  A GOOD SEASIDE DAY - AUTUMN 2000

Poem 120 of 230:  A GOOD SEASIDE DAY - AUTUMN 2000

Via an art gallery,
    Blackpool how it used to be;
Via a famous tower,
    The Blackpool of the hour;
Via a maritime Mount,
    Fleetwood with its channel out;
And, via a coastline tram,
    The autumn-night lit-art jam.

(C) David Franks 2003 -

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Basketball 🏀

Basketball is a great and wonderful sport,
And one that must be played inside a court.
As the players move the ball must bounce,
Whilst the other team they'll hope to trounce.

They pass to members of their team,
Of which they'll hope to be the cream.
They'll take their aim and then they'll shoot
To get that ball right through the hoop.

The spectators cheer their team to win,
And when ...

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Also by Stuart Vanner:

Stagnation |

Stuart VannerBasketballSport

Gothic Nocturne


The poem stands accused.
'Threshold', 'omen' and all the rest.
The humble scribe explains.
The poem raises these phantoms
to drop them from a great height. Cursed words 
from the province of impish boys and girls
where superstitious souls conjour 
untenable worlds.
The part-time scribe will make it plain.
This amateur scribe works in the warehouse.
Here endless shelves hold the worl...

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Find & Seek

Adumbrate the sine qua non

that inundates with newness

the contentment of the shore, 

that fosters the fortitude

to acquiesce to the adventure, 

but then gladly follow

the trail of fallen confetti

in reverse, back to solitude,

to recommence the seeker's cycle,

for the finder can only be idle

for so long, before the beacon

of the Quest sprinkles its

breadcrumbs a...

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