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Greg Freeman on BANANAS
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I can hear the traffic in the distance 

And some far away clock 

Swoosh goes the early cars out to work 

Phone vibrations drown out tick tock tick tock 


He is not here with me ..the sofa feels 

Spacious and empty 

Oh does his hard labour resent me 

He would rather be laid here with me 

I'd rather he stayed here with me 


His face lights up when he sees me


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I can point

I can point

at the problem,

and turn to face

the solution


It seems that I

am alwas in

the way.

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Bananas are temporary
so brief their prime
they start out nice and green
but in a day or two
ugly brown spots show up
like age spots they multiply
they are unsightly and put people off
no one wants to be around an old banana
the banana starts to lose its zing
it gets limp and nasty
eventually turning old and mushy
it's enough to make you sick
it was not mea...

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Also by d.knape:

Wet Noodle | WALKING | The Mask |






Is a wonderful idea where we can say what we like?

To act as we like without concern what others might think.

I believe in free speech voicing what life has thought me

and part of this is that freedom carries responsibility.

dare I say, compassion for others.

In Europe’s cities and the USS, people are demonstrating

they do not want their freedom curta...

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Also by jan oskar hansen:

freedom | freedom | nre tyranny | the failed revolution | the transferable tourist | willful mausers |

Crowd of Thorns

the world mind a bright grey

brain       blades of grass

synapses and us but

physical information

body plots on bleak plains

half-hearted among the tulps

quartered by chaos

every mind a 1

each defeat a 0

you fly between and fall

without       containing in 

fractal form the infinity between

1 and 1.1


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Also by Seth:

The Grinding Day Starts With The Heart's Spark |

Waste of Space


There is a limit to the size of Earth;

We have to learn to live within this sphere.

This air, this land, these seas are all we have;

We can’t make any more, no matter how

We play and toy with innovative fakes.

No annex on the Moon, no Mars estate;

We work with what is here, without complaint.

There’s progress, there is fantasy, and then

Wet dreams of schoolboys wasting...

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Also by Stephen Gospage:

Data |


With a gentle touch

on the window

I leave you devotion.

I open the eyes of conscience

and no one will forbid me

to describe you perfectly.

I extend the century

on my old shoes

to move forward,

and love

he asks me if I can stand it

to carry the load

of a heavy dedication.

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Also by Sanja Atanasovska:

Me, you and she | One way |

Remembered Banana

Cycling back I suddenly remembered my banana so I stopped to eat it.


I heard a sort of whirring noise behind me before a bloke on an e-bike whizzed past very fast, not pedalling.


I thought to myself 'lazy sod!'.


Having finished my banana I put the skin in the bin.


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Time Travellin' Blues (a poem for children)

well I woke up this mornin’

with an ache in my head

when I called for the Doctor

got a Dalek instead


I got the blues

got them time travelling blues

Since my tardis left without me

I got them time travelling blues


feelin’ sick and tired

time to regenerate

but that mean ol’ Dalek

screams, ‘Exterminate!’





I got the blues

got them tim...

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Also by Neil West:

Oblivia (a poem for children) | Neil's Glorious Meals (a poem for children) | When Brian Came to Grotsville (a poem for children) |

Jewel Of A Scene

Stunning August morning 
a jewel of a scene 
The link chain fence surrounds
fields of deep emerald green

Sparkling like a diamond 
set in a rose gold sky 
The yellow topaz sun 
melts the clouds drifting by

Photo Credit Dr Amir Khan

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Also by julie callaghan:

The Muscovy Duck | Turkish Wild Fires | The Plight Of The Bumblebee | #Visibleandsafe | Yorkshire Day |

First Love

I saw every happiness in your eyes
I wonder what was in your eyes that I blossomed
I was feeling strange
There was a different glow on my face
Thought I'd tell someone
But I don't know what was that feeling
who were you could not forget
Couldn't sleep at night even after trying hard
Surrounded by questions, confusion could not solve the mind
was looking for your eyes
where I saw you befo...

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attractionlovenew love interests

Past imperfect

Dawn arrives from the east tomorrow at dawn All the streets of this city gleam as does the rich countryside there are few here in this fresh air who see, cars once again ferrying the solo owners to work. As I walk, my thoughts splash around my brain fruitlessly seeking coalescence without a modicum of sense I identify a common malady it is sadness. I do not loo...

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Also by John E Marks:

John Clare |


Forget those nonsense conspiracy theories about microchips in your vaccine, 5G masts, Hillary Clinton and the devil-worshipping paedophile ring; even David Icke as the Grand Lizard. The real conspiracy is headed by ES.


Ubiquitous, as in a crowd, invisible to sight,

Relentless rolling through the day, anonymous by night

Corporately liveried in red and green and white

Just who can s...

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This began with whispered words,

bites from shiny apples;


a desire to command, create;

a hunger to articulate intensity,

to mechanise a melody inside.


This commenced with prephonation;

tutoring of simple lips,

tentatively glossolalic.

Patterns forming,

disconnected information circling itself,

pulling at phonetic cords of morphemes


and spitting ...

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Life fails to provide

a dress rehearsal, hence

the stage fright remains

all too real throughout

the play, never knowing

what act you're in, 

which scene is coming up, 

or whether the prompter

will be on duty to

save the day, as the 

voice trembles beneath

the spotlights of truth,

while it searches for 

the next line that 

doesn't break character

and fav...

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Turning The Page

The book is opened though the end grows nearer as we turn the pages,
The narrative comparatively clearer as we walk the ages,
Broken hearts and vows now bind the words in tortured tension,
Spoken parts now read blind, too unkind and hurt to mention, 
Bookmark the page, shelve the rage and save it for another play,
Let the players step down from the stage until another day, 
There is the stor...

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The climb

Use your past as a step

To propel yourself upward

Raise the torch

Shed light onto the stairs above and below

It may be a flight or two

As the ground levels

Your legs ache

Looking down in the present

Reaping the significance of the ascent

Framing a picturesque view, of beauty of the climb

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Desert Island

The route to happiness

Is to expect less of things,

so they say,


to leave alone the sorrow, 

the slaughter and

put your feet up awhile


and marvel at whatever 

small mercies materialise 

before you;


the universe of dust

in afternoon light,


the steam spiralling 

from the coffee cup

resting upon your chest,


the sparrows 

leaping in...

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A Cruise Ship State of Mind

Rapper searching for work on board a cruise ship I sign up to entertainment agents and wait for job opportunities to perform.

Yeah, yeah
Ayo, bros, it's time.
It's time, bros (aight, bros, begin).
Straight out the loud dungeons of rap.

The light drops deep as does my singer.
I never sing, 'cause to sing is the captain of swinger.
Beyond the walls of singers, life is defined.
I think of...

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a cough as dead leaves drop

detached with soft faint sigh

last breath of lonely martyrs

murmur of breeze in the sky


gravity's heavier as we age

ancient oaks sad blue eyes

saplings thrust like a lance

a loving that knows no lies


do remember me, I'm here,

did you forget I found you?

like a lost fawn, dappled in

shadowed glades and dew


scoured every ...

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climate changediversityfireforestlovesun.rootstrees

If you’re reading this…

If you’re reading this

I’ve so much more to say

We’ve only gotten started

Along this precious way.


Stumbling at times

Often falling short

Terribly uncertain 

Not knowing what’s in store.


Wishing that your fingers

Would reach out and pull mine in

Wishing that your lips

Would savour my sweet skin. 


Next to you is where

My heart can take a rest


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Also by Donna R. Hedges:

The Moon in Reply |

Change The Narrow Thinking

Welcome to the twenty-first century

Let’s make this poem into a good memory

I have plenty of motivation and energy

The narrow thinking needs to alter, come and follow me

Stop with the forced marriages

Sending your daughters in beautiful carriages

Without asking for their consent

Coercing them to smile throughout the event

Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual or Queer

There is no need ...

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Life Is Tougher

I am tough, but life is tougher

I’ve been through too much to doubt it

God must like to watch us suffer

Otherwise he’d do something about it

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dubito ergo sum

To Ride Jock's Bloody Bull

To Ride Jock’s Bloody Bull


When you’re ten years old, and you’ve got a best mate

You’re a very lucky lad

And my best mate was Sando

The best mate a lad coulda had


We stuck together through thick and thin

Through hail and stormy weather

Through trials and tribulations

We’d faced the world together


And always it was just me and him

And I liked it…. Just h...

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Conversation With My Nine-Year-Old Self

So here’s the thing kid,

you gotta pay a bit more attention,

think what you’re doing.


A simple game of rugby in the garden,

you might scratch a leg on the shed.

It may not look too bad, but it could

go septic, turn out real nasty.


I mean, two or three weeks in bed

in summer holidays would be bad enough,

but doctor visits every day

to poke and prod’s no fun. ...

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Who laps who kneels?


On perfumed patios ragged men pick their teeth with twigs,

Rested they untie their trod-down boots.


Draped like opium-eaters they laze in hazy pools of shimmering heat,

Victory makes men believe the battle won.


In stinking ditches hollowed-out men peel off their bloody rags,

Unable to sleep their cratered eyes stare wildly nowhere.


Crouched like coiled corpses...

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The Changing Breeze


Before the demolition

Turned my old Street

Into rubble

I went to steal some memories

Of our laughter & our struggle


I went to hopscotch down

The chalk lines of the past

Play tag with the echoes

Of ones who didn't last


Time had aged the street

Like a persons face too old

It wore the strain of many toils

From the ending of 'black gold'


I wal...

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Tears of the Moon


The legend speaks of a healing reflection,

light that preserves inward perfection.

Luminous sap in moonshine elixir,

eternal womb sustainity in a tear.


Silent voice shape shifting flow,

water of mercy and compassion beau.

Providence sphere in radiant shape,

endurance not knowing to be afraid.


Beyond all withered conception,

drifting along virtues convictio...

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On the Milk

5.30am until 7am

Monday to Friday before school,

up at 4am on Sundays 

finished by lunchtime,

If you drop and break anything

clean it up and never lie to me,


such a scant induction as a

sixteen-year old village milk boy

in 1967, the Summer of Love,

the hippy anthem ‘ San Francisco’

scrolling through my head,


in the rain, I wore a floor-length cape


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One more time

O life let me fall in love with you

Let me share the feelings true 

I have so much within to give

Holding back is killing me


O life let me breathe anew

Fresh air of emotions

And things that lends happiness

Joy of living with people I love 


O life let me hear your music true 

Lyrics of songs romantic that gets me kicking too

Into the realms of Neverending lov...

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Also by Ghazala lari:

Breathing anew |


Teaming of cold angles,

Yellow in its breaming,

Dying early at night.


Guttered rat,

Which teals the ground,

Broken edges at the banquet.


Hollowing the precious thin,

A serpentine tincture of handy men,

Because a stream struck a chord between.


Beneath a creep,

The kingdom come,

Rotting hearts of deathly grace.


It streaks the blue,

A red in ...

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Amidst the clouds of ego and selfdom,

Olly found a falcon out of the world,

who surprisingly was kind and humane,

making Olly hurled and swirled.

Falcon stopped his journey abruptly,

making nest on a banyan tree,

sudden wining and dining together,

gave Olly million reasons to glee.

Years passed in this gambol,

making them forget the truth,

the world works on some norm...

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Wars gestate in the wombs of Mothers

who will cry at the folding of a flag,

whilst cheering the burning of another.

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July goes out with a bang

walls collapse inward

port-a-loo effluence falls as rain


The sniper eats his breakfast

a fine dust of asbestos layers his tongue

his fingernails split by ricochet’d brick


Waking with his door like a coffin lid atop him

the room disappears into a falling sky

neighbours stagger blind like ghosts looking for shoes


And still the ...

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