At the risk of being Authentic

I'll take my stand this Seat: 

this old&lonely hybrid, grid

has come to end its meat. 

Such source is hardly savoury, 

unfluent with the times;

Our course 't could be more wavery, 

at least if not too right!?

Thus here, now less for 'Milky Ways'

that universe has shut. 

Our planet's 'gain for 'Xtinctioning, 

unless we change the plot!

...

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Porky Pigs in Porton Down

took a bullet for the Crown.

All our wounds look the same

the pigs are dead the men are lame...

 

Argie's beneath trench duck boards

cut to meat by youthful hordes,

there were no geese upon the green

when sun came up, the slaughter seen...

 

Again, we're getting battle ready

our leaders brash, drunk faux-heady,

building ships, craf...

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You have to push your heart aside.

Out of the way, elbow and shoulder,

no matter love’s protests,

 

though they are not unheard.

Necessity needs to see beyond what love fears most,

the loss and damage of absence.

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Eventide, at the waning of the sun:
the scribe is done, all-but, save the index
and the binding. How well the tale's been told -
the endless ennui; the agonies; fun
and frolics in their turn (for even sex
had left its mark, some warmth to ease the bold,

chaotic passage of each turbid year) -
and now, as cramp-wracked fingers loose the pen
he settles back, unkinks hunched shoulder blades
...

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Auschwitz is mocked; His silence condemns all

who wallow in innocent blood before a World

that cries out Shame! He’s none; that’s wasted breath.

His quietus murders Babes with help from Hell:

whilst Heaven howls out vengeance for their deaths,

that Coward’s silence speaks with eloquence.

Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh 3rd June 2025

 

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Dear friends!\

Read my poem in the comments.

    Regards, Larisa

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There's dogshit on my front garden

Clearly the dog did it, but who is responsible?

There are four possible answers, which seems a bit odd

It's either the dog, his owner, me, or God

 

It can't be the dog because God gave Man dominion over animals

And it can't be God either because with great vision

He introduced the dominion policy at an early stage

Specifically on the bible...

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WRITE TO ROMANCE

 

Jessica drove furiously through familiar back streets - happy that she'd didn't have to travel to Cottesloe; being late for meetings at Tom Collins House did not enhance her image as a professional writer.

A new writer's group - close to home too! She still bubbled with enthusiasm even though she'd spent the last twenty minutes at the wrong hall. The guy doing a ka...

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VIRTUAL UNREALITY

By The Urban Poet

A virtual man

With a virtual girl

In a virtual house

In a virtual world

Gets virtually lost 

Then virtually found

So no need to worry

He’s virtually sound

 

A plastic woman

With a plastic man

In a plastic dream

About plastic pans

That melted plastic

On a plastic stove

In her plastic kitchen

In a plastic home

...

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Erstwhile laurels lurk

In lonely minds, 

Where lessons fester,

Unlearned,

Where the archived

Achievement tries,

But can never

Resurrect

The Beginning's fervid

Earnestness...

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All I hear are elusive echoes of self-depreciation and hatred. 

Tracing my memory back to precise occurrences of emotional distress and pain.

The nature of numbness bouncing through the walls of my mind. 

Will this arduous voice ever be silenced? 

No one knows better how to get under your skin than the mind enclosed beneath it. 

We take on the role of nurture or torture whenever we ...

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I have an eclectic palette

But you’re the only taste that matters

I used to roll my eyes when they said

A lover can be your refuge 

I thought turbulence feeds my drive 

But here we are

And it’s everything to feel safe in your arms

No more flight or fight with shaking hands

And anxiety, an egg in my throat 

A sickness that spreads

It always gives back 

Feeding its...

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I remember the cool breeze there,

where I live, my heart still resides there,

I feel, but it's painful my mother cries,

the memories with the time fly,

why time, you can't stop,

stop just for a sec,

let us look to our past,

beautiful, ugly, wealthy or dark,

it's always more beautiful than the last,

I feel the wind moving my heart, shattered

with the pane clattered,

...

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The bar keep lines up the drinks

Glasses filled throughout the night

The regulars smile and chuckle

Nudging each other sharing a joke

Ignoring the boy at the end of the bar

Pouring his sorrow in to a glass

His lips move silently conversing

With his silent invisible friend

Convinced the death of love has come his way at last

He sees nobody else and nobody sees him

Hi...

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Don’t chase the crowds or follow the lines,
Your path was drawn in bolder signs,
The world may shout what you should be,
But only you hold your own key!

They will point to roads they think are right,
Paved smooth and lit with borrowed light,
But joy is found in winding trails,
In daring dreams and setting sails!

Live loud, live true, don’t dim your flame,
For comfort's cage is not you...

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Step inside, could this be it?

Treading carefully in a one-size fit

Barren and empty with ideas a plenty

Is this the future tempting?

 

Down with the old and familar

Leaking, stained and dissimilar

Plans and schemes fading out like a welcome dream

Sadly, this isn't what we had foreseen

 

 

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I’ve sipped from empty cups too long, Been told to wait, to play it safe, To shrink my voice, to just belong— But silence never saved the brave. They fed me crumbs, called it enough, Said, “Be polite, don’t reach too far,” I smiled through hunger, swallowed tough, And wore my limits like a scar. No mo...

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I wrote these lines of love, my dear,

Before the cold days of the war.

When you were near, so near, my dear;

When I was close, so close, to here,

And no one knew what lay in store.

 

Now all these lines have chilled, my dear,

Though love remains, strong as before.

Now you are far, so far, my dear,

While I am shivering with fear;

And all we can expect is more.

 

...

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One June-born morn, he rose again,
From slumber deep, through fog and rain.
Top hat askew, stars slightly worn,
He blinked - confused, both proud and torn.

The billboards screamed in crimson red:
“Make America Great Again,” it said.
He frowned, recalling distant years,
Of sacrifice, of hopes, of tears.

He scrolled the screen with weathered hands:
Tax cuts, coal, divided lands.
Judges...

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Ages passed, still reppin' strong, 

 life wrote our script, we played along.

 Throwback laughs? Still in the air, 

 like vids we’d binge- -everywhere.

 

We were wild, riskin’ all, 

 hoppin’ fences, takin’ calls. 

 Now we glow, still got the dream, 

 past stays fresh, know what I mean?

 

Years slid by, like feeds we scroll, 

 memories saved, heart on patrol. 

...

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Firefighters fight fires,  

Freedom fighters fight liars,  

Fight to fulfill your wild desire—  

I fight for reasons much higher.  

 

Not for conquest, nor for greed,  

But for the justice some still need.  

Against deceit, against despair,  

Against the weight some cannot bear.  

 

Physical strikes performed with precision,  

A mental fight will make you question ...

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i found this araic poems here. i like it. 

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I wrote down this little poem 
it’s not complicated or smart 
Just a few lines of simple words 
that come from deep within my heart

For the times I can’t take your hand 
stand by your side or hold you tight
Know that I’m always here for you
every moment, day or night 

Wrap this promise up safe and sound 
keep it forever in your mind  
And should the need ever arise 
a virtual hug yo...

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Echoes of Childhood

 

Where are they now, these people who loved me?

Both of them dead, and that’s how it should be.

He went early, as his heart was cursed.

Her end was painful, a fate well deserved.

 

Six foot five, full of Guiness and fight,

Five foot four, full of vinegar and spite.

Belligerent bully, with fists of iron,

Constant critic with no shoulder to cry on.

...

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Technology is so complex.
It can make us mad and quite perplexed.
It can make us feel almost demented,
And we may wish that it was not invented.

Then our lives would be less complicated,
But should we be thankful that it was created?
And would we be better if we did forget
How we were to use the internet?

And would we be feeling more alone
If we lived our lives without our phone?
And...

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from the crumbling edge

of an insatiable Saturday

I tumble head first into the 

torpor of the god day,

where I founder, drowning 

beneath other peoples’ faith 

and robust sincerity,

a grey parson theatrically 

peels another raffle-ticket

from his library of lies, with 

the muted swagger of a 

gambler betting all-in 

on a dead-cert hereafter,

in this thicket o...

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