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So Right Yet So Wrong

When I know I'm doing wrong, but it just feels so right

When all I want to do all day is simply hold you tight

Your heart has been so broken, and this I know is true

Just want to stay close with you and you know I'll help you through 


There's light at the end of the tunnel, we both can see it there

I'll support you through this time, whether with me or elsewhere

We can get y...

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Men Without Women


Where would men be

without women

to influence our characters

and point out our weaknesses

men would be uncivilized

closer to animals

who only want to sleep and eat

we would be still be in dark caves

wearing skins and scratching ourselves

women give us inspiration

women give us aspiration

women tame the wildness in our hearts

without women

men would be sa...

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Also by d.knape:

C'est La Vie | Bee Lines | Aging Rock Stars | One-Way Conversation | Acrobats | We Never Asked | Cows & Climate | The Poor | Old School | Braless | Good Company | Letting Out The Cat | Burning Inspiration | Being Good |


If I suggested you jog down a motorway

A finger you would wag;

Yet you're ready to shorten life's own highway

Dying for a fag!

If I suggested you dip your hand

In a jar full of dangerous bugs

You'd get the needle - and I'd understand,

So why do it with dangerous drugs?

If I suggested daily you fill the sink

With the sort of booze that rots your guts

And drain it - wou...

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Also by M.C. Newberry:



If there is ever held a trial in a court of justice 

To punish the one who stabbed humanity in the eye,

don't go looking for any monster of extraordinary malice. 

Look my way, for the hideous wrongdoer is I.


Rip the clothes off my back and kick me down

Spit in my eye and then hand me the flog,

Because I alone deserve to wear the crown

of the cowardly, hypocritical, whimpe...

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Also by Mae Foreman:

GR (In the South) | It's Always Raining on Lonely Sreet, Haiku | Shadows and Shades |

The Spark !

The Spark !

Old age comes upon you

like a creeping weed or vine

a subtle early warning

that you're running out of time


When we realized it had us

firmly in its grip

we decided to go fighting

so we really let it rip:


No more early nights

sipping tea and watching telly;

we bought the 'Kama Sutra'

and really gave it welly !


We cruised out to Austr...

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Also by David Gabriel Caplan:

Talking with god | Haiku (Thailand) | Monochrome Days: (Poetry for Schools) | The Cockroach (Poetry for Schools) | Meltdown | Overlooked |

cruiseholidaykama sutraold age


entry picture

crocuses and snowdrops push up their merry heads

the cairn on the woodland path marks the unburied dead

the fleeting wisps of winter, detrius on the skeletal trees

the very occasional dew drop hanging on the weeds

this man he is an old man, Gaelic and rare

who stares into the fire, in his isolated lair

an bóthar ag taisteal na sióga....

aye, the road that the fairies take can ...

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Also by John E Marks:

Occasional flowers | From woman better things spring | For Kassia: a bold and beautiful Byzantine poet | Alternative histories | Time's fool | An unholy curiosity | Elegy for Anna | SOLVING | Oscar goes to the zoo | On the way to the dance | Wild is the Way | Stutterer | The Scylla, | Pain | There is no patriotic art, just grievance | The swinging bridge | Just deserts | Heavenly | To the ghost-dancers of the Sioux - dedicated to my good friend, Jacob | Why we need to fly (for my good friend, Jacob) | Ch-ch-changes | Pouring out the vitriol |


Suppressed anger

At its best


Tightly squeezing air from chest


Meditation and salvation


Never feeling any confirmation


Always seeking an explanation



And hyperventilation


Anger is like a bubbling pot

Once you start

Its impossible to stop



Waiting for a fresh new season


Never needing a proper reason



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Also by Lysa d:

Single mom's | Ready ;-) | I just want my mum | We are all apart of art | Blowing hot and cold | Mistaken | Grounded | Shame | Authentic self |

Ghost writer

A shadow drawing across my notebook

a guiding hand for my uncertain pen

another mind thinking my thoughts

the ghost writer begins to take over.


Words from a different realm

sentences flowing from beyond

aiding me with my creative void

the ghost writer is taking over.


Holding my unsteady hand

boldly streams of words do flow

happy am I with my expressive frien...

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Also by Jon Stainsby:

Gentle caress | Hiding amongst the molecules | Beyond this place | My Realm |


Who are the real culprits?

Why only common people die

When there is a riot or a war

While the politicians and administrators don't die

They only hide behind the crimes with woeful smiles


Why only the poor have to suffer

While the rich stays in homes comfortable

The women are raped, men are killed and children orphaned

The government passes bill inorder of country's protection


Why only the j...

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Also by Do:

Superior Race? | All for love!! | Speed!!!! | Drug addiction!! | It's a new day!! | by the fire!! | Who is he? | Whispering wisdom!!! | If a hug could fly!! | little corner in your heart!! (love song) | A blanket of HOPE | Haiku (feel of seasons) | If words could find some space!!! |

Dyslexia Rules KO

Though I've had 50 years practice,

Dyslexia still wins sometimes,

I'll miss out, "The's," and, "Me's and, "My's,"

While I focus on rhythm and rhyme.


But I know if I'm gonna crack this,

Have disciplined linguistic lines,

I'll just have to smile and toil for a while,

Re-read, edit, refine.


So if you are reading my stuff,

Probably best go with the flow,

If the ...

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Also by Jason Bayliss:

Be My Guide | Chatting By The Stovetop | Strong And Silent | The Silent Word | The Slant And The Chant | Coin | Whipping Willow | Coffee Pot | In This World | Ms.Donohoe Poetry Tennis Champion. | Yesterdays Kiss | Incline Lupine | Drive | Silver Shot Pocket Watch | Distil By Will | Words | Trust Me |

He Sleeps in a Box

He Sleeps in a Box


I know a man who suffers from PTSD

an ex serviceman damaged for life

He sleeps in a cardboard box

in the doorway of a shop in the High Street


Should there be a deal or no deal Brexit

politicians debate endlessly without result

I know a man who sleeps in a cardboard box

in the doorway of a shop in the High Street


Local elections are due l...

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Also by keith jeffries:

A Large Wooden Door | The Spring Offensive | The Beast | All will be well | Aerials | National Character | The Sugar Bowl |

child like

the snow whispers, gently falling 

a child like dream revealed

Crisp white snow 

upon a starched white path 

To a wonderland I will go

To make a footprint 

To slide along

To build a snowman 

a carrot for his nose

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The red wood | Ochre | Do not wander into this fearful night |


Jagged white screams

sharpen to icicles

brittle tears lie scattered

and ground underfoot

diamond cut streams

lost in the labyrinth

fast frozen in time

at the moment of truth.


Holder of secrets

the cut glass of plenty

sharp as a dagger

the chilling white wine

cruel as a cutting edge

shards of bright silver

encrusted with sapphires

cold by design,

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Also by Dorothy Webb:



not what you see

Not what you see


 It looked an idyllic scene

a farmer with a sweet, little red tractor

was ploughing a feel while his mule now unemployed

stood under a carob tree resting.

The tractor stopped no more fuel, the man went to

the nearest petrol station to buy some more, but a dreamer

walked past gave the tractor pink wings, saw it flew

towards the sun.

The farmer went t...

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Also by jan oskar hansen:

anit this and that | once when | the aged | the way it used to be | a horse | forget me not | I knew of a writer | a new society | conspiracy thinking | a calamitous night | cats | the failed writer | sunlit Cascais | Brexit 2 | dementia | the Norwegian club | epigram 5 |

The Giving

The thought of you brings tears to my eyes

It fills me with anger the type of anger where

the hair on my arms stand at attention. 

My mind recalling all the times you put me in my place.

Reminding me I was nothing more than an ego boost for you.

If I gave you my blood, sweat, heart, and my tears 

would that be enough for you to love the way I deserve to be loved?

The again the...

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Also by erbc:

Life After Love |

#creative#giving#heartbreak #teen

Let Him Go

Once you let him go, you will feel so free. There will be so much less drama in your life. Once he is out of your life, you can focus on what truly matters… loving yourself. Loving yourself in a way that he never could love you.

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freedomLetting Goloveselflove

The soul in the heart

entry picture

The soul in the heart

Sunday,17th February 2019


The human heart is sensible

and struggle

not to reveal

true feels


it beats silently

and doesn't come out openly

to show the inner joy

but silently enjoy


let the heart remain

fully protected and hidden

as it finds visible heaven

on earth and stays driven


sentiments are the only treasures


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Also by Hasmukh Mehta:

Nation pays homage | Nation in rage | Born fighter | Heaven on earth | Not from weakness | Is poetry deceptive? | Voice of freedom | The life we lead | Despite being good | On her birthday | In the team | Reposition | Head of the family | Paradise here | Holier than | Join me there | Untimely critical phase | No pain to soul | Twists and turns | Speaks volumes | Role of human beings | Real joy | Natural objects | Smile with | Nature has turned deadly | With affection and care | Asylum seeker |



entry picture



Leaves drift caught in sun

shafts shimmer gold as silver

gifts splash outstretched hand

water spheres hurled from

nebulous grey clouds above

swirling winds tease memories


Frances Macaulay Forde © 2010

(Written to artwork in Raincheck Exhibition by Jessica McCallum in 2010.)

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Also by Frances Macaulay Forde:

Wardrobe Mistress - '85 | Cockatoo Chorus (Poetry for Schools) | Play me... | Yellow Daze |


Doorstep Beauty

Broadleaved woodland spreads alongside

open meadow, wetland and arable farmland

Cereal and vegetable, thriving in abundance, 

in this gem to the eye of the beholder.


They are sheltered by their taller friends:

Oak and poplar

Cherry and birch

Rowan, Willow, Larch and Pine

I wish these were all friends of mine

Conifer, Hemlock

Sycamore and Maple

Standing tall li...

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Also by Fred Varden:

Decisions | VERTIGO | Sat Navigation | I’m a footie fan! |


entry picture

Poem 116 of 230: MOSES GATE - SUMMER 2000

Bordering Bolton
Lies land with lodges - 
Grassed and paved around,
With decking built on.

As well as these lakes
Of human-made kind,
Croal, Irwell, canal
Meet there like three snakes.

There’s ‘paths for horses,
A birdwatching hut,
An info. centre,
Plus walkers’ courses.

And, surrounding these,
The woods have grown thick,
So, viewed from afa...

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360 " eyes !

Every soul have thier capsule 

it may be hard as you or soft as me 

yes you have caught it right !

how can we prescribe  with an 1.5 kg? 

to describe the similars of life 

non with miracle wand or pure with seed...

it looks like the same flashes of stars 

when you get to see edges of sphere ..

walk around the circle to reach the helical core.

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Introduction to Love

My love for you wells up from


A feeling indescript

A warmth rising from the heart

A rush of oxytocin through the


Immediate and pressing

Without urgency or smothering

Felt from my legs to my


And in every chakra the yoga-doers tell us of

From the crown above my head

To the root they speak of in awkward Puritanical tones

Tones we do not need, m...

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Also by Duncan Adelaide:

PAGAN THE NIGHT - Vision the First |

The Migration Of Shadows

There’s a part of the world
not many get to see
like the underside of a pearl
deep in a black sea.

The shadow of its form
covers continents in clouds
while a multicoloured storm
turns halos to shrouds.

And there’s cities made of Night,
there the long-forgotten sing
of a time when there was light
and day and Sun and spring.

But now the seasons mutely wilt
as flowers torched in sh...

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Also by Kealan Coady:

Airstrike From The Eleventh Density | Tectonic | Spine Fire (Instructions For Survivors Of Kundalini) | The Ghosts We Haunt | The Dark At The End Of The Tunnel | This Corpse Eats The Stars With Bloody Feet | A Nightmare Room Made Of Broken Glass And Spider's Legs | Someone At The Door |


delicate boys

and intricate poisons

coax solemn oaths

from intimate whispers

like prayers to nameless loneliness

and longing


but jealous daylight

still grips her knife

in wait to kill

what she cannot take

from night

though all that was

once wild in us

is now retreating

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Also by elPintor:

distant history | subversive |

Through a Glass,  Pinkly,  in Robin Hood’s Bay

This was late June, maybe early July.

I was booked to sing. The cafe was packed.  

A three-legged stool available at

a sea-view verandah table. I made  

space beside a red-haired stranger.  She wore

a red dress.  Was kismet at work for me?  

Memories flooded me. The torpid stream

of weeks and months of mornings and evenings

spent vainly waiting for my heart to stir,

and ...

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Also by Rick:

Ma Chouette | By Train |

The Power of Poetry in Hospice Care 

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Poetry about Real People - The power of poetry in hospice care 

There is a tension between the advance of medical science, that pursues its ability to fix and treat, and an acceptance of the natural order of death and how that may be experienced. Atul Gawande, a surgeon and health researcher, has reignited this debate with his book 'Being Mortal' (and also presented the 2014 Reith Lectures on B...

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artcreativitydyingend of lifehealthhospicewellbeing

Keep Calm And Carry On (The Poem, mk2)


High above your head a pastel dove hangs-
but why would you look away from your daily concerns?
Drive through weathers to reach your destination.
The bird is gliding there. Stand stock still 
for that momentous decision. The bird hovers there.
From the distance imposed on me
I follow the bird with a watchful eye
and therefore yourself through all your battles.
You live your sorrows an...

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Also by Adam Whitworth:

The Poem, mk 1 | News From Dartford |

Catch the wind

Do you remember the wind?
She's hard to hear over the hum of air-conditioning.
When the world gets too much,
I head to the harbour to remember her voice.
I nestle in the body of my boat and think I'd love to cup my hands and catch her.
To take the wind captive, to wrestle her to the ground and expose her secrets.
People need to hear what she has to say.
Waves lap against the hull while I wa...

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Also by Kate G:

Pay attention | Silent soapbox | Labrat |

"The Dulling"

The smouldering of my heart

listlessly spat out colourless mote.

The fire was no longer blazing,

and my vision was greyed and glazed in

weighted sheets of smoke.


There had been an onslaught

of waning passion;

a slow slaughter of song;

a crucifixion;

a paroxysm of portents

pulling me into their whorling.


A dark night in itself,

with all of its quietude


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Flow like water and explore you’re deepest truths 

Be young and expressive never compressive 

Untended depression leads up to aggression 

Improper digression leads up to the stressing 

The stressing leads up to me searching for weapons 

While screaming and shouting don’t nobody help me 

Continue to strive pushing forward so desperate 

Surrounded by many but feeling so desolate...

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Also by Mr.Anonymous:

Indecision | Exhausting | No title |

#poetry #poem

The Drawer


Open me, please

Let me unravel my content

Layer by layer, please strip

me naked


Prepare yourself, be careful

There are lots of sharp 

objects in here

Ready to strike, out of fear


Stay calm

Open me slow

Disarm all the pins and needles

Put away the scissors


Gently handle the knives 

and razors

Give it time, don’t rush

Be cautious 



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Also by Anya:

Green | The String |


If you become 
what you think about 
most of the time... 

I am becoming 
poetry, a lyrical 
fantasy floating 
in rhyme. 

I am becoming 
love and light,

Doing my best
to do what's right.

I am becoming 
and peace. 

Healing souls
like Wayne 
and Louise.  

I am becoming
who God intended
me to be.

Leaving a loving

I am becoming 



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Also by Vautaw:

Stupid Cupid | Echoes of Life | To My Valentine | Ghosting | Sad Eyes | Soul Mates & Muses | Oasis | Soul Flames & Star Dust | Cha-Chi Legacy | Dancing with Addiction | Kings and Scribes |

destinyfaithfantasyforgivenessfreedomGodhealinglegacylightLouise HaylovepeacepoetryrhymesoulsWayne Dyer

Daydream When Drizzle

entry picture

I grabbed your greetings that's far
while I daydream when drizzle
as if you were in my arms
inhale wet counting rain

tunable splash of water
decorate our longing that continues to flow
in the will to understand each other
when we have to enjoy distance

sometimes there is anxiety passing
when a sense of desire has a strong presence
but realize love trusts each other
tie our hearts to...

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Also by Suko Waspodo:

Blend The Heart of Instinct | Lovely Early Morning | About Our Feelings | Embrace Your Sincere Love | My Longing's in Your Dreams | Romantic Love Fantasy |



Betray her not with flowers,

while sharing her sweet scent.

Her petals take time to open

and spring may yet repent.

For she who belongs to nature

has passions of her own.


So shade your restless cloisters

wherein you foster your pretty games,

lest you perjure her moonglow dreams

and bring her down in flames.

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Also by ray pool:


Poem from One of Our New Collections

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Less Than a Second

Less than a second

is the time it takes to fall in love.

             That summer night

             you walked out of the bright house

             on to the dark deck

             ready for the next day's wedding,

             already celebrating every damn thing

             anyone could think of,

             laughter floating out of your pores


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No entiendo

Me voy hiendo

A otro lado

Y congelado

Palabras no me quedan

¿A dónde me llevan?



A Dios...


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Also by Orvus Nine:

Mestizaje |

White Lie

Lie to me 

I don't believe you

Look me in the eyes and tell me I'm wrong 

but believe me, I know the truth 

I can feel the emptiness behind your tongue 

speaking of fictional reality 

Try to fool me 

Eventually it will bleed 

I can feel my heart sink into my back 

oh you should have known

even the whitest lie is spoken by evil 

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Also by BIG FISH:

Let Go |

white lies

Baking Soda

Like every mamma, she had her own remedies,

like baking soda

on a canker sore. It doesn’t sound easy,

but it worked; besides, her own

mother (my grandmother, died before

I was born) tried this on her,

"And see? I survived." (Shrug).


Still, I wouldn’t do it by myself.

She had to bend before me

at the bathroom sink, tug

at my lip to expose the ulcer,

milk white ...

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Also by Paris Tate:

This Closure | The Stigma | Black Candles | When the DJ Played “Lovefool” on the First Night of Carnival Season in a New Orleans Nightclub, 2018 | The Storyteller | Scared | Before I'm Thirty | The Vanilla Girl | This It, Take It All | Ice Skating In New Orleans | Introvert's Day Off | Snapshots |

No, I really don't care what Gail wrote on Facebook

“Ooh, have you seen what Gail's put on Facebook?”

“About Jade's Spanish lodger? Right made me giggle.”

“Bet you can guess what's underlined in her phrase book!”

“When I told our Kylie she fainted in Lidl.”

“She said, ‘well that explains the bar through her nipple! ‘“

“She definitely has. I've seen it full frontal.”

“So I guess the kids have another new uncle?”

“What has she be...

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Also by Darren Winter:

There were only seven chicken meatballs in my pack of eight | A dodoitsu on Tinder | Sandwich fillings: an elegy |

comedycomiccomic versefacebookfunnyhumorous poemhumorous verselight verseShort Funny Poems

When She Left

the pain of the vacant page                                      stage

for the dance

of my pen


the fear of the frozen mind                                        blind

  to the hope

 of a rhyme


the silence of an empty house                                spouse

to the song

of my word


the hush of unwanted time                                      chime


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Also by Chris Armstrong:

The Shed | The Old Field Gate | Snow Fields | Dyn Hysbys |




Resting By The Fireside.   Ch. 2  (Page 8)


Leaving the wood behind us,

our journey now well underway

It is time to rest before slumber,

for tomorrows another busy day.


We’ll dance and sang and read poetry

fill our bellies, drink wine and fine beer

As we gather around the blazing fireside

Safe and warmed from the cold night air


To think, ju...

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Also by poemagraphic:

Why Bother? | Why? | The Music Box | Hypo | The Digital Dunce | Po’s prose prologue The UNDERWOOD Chapter 2 | Running up Moonbeams | The Sword of ‘Damocles’ | The UNDERWOOD Page 6 | Millstone of malaise | Beyond the neon sign |


The Man Upstairs

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When she died in her ground floor flat

and had gone to join The Man Upstairs,

the man upstairs, concerned that he had not seen her for a few days,

came downstairs and when he saw her

said a quick prayer to The Man Upstairs,

went back upstairs to his flat

then went up another flight to tell the man upstairs

that the lady downstairs had gone to join The Man Upstai...

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Also by Brian Maryon:

Everything You Need to Know About Gloucester | Ronnie's Pants (and so is his bowling) |

A Valentines night: who would've imagined!

And here I am

In the darkness

All alone with my thoughts

Thinking about you.

Two different worlds

You and I.

And literally speaking,

Two different continents!

Yet so close, binded by 

Social media. 

Impostors, strangers, 

And hooligans want to be you!

I would've never thought to say this..

But thanks to them

 I know who you are.

Something in your eyes,


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Not Again, Not Again

You can never get me back

Which I had lost

The respect I had

In the eyes of my

Near ones..

You can’t fill that gap again


Not again, Not again

I am not going to look back again

Please keep distance from me

I already moved on, moved on

Keep your eyes away from me

I think now it’s easy for you to believe


Not again, Not again

Please don’t come again


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Also by Bindu Trigunayak:

You are my Valentine |

A Terrible Fate

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As my mind hopelessly arrivals into nothing
My existence fading from everywhere
I plead for you not to look at the outcome 
please remember me for who I was
This dark embraces is all I've become
Just who could tear me apart like this
Is she the silence step that I forgot
Is there something more that's caving my chest in
I'm unraveling the truth but it's breaking me more
I'll soon be nothi...

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Also by Damon Blackery:

Thoughts That Go Like Bullets Through You | The Ghost of Me | The T-Virus | Let's Pretend I'm Fine Like You Do | The Grin of A Killer 2 Little John Doe | The Grin of A Killer | A Broken Callous Heart | Happiest I've Ever Been | Maybe | Rubbish Poem |

Pinch me

Why is it that i often find myself asking those around me

how they feel about something after they vent to me?

i want in depth details, its addicting...


could it be because i am so empty on the inside

that i have a need to know exactly what others are feeling? 


...someone pinch me

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Two Flowers

Two kinds of flowers are in life's garden sown -

the first are words and deeds that spread a name;

for laurel wreaths and eulogies they're grown

that blow such blossoms of the mind to fame.


The second are the flowers of the flesh -

their growers wish beyond the grave to be

borne down their childrens' childrens' bloodlines fresh;

both seek one trophy - immortality.



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Also by Chris Laverty:

Idle Hours |

two flowers poem chris laverty

Life and death the only real question.

I am the undying

Forever flying

Lost in a dream of death.


The cigarette dances upon my lips

At four of the morning time

A time for mourning mime.


There is no sleep for the lost

I feel it deeply to my cost

Just to feel death so close.


The rope in my closet calls to me

All could be over all could be free

But it just won’t be.


I dream awake of n...

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Also by Phil Kay:

Bach | Ugly | Son | Panama Love | The Oxygen thief | Soul? | Light | Stories to tell early 1980 | 68 Grafton St 1977 | Fiery heart | Lost love | My Son | Free the mind | Amsterdam 1982 | Reflection refraction. | Kill Them All | pub | (untitled) | A night out in Jack Dempsy's bar New York. 1980. | So I Hit Him | They're Only Words. | Last Night. |




I crave your very presence.

To the point where I am starving inside.

Your touch is the greatest of Christmas presents.

In you, my heart has chosen to confide.


Your smile radiates far more than a thousand suns.

To the point where shades don’t block the glow.

Your heart is strong enough to carry a thousand tons.

Because of you, I would live in fire o...

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Also by Ty:


love of a vinyl obsessive: (a short valentines record poem)

Anyone asking if i am single today
will be told i am the album.
a long player by trade
there is room for extended play also
although anyone who puts you down as the 7" or 12" extended mix 
is only after one thing.

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Also by Keiron Higgins:

No more heartfelt apologies. | confessions of a vinyl addict |

Show more entries …

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