checkmate

i wait for you to be better

softer, like i know you can be

kindness slips through the cracks

but right when i see,

you stuff it back in like it was a dream

you wait for me to be worse

slip up, even the playing field you cursed

but i never sharpen my words

even when it’s deserved

in a few months, or years

when the last straw breaks my heart

i’ll break the sound barr...

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friendshipfriendsangeremotionsyouthlovehigh school

Ode to Blackie Beach

ODE TO BLACKIE BEACH 

By the Urban Poet

A place where nature shines

through dark waters

Where memories glisten

as we intently listen

to the birds and our memories

of good times past

 

A childhood passing on so fast

But although they all seem out of reach

Thoughts come alive at Blackie Beach

At Blackie beach was where we played

and skimmed our stones

not fa...

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🌷(1)

Also by Rick Varden:

I Wish I Was There | If These Things | Here Kitty |

LONDON FLASHBACK

LONDON FLASHBACK

 

London is a craven haven for corrupting taste.

Police motorbikes were being chased by the waste.

I spent a year down there after my degree -

even slept rough – but didn’t feel that free.

The riots were lootings: Christmas on earth

didn’t follow on in the town of my birth.

I busked for next to nothing, saw old friends

but abandoned ship – my each adv...

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Also by JOHN F B TUCKER:

THE STERILISED HOTEL | THE READING | DOWN | THAT BLACK NATURAL E | I KNEW THAT SHE LOVED ME | IN THE BLUE ROOM |

Like Father-like Son?

What did you do in the genocidal ' war ' today Dad?

oh I just shot a few starving people who had walked miles in the hot sun

for a bag of flour 

will I grow up to be like you Dad?

if Lucifer and I have anything to do with it

you DEFINITELY will!

Read and leave comments (0)

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Also by LEON STOLGARD:

Tarnishment | My tasty belief in the Ceylon hillside plantation leaf | Le Chat noir | Down on my uppers | Developed and delivered miracle ( Otis ) |

The Angelus Prayer (The Holy Family Church ,Gaza 17 Jul 25)

 

 

No Bells sound,

just silence between the drones.

 

The air is still,

in cotton shroud, two waxen faces leer.

 

Saint's from painted walls,

stare with sightless eyes, mirrors not tears.

 

The living weep,

to contemplate the incarnation of The Christ...

 

here in Broken flesh,

as if laid out beneath some grotesque Calvary...

 

from the hanging s...

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🌷(1)

Also by David RL Moore:

What of Courage? | Waiting | Everything but the truth | The nutritional value of a bullet |

Game of Thrones

Corruption and deformity

must haunt the major dynasty:

a scheming witch, licentious imp,

a severed hand, sadistic prince;

suggestions of incest, perhaps,

and Charles Dance wearing gravitas.

 

Let there be dragons far beyond

commanded by a fiery blonde,

whose husband looks like Genghis Khan -

though she might be a lesbian.

That head he’s skewered on his knife

onc...

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🌷(1)

Also by Ray:

Watching Glastonbury On The TV |

Tick a Box

and straightaway 

it set me thinking

aged sixteen in ‘67,

the Vietnam war

sterling going to shit

and protest going from

strength to strength

the Cold War and 

Ban the Bomb,

I’d met the girl who

would be my wife

my summer of love 

so in all honesty

If I’d had the vote

would I have really

given a fuck?

probably not!

© Graham R Sherwood 07/25

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🌷(1)

Also by Graham Sherwood:

Old Verbs Rule OK |

Do you like humans?

Do you even like humans 

 

I’m on team plant 

do I have to 

explain 

the benefits 

 

I’ve been dosed 

by their oxygen 

I want to do is grow 

as high as I can

 

then decompose 

and come back 

as 

a shiny rock 

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🌷(1)

The boy, the washwoman, the star

For years, the boy walked past the washwoman who lived by the village church and washed her rags in the street for all to see

Catching his glance, one day she said, ‘Dear boy, in time you will fall in love with the sound of a merman’s lullaby. The night star above the ancient oak will guide you to him’ 

 

Years past. Humming a merman’s lullaby, the boy, now nearing middle age, walked past...

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Also by Lee Campbell:

safe in your hands | my name is not stephen |

Don't Cry For Me Liverpool

 

Don’t cry for me Liverpool, I have to go away.

My ‘call up’ papers, arrived in the post today.

The Army will train me to be a fighting man.

I will serve my Country and do the best I can.

 

Don’t cry for me Liverpool, plenty more like me.

Going off to war, to fight over land, air and sea.

Never been away before or left my comfort zone.

I will really miss my kids and my ...

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Also by Mike Bartram:

Diogo Jota RIP 1996 2025 |

a sigh, verbally-breathed

 

 


There was a time
     when you used to confide in me
     shared the innermost stirring of your heart;
     when you used to feel safe in me,
     entrusted what others couldn't hear out loud.

There was a time
     when we were close enough,
     nourished a friendship pure and free;
     when nothing outside bothered,
     heard the fellowship of the soul.

There was a ti...

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Also by Red Brick Keshner:

letter from a quieter version of me | an orchard’s lament | sunbeam records | celestial school of verse | under the yew | part savage, part human | feasting you | a dance between skies | ear to Endymion | June 14, 2010: journal entry |

rkayarqiosgalateuscrypticbardredbrickkesnerexcalibardarkayyerikske

The cats and dogs at bay

Dogs are howling in my face

Cats cry out their sad refrain

And the cosy warm fire chants are broken

Sold on down the street by every prevailing

Wind of fashion and far off passion

As she grows and crows that it is so unfair

And that I don’t know what it’s like

Except I do and I am tired of trying

To hold on to the silence in my head

Instead of wanting to throw it awa...

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Go green NOW and stay alive !!

"Eat your greens, "grandma used to say,

They make a clean sweep,a gentle broom that makes your day.

Sit in comfort and regularly on your toilet seat ,

No strain or constipation,thanks to your green treat.

 

Eating greens is my future staying alive plan,

In toxic times cutting out sugar,I pray I can .

Green veg has been shown to brush cancer away.

To increase greenery in you...

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Also by hugh:

Sugar !!! | An act of kindness leads to a divine reward | Death and our fate on The Day of Judgement |

I guess I'll just type with my fingers (then). 

Miserable humans, miserable people.
They can't really stand when you're just like your own.
"Should have been this," "should have been that"—
Always complaining but never alone.

I can't force them into therapy.
I can't really make them not.
They're part of les misérables—
But not the play,
Just the life they've got!

Miserable humans, miserably people.
They don't even try to make thin...

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Also by Auracle:

miss-stick match | Like a paper crane (you flew away) | The Crisis That Necked Me | Through land, sea and air (Ter land, ter zee en in de lucht) | Not being a Catholic.  | A good coping mechanism, next time we'll do the medicines | A good coping mechanism, next time we'll do the medicines | The Survival of the Last Broken Word |

I guess I'll just type with my fingers (then). 

"Everybody Is Brave To Dance" (Just written!)

 

 

Everybody Is Brave To Dance

 

Everybody is brave to dance 

In the Vampire's Castle in daylight 

Until it noticed on the windows

How light had been painted a picture 

The music chops time as senses

 

Everybody is brave to dance

Street tactics beneath volcano

Until the lava reveals wore clothing

And there at the desk even booking 

Didn't see traffic cabi...

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Also by Aaron Murdoch:

"James Bond Went Wrong" (Ken Loach directed Bond film I wrote for) | Knowledge and Death In The Calculator State |

Dance

The Rain

You may often hear stories about the sun greeting the day,
but what about the sky weeping, washing the light away?

You look around, and somehow,
darkness is all you know.

Even the path beneath your feet feels like betrayal,
slippery enough to make you fall.

And the air feels more piercing,
cold enough to cut through your skin.

But what if the rain is actually saying,
"It is safe f...

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Also by Yanma Hidayah:

Human | Today, I’ll Be Fine | “I Don’t Believe in My Wings” |

If I am

If I am alone 

then I know you are alone with me.

 

Then why does it feel so empty

And why is my day greeted with silence

And why am I never the one picking up the phone

 

And I can’t help but think

that your day is over 

without me in it.

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She Turns Her Body Into A Question

Our moon slips red—eclipse’s voyeur shadow cups her breast.

She lies still, a fawn, beneath my tear-brimmed eyes.

Her breath—dream’s morning dew?—a whispered request?

Light turns slowly, touch between her parted thighs.

She moans a whispered song—arching, “come to me.”

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Also by Gaia's Soothing Haven:

Where The Birches Meet | Her Blossom Falls | Orgasm Of Dawn | The Day Love Flies |

eroticlovedesirenaturismquadrille

Twisting Daze

Daylight.
4am.
Skylight.
Sweat.

Brittle birdsong.
Troublesome sunlight.
Early morning
Talking loudly.

Over thinking, 
Over dreaming,
Weary contemplation,
My twisting daze.

Daylight. 
4am.
Skylight.
Sleep.
 

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Also by Tim Daly:

Night Air |

THE GREEN MILE

Here is the story – a book and film too

Incredible but some stories are true

An ebony giant John Coffey the name

He said “Like the drink but it's not spelled the same”

Convicted of murder – a kangaroo trial

John Coffey must soon walk the shortest Green Mile

 

With noose and with guns they came from the town

Cradling two bodies was how he was found

Two little children rav...

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Also by John Coopey:

ALFIE | "AS SURE AS GOD'S IN GLOUCESTER..." | BUCKET LIST | HELLO DARKNESS MY OLD FRIEND |

Brand New Heart ❤️

On a flaming June afternoon
We met and I did swoon
The planets they all aligned
Romance we were to find
Peace and harmony flowed 
The seeds of love were sowed
We were singing a happy song
But tragedy it soon came along

I wanna brand new heart
Take me back to the very start
Let me be born once again
To live my life free from pain
I wanna brand new heart
I wanna brand new heart

I l...

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Also by Tom Doolan:

Killer Smile | Everyday Is Pain | Here Today Gone Tomorrow | World On Fire | Wishes Come True |

Homage to Nietzsche

"One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star." Frederick Nietzsche

Photo by Zane Lee on Unsplash

 

Now, only the vestiges remain:
conduct a forensic examination,
then scatter the remains,
feel the fragility of the body,
in the furtherance of the truth,
note the devil’s-in-the-detail,
condemned at the root.

A roof for his daughter,
over a p...

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Also by John E Marks:

CHILDREN | Forethought | FOSSIL: Bridges of Silence |

dejavu dejavu (03/07/2025)

time brines 

and wrinkles deepen

 

during times like these, I'd rather be pressed 

like a tulip shoot

 between the pages 

of a diary,  

and left to dry,

 preserved 

hidden from the scorn of spotlight

as it spins over the face of fascists

well-known and

smiling, 

glisten-toothed and hungry 

eager to make nations forget 

the smell 

the soot

of a fur...

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Also by Zach Dafoe:

a corpse among crows (07/15/2025) |

icoulddiehistoryrhymes

Let's Avoid All

Discussion is overrated.

              Julia ran to Sebastian to fight for her; did she fight wholeheartedly for her love or give up nobly

                       in the face of stunning competition?

Did she hide; disguise, anguish in silence

                                   unknown to those around her who knew her so well, 

         Was her loyalty rewarded mightily?

Love is lo...

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Also by MKMK:

Do You Hear a Dance |

Smiles (For the People of Ukraine)

You almost bleed your smiles these days,

Like acting out a tiny death;

Though your pinched faces still resist,

You have to measure every breath.

 

I notice, each time that you cry,

Your tears no longer flow, they spill.

Do those inflicting this foul mess

Consider what they really kill?

 

I see you trying to join in fun,

Whenever someone makes a joke,

But laughte...

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Also by Stephen Gospage:

The Public Mood | According to the poet |

UkraineVictoryPeace

The rule

 

 

Two foreign bodies

moving in an irregular orbit

with collisions and distances

carved paths neither common nor separate

in a strange, unique world

they loved, they hurt, they separated and

lived a parallel, nostalgic life

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🌷(5)

Handala, Speed with our Love on the Wing!

I first had the idea for this song / poem on hearing the news about the good ship Madleen, setting out for Gaza.

 

Thunberg and her crewmates were not “deported” from Israel. The Madleen was illegally detained, her crew illegally abducted / kidnapped to Israel, and then released, after the Madleen’s cargo of aid had been stolen.

 

The so-called “personalities” - several failed “comedia...

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🌷(8)

Also by Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh:

I am Palestine Action | Haiku for 2025 [No. 25. My Jihad] | Haiku for 2025 [ No. 24. Palestine Action] |

The HandalaGazalovePalestinehumanitycouragehope

Loss and Found

In my dream I see the wind
blowing away the sand.

Loss, like the sand and wind
working together, fills my thoughts.

But the waves always
bring the sands back, in time.

So, I still look for you,
out amid the breakers.
 

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Also by Mike McPeek:

An Excellent View | Driving in L.A. |

Waves

Unwieldy canopy stopping flow

Come speedy panoply hopping crow

Dream of giant seedlings grow

Team of high antenna meekly glow

But cancer giving waves you sow

Subtle dancer living saves too low

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Dashing Doris and Timid Timothy

I used to wear a bra to cover my emerging ‘moobs’, the result
of a beer-filled diet, then stroll through the gay town of Brighton,
curious to what lay within its environs,
sometimes donning a skirt and panties, enthusiastically greeted by camp males,
who saw in me a kindred spirit.

Although actually heterosexual – when inviting a female for afternoon tea,
I was so boring; she would often l...

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Remembering You.

 

Silently, I walk, wringing anxious hands,

Crossing acres of once familiar land.

Fast-flowing memories of what was then,

That'll forever stay as my former when.

 

Mainly unminded though unforgotten,

Desires driven that were once begotten.

An age where optimism is attained,

Where possible, feared dreams are not contained.

 

My future holds with little certainty,

...

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Also by JD Russell:

Death of Fanny Adams | Tales from a Woman's Refuge | Write Love? |

To Heaven Or To Hell …

To heaven – shouted the crowd.

Their voices were not too loud.

An angel looked a bit aside

As if he had something to hide.

 

We'll take care of him without any turn,

I think he has something to learn.

He'll have to sing another song

As this one seems to be too long.

 

 

The crowd has begun to shout,

Some of them began to doubt.

An angel took care of God,

H...

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Also by Larisa Rzhepishevska:

I Know Those Who Hate The War |

play by replay


You think I don’t still feel it? 
The echo never left. 
It’s in the light that spills 
across the floor like we used to—
chaotic, accidental, warm.

Yes, I heard every word 
you didn’t mean and the silence 
that swallowed what we couldn’t say.

Time doesn’t rewind, but it replays. 
Not in full—just flashes. 
Your laugh— like a match 
right before the burn.

I wish we’d argued soft...

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Also by Wimpole Street Devils:

part savage, part human | upon a shot that lit the roof alight; June 29, 1613 |

wsdwimpolestdevilsgalateusrkaypoeticianpoemist

Meh!

The morning brings a nothing kind of day,

can’t see the sun, and wind is just a breeze.

Up overhead, the clouds float high, mid-grey,

that says the threat of rain is but a tease.

 

No stirring of the blood with summer storms

set loose to blow the dreariness away;

a day that strikes the normalest of norms

to dull even the drabbest sort of day.

 

Why can’t there be a ga...

Read and leave comments (1)

🌷(9)

Also by Trevor Alexander:

Forever Love | Anyone For Tennis |

Sonnet

Remembering my brother homeless but the richest person I know

You were loved. It warms my heart to hear how people remember you. You had nothing but every person that ever crossed paths with you speak of your generosity. Your immense compassion burst from you never hesitating to share the little you had scraped together. I am proud to call you my brother. So beautifully remembered you may not have had anything worldly but you were rich beyond words. I'm humb...

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Loss of a siblinggriefanger

They Live Unashamed

They move through life with quiet might,
No need to dim their inner light,
No borrowed guilt, no hidden face,
They have carved their path, they hold their place!

The world once tried to draw the line,
To box their truth, to redefine,
But they broke through, refused to stay,
Where silence asks the soul to pay!

Each flaw they wear with honest pride,
No need to run, no need to hide,
The...

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Also by Aisha Suleman:

The Quiet Path |

Post 20s

I strived for light brighter than my torch, keenly

Overlooked cues of collectively sourced beams

I learned, scouted for candle stores, shared maps

 

I passed cold shoulders to who refused me a hand

Now, I figured, those I cried help from needed it too

Adulting reveals, some greetings have requests attached

 

I have been losing fights in my own 3am dreams

A sedulous being...

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ARRIVAL OF CONCRETE

ARRIVAL OF CONCRETE

The old woman pottered

in a coal-dark house

with an inscrutable history 

from before our time;

she'd shout at kids

who messed in the meadow.

 

Buttercups and poppies

scattered colour

across that wild expanse

where dock leaves

apparently cured nettle stings

and the travellers said

the field contained

cures for most ailments.

 

T...

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My Poems

I believe all my poems to be refined,
And to have an impact upon our mind.
And although they're deep and thoroughly planned,
Each one is quite easy to understand.

They may be about people or about things,
And aimed towards beggars right up to kings.
And they show us how to appreciate life,
And hold happiness whilst dealing with strife.

They may be about thoughts or our emotions.
And t...

Read more …

🌷(9)

Also by Stuart Vanner:

Stopping the Cuts |

Stuart VannerPoemsHope

Breaking

Her sky was burning crashing down around her 

there  was fire in the sky  it burned so brightly she could 

not see that her whole entire world was gone she lost her

breath laying on the ground tears began to fall down her face 

washing some of the darkness away those tears fell and fell

until the fire was out  and she found her breath with her last bit of strength 

she stood up l...

Read and leave comments (1)

🌷(9)

painlossstrengthhope

Greet Each New Day

Who can say one way is better than another?

Who, then, is the arbiter of good and bad, better and worse?

Some live in bushes

Some live in mansions

Some create messes

Some clean them up

Some are gentle 

Some are fierce

Some fall apart

Some build up

Who, then, is the judge and jury?

Beyond all judgments,

something else lives.

Beyond all choices,

something el...

Read and leave comments (1)

Also by Hélène:

Letting Go |

July 2025 Collage Poem: Dancing on the Edge

Timber merchants disturb psychiatrists

A cut above the rest on the brink

I’m tired of pills a voice not truly mine.

 

A SALESMAN APPROACHES HIS RETIREMENT

Jettisoned into play pouring from nylon skin

Just run away with the thoughts in my head

Traumatic frenzy incorporating fear.

 

Con-trails whisper piratical tales as

Mr Southern Comfort travels north

 

Go on l...

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July 2025Dancing on the EdgeCollage poemMr Southern ComfortStockport Write Out Loud

The Pact

I feel the wind seep onto my cheeks, I can't understand what it is telling me

I feel it's brash abrazen currents, as they unmask my myriad of sin.

 

It all came too suddenly, now like an exfoliated cliff edge or the dagger of a sword,

I am sharper than ever, they believe I am here to fill their void

They avoid taking responsibility, their naivety is killing and twisted, I laugh in j...

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Also by Bluebell:

(untitled) | The Nymph |

Restlessness

Time ticking

Late nights thinking

About the time passing

And the time that is gone

Hours and hours thinking

Remembering and wishing

For a different ending

 

Every minute is torture 

Without you

Ever since I don't hear your voice

My life lost meaning

It lost its compass

I wonder aimlessly

Years go by 

And I don't feel progress

Just a sense 

That th...

Read and leave comments (0)

🌷(7)

NO GRAFFITI NEFERTITI(A TALE OF THE SMALLEST ROOM)

Christopher Robin went down with Alice

to view the loo at Blenheim Palace

a stunning work of art to behold

remarkably it was made of gold.

 

They came upon a disorderly scene

holes in the wall where the pipes had been

how could anyone be so callous

to steal a loo from Blenheim Palace?

 

Christopher thought a lock would suffice

while contemplating paradise

but Al...

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Also by ray pool:

PRESSING MATTERS |

A Prize Miscast: A Warning to Oslo

This poem is meant to be a stark warning to the Nobel Committee: awarding Donald Trump the Peace Prize would not only mock the values it stands for, but stain its legacy with hypocrisy, division, and deception.

Oh Nobel minds, in hallowed seat,
Let not your purpose taste defeat.
The world looks on with wary eyes—
Will justice bend or truth arise?

They whisper Trump deserves the crow...

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🌷(9)

Also by Rolph David:

The Boy from Taktser ལྷ་མོ་དོན་གྲུབ་ |

TrumpNobel Peace Prizepolitical poetryhuman rightsinternational politicsprotestwarningjusticeanti-TrumpOslodemocracy

A memoir

I wrote a note in my head,
Folded it inside my ribcage.
It said, “I can’t keep fighting
With a heart that always breaks.”

Mom never stayed,
Dad was just a silhouette.
And I swore I’d never
Repeat all that shit

But I guess I did.

We screamed in courtrooms
Over a child I never got to see grow.
I traced his name in the frost
On my rearview window.

I lost him before
I got the cha...

Read and leave comments (2)

🌷(7)

FatherhoodFather’s Daysonchildlosslovedepression

Compost

Write out of the ruins
Plants don't grow out of dirt alone
Death and decay occupy the soil
That which previously flourished 
Now exists for the sake of
What needs to be nourished 
Don't think that the ideas must blossom 
Just know that they can 
It need not be pretty
The soil need not be clean
Life grows out of whatever 
Write something down 
Careful cultivation is not required 
Just ...

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Reflect

To change a piece of me,

Is to kill the peace within,

The silence of demons

I speak not of,

And the smiles i show off most.

The tainted obidient mask,

I and 'they' hold highly of.

The forever yes and rarely no,

The answer to unrequited efforts,

Unrequested needs left out.

Barely, do they get to say,

Whats deeply felt, just to stay servient.

To let my chains brea...

Read and leave comments (0)

🌷(8)

Also by JustKelvinMasilela:

Untitled |

Mask

Weekly WalkaboutsVerse, E.G., Poem 61 of 230:  WORSLEY VILLAGE

Poem 61 of 230:  WORSLEY VILLAGE

 

Where earliest of coal-canals meet,

    And have their waters ochred

By the seepage of old-deep-mine earth;

    Where mock-Tudor is a treat,

And classic boats are newly coated

    At dry-docks, before rebirth;

 

Where miners made tough risky efforts,

    Working seams for hours non-stop -

Cramped, often without the room to stand;

...

Read and leave comments (1)

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Show more entries …

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