Poetry Blogs (paradox)
J.D. Bardo on A heart warming act of kindness by Sally Anne an N.H.S Nurse (4 minutes ago)
Nicola Beckett on Matriarch (1 hour ago)
Nicola Beckett on Silence (1 hour ago)
And the unexpected
The lady in black
Put on pink clothes
Decency that lack
Simply to attack
Kept in the dark
Soon after funeral
Hell knows no fury.
Saturday 22nd August 2020 6:33 am
They kill a man
Who could die for them
And die for he
Who could kill them! ///
(A remark by a woman about women )
Monday 17th August 2020 7:50 pm
You are inside me but you are not really in.
I am clenching around you but I am not really close.
Such a paradox.
Saturday 18th January 2020 2:33 am
It is an anti-climactical relapse into the repression and suppression of life.
You'll be on a cloud of positivity held in the captivity of optimism.
And then as if your minds been hit by a tun of bricks that indicate the euphemism of the candidness of reality.
As you get older you realise that the higher you climb the further it is to fall,
so you get indecisive between the f...
Monday 28th November 2016 8:04 am
Trust is an illusion. A systematically flawed word. A total forgery of a statement. Trust assumes infallibility - without errors, mistakes or fuck ups. How do we trust others when we can't even trust ourselves .. If the potential gain outweighs the potential risk we're likely to oblige. Whether the repercussions be momentary or long standing, we're going to indulge in whatever we feel is beneficia...
Tuesday 11th October 2016 8:40 pm
It is an anti-climactical relapse into the repression and suppression of life. You'll be on a cloud of positivity held in the captivity of optimism. And then as if your minds been hit by a tun of bricks that indicate the euphemism of the candidness of reality. As you get older you realise that the higher you climb the further it is to fall, so you get indecisive between the fear of failure and the...
Sunday 17th April 2016 4:27 pm
Consider all the unconceived, they neither toil nor spin
Till called upon by selfish act of grossly unoriginal sin.
You read those lines and smile, perhaps, at whimsy’s gentle play
But Human Rights’ first law should be: ALL life may life gainsay.
By inference those who have reached cognized fertility
Should bow before the unconceived – the being yet to be.
Wednesday 23rd October 2013 1:54 pm
The curtains a cocoon
which I have outgrown
though I dare not venture out
my wings maimed
by an internal eternity.
Some days they open
as the sunlight shines
and snow falls
yet it remains a parallel world
a door to an unfamiliar universe
Even inside plates pile up
like a porcelain possum
Monday 21st January 2013 1:36 pm
On a bit of a writing spree at the moment...
Usually not a good sign...
Maybe quiet times,
Holding tight, a lost
Limb in paradox.
Floating, timid touching
And left over bone
All quivers, left
To the elements
We talk about
Ourselves in the
Thursday 21st July 2011 1:31 am