To the only begetter of this ensuing sonnet Mr P LARKIN All happiness and that eternity promised by our ever-living poet wisheth the well-wishing adventurer in setting forth

They fuck you up, your Fathers and your Mums:
Their Birthright, Dowry, Heritage, and Lot
Of Faults, with further added to their Sums,
Pass down from what they had to what they've got;
These Faults, again, they gained fr...

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Needy?

I didn't think I was needy

Craved companionship

But maybe I was wrong

I was outside

Having a crafty fag

In the wind and rain

And looked over the road

At the cat on the windowsill

In the warm

And I gave him a wave.

Hope no-one was looking

that would be weird

But perhaps I am needy

and need companionship.

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Why?

I am a professor of profanity
A doctor of banality
No master of subtlety
Which is such a tragedy
Despite the incongruity
I am not the Lord Almighty
Most agree with this, very happily
But I am sad about that actually
Agreed, I am too sleazy
Make most people feel queasy
But when it comes to poetry
I find it just comes naturally
To me, at least, it comes easily
Especially when ev...

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That August day

made me pray

for MERCY!

My head was pounding 

like a woodpecker on

a metal roof

Could hardly see

my eyes were strabismic

I reached...

in my disarranged

medicene cabinet

in my dim

bathroom

pulled out the first

pill box

my quavering hands touched

I squinted my confused eyes

to examine the fine print

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I am feeling blue

today

Because I didn't get my

way

---

Turned purple

with rage

When I tried to engage

a conversation

With a yellow 

coward

That said I was not

in the pink

---

I told him I was going

to cause a "brown out"

In his town

So they would have a black day

If he did not say

He was wrong...

By Lynn Hahn

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Ghosts to
my left,
Ghosts to
my right.

Ghosts in front,
oh what
a fright.

Ghosts all around,
How did I
get in this
Ghostly town?

I look at
my hand,
What is this
what do
I see?

Oh My
I can
see right
through me.

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Gossamer-silk strands wove into artwork, 
Hung on bramble, glistening with morning dew, 
Frail as a whisper, destroyed by one rainfall 
And the artist must start his creation anew.

But don't be fooled by its delicacy! 
The web holds a license to kill 
Its grip of death with embrace you 
And its Monster, concealed, lurks in shadows, so still. 

So when dancing, nonchalant, through the ai...

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A really good sandwich,

Has two pieces of bread,

(we all know the club is compensating)

Is void of mayonnaise,

But has in its stead,

(Mayonnaise is for the self-deprecating)

A nice bit of mustard,

And a sharp slice of Ched…dar.

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I have the

right to write.

You may not

like what I

have to say.

I have the

right to write,

I'll do

it anyway.

I have the

right to write.

With this you

may not agree.

I have the

right to write.

You know where

you can kiss me!

This was written a few

...

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Mime Rhyme

Mime rhyme

In time

Dance

Up down

Around

Breeze

Some fun

In sun

Isabella

A cute

Patoot

House

A mouse

In house

Home

A cat

Big rat

Canada

A moose

Is loose

Happy

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Aissur Teivos ni,

even the punchline is backwards.

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Deep down

inside,

I have

no pride.

Deep down

inside,

I've taken

the slide.

Deep down

inside,

my soul

the demons

 have fried.

Deep down

inside.

Shirley Smothers

I wrote this poem a few years ago. I wrote it to be bad on purpose.

Someone rec...

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The world is filled with frenzied folk who say I'm incomplete
until I've played some game, or tried their favourite thing to eat,
or read a certain book, or heard some orchestra or band,
or spent a decade living rough in such-and-such a land...
but (most of all experiences) the one that draws my praise
is walking round with nothing on, on hot and sticky days.

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(after A. A. Milne, "I often wish I were a King")

I'm often lost in ruminations
On what I'd do if stuck at stations.

If I were stuck at HARRINGAY,
I'd pitch a tent and ask to stay.

If I were stuck at STEVENAGE,
I'd build a campfire, on the bridge.

If I were stuck at FINSBURY PARK,
I'd dance around it, in the dark.

If I were stuck at MORROWGATE, (*)
I'd phone a...

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The Goblins of

the night,

they give me

such a fright.

They leave about

this green slime.

I awaken, oh

it was just

a dream.

No need for

a scream.

I look at

the clock for

the time, but

it is covered

in green slime!

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The following  is a

very silly poem

There was a girl named Shirley

whose hair was short and curly.

She never wanted to go anywhere

she hated her short curly hair.

Her mom would say, "Let's

go to the park."

Shirley would say

"Not until after dark."

There came a man

with a silly son...

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