Poetry Blogs (Apr 2010)
We started at seven with everything fine
The Old People’s dance would be over by nine
We were lovely and cuddly, wise and benign
It was Christmas and things were so festive
No reason for it to get restive.
But the signs were all there when they brought out the tea
(You all get your cuppa and biscuit for free)
But the shit hit the fan when old Mrs McGee
Friday 30th April 2010 10:03 pm
Also by John Coopey:I Looked a Twat | John the Hat | You Spurs! | Goatsucker - Villanelle to Hell's Angel | A Trip to the Dentist | Manchester United 1 Chelsea 2 |
it’s where old soapstars
go to die
after their fifteen minutes,
whose only perceptible talent
is alighting from a taxi
the paparazzi-friendly grace
the autumnal glossy leaves of
OK, Hello & their ilk
- their natural habitat -
& are swept up
at the dentist’s & doctor’s
bearing wizened orange faces baring
Friday 30th April 2010 6:05 pm
Also by Banksy:Ant & Deck | Edward | the office party | amongst equals | for now | cherubim & seraphim | both of you | game on - new love | in the garden of Allah | Big cock, Little cock | would you ? | with hindsight | dreams | The Queen of Sheba | a spanner in the works |
Friday 30th April 2010 4:26 pm
I could reminisce about the sibilance in your uncertain sounds
the fricatives of your ‘fucks’, the vowels in your moans.
Could dot-to-dot the consonants that construct your
harsh-angry-hate and make of them a petal, bloomed.
Could take the condemnations, the indignations
and dissolve them into sheer potential o...
Friday 30th April 2010 10:11 am
Also by Max Wallis:Chapbook | Our Duet | 23:21 | For As I Draw You | For Me | For Hope | For An Emptying Smile | For This | For When the Wind Sighs + Audio | For Fortune | For You | For Under a Vowel Sounded Sky (And a Poetry Collection) | Hooray! | For Time’s a Thrifty Whore | For Ways To Not Fall In Love | For My Unloved | For the Notion of Emotion of Three in a Bed |
There are not enough moments in the day,
Nor is there time to cradle every possibility
During still and twilight hours.
I dream the luxury of life
Without a quarrel,
And looking at and through
The world again in fresh revealing
Eyes - excites
Friday 30th April 2010 12:49 am
Also by Noetic-fret!:Clair |
It snuck up on me.
Hemming my shadow.
a devil on my shoulder,
Demented and Tormented
became my friends
and together we ricochet.
Thursday 29th April 2010 11:44 pm
I haven’t seen her in a month of sundays,
Her fragrance always left me wanting more,
Upstairs by the window, adored,
The second sunday of the month.
I was sure she was an act of god,
The bad type, uncontrollable,
When she left, I was inconsolable,
The last Sunday of the month.
I sat by the same window,
Dreaming of her company,
Hungering for her love...
Thursday 29th April 2010 9:59 pm
Also by Joseph Kennedy:Ambient | Facade of broken smiles | Fox |
I'm aching to feel the heel of my hand
held hard up against the bend in your spine,
pushing your pivotal skeletal strand
til your groin meets the vibrant heat of mine.
My insistent hips claim ownership,
my firm palm presses your sensitive nape
coaxes an involuntary gasp from your lips,
moulding your chest to my breasts gentle shape
Each finger engulfed in that s...
Thursday 29th April 2010 7:59 pm
Also by Alison Smiles:Moral High Ground | Anniversary | Failure | Yo Mum | Hope | Friends | That is the shed |
Beneath the swagger portrait
she stands, legs wide, arms angled,
hand - raised to harp or dance,
to be plighted, an enchanting gift,
their pallor and their dainty size
a toy for kings to stroke
with their rough fists,
and marvel at, returning
from campaign, or from the lists -
turned in, and resting on the skirts
which flare from where her hips mus...
Thursday 29th April 2010 7:47 pm
Once it was a time that glowed:
turned-up collar, hurrying through glistening, early 60s streets.
A kind of muddling, room at Odsal Top,
or summat like that;
steam train always whistling in the distance
Dashing for the bus; overcoats,
shopping bags, windows steamed up,
Running the last yards from the corner,
hammering at the ...
Thursday 29th April 2010 7:32 pm
I always felt so sorry for the hound
the piteous beast, alone and chained
up on the tor,
his lips and eyes lined all around.
The pain he felt was never mentioned in the book.
I never cared for young Sir Henry and his fate
when that dumb creature
with his heart so great
was imprisoned there in ruins ancient.
Distorted, tortured to i...
Thursday 29th April 2010 3:18 pm
Also by Ann Foxglove:behind a dark moon | marshmallow | dance round the kitchen it's SUNDAY!!! | blackthorn | the joke | welcome | Venusienne | ROCK | mother nature's victory!! | dance round the kitchen - it's sunday (part 2) | doxy | for my gem | pinny | patina | insurance | missing person | cavemen | doe/doh! | widow | lemon pips | a poet's death |
Gillian – no relation –
The nation was Browned off
Until homely-you homed in.
You sent him reeling -
Now we know the real Gordon.
His line was unacceptable.
The Gaffer seems accident prone,
Flat on his face again,
Eating grumble pie
And media source.
Though momentarily thrown,
He still aspires to one.
Notes: This purporte...
Thursday 29th April 2010 10:42 am
Also by Barrie Singleton:SCOTCH |
Your smoke drifting upwards now intertwines,
Stench of your actions sits waiting to be found.
You never knew the pleasure from this sin,
In dirt and in danger, in feelings unbound.
The strength of the moment frozen in time,
One look or a glance the sky crashes down.
The witnesses squirm at the site of this scene,
One hundred thousand now feel like a crowd.
Thursday 29th April 2010 10:04 am
An old poem:
And as today dawns
another judgment upon us,
we await our unsung heroes
to rise up once again.
The evil is stronger,
and our time grows dark
while we wait days
till the hour strikes twice.
The evil must fall
not in the giants
but in us first,
or humanity is lost.
The story can ...
Thursday 29th April 2010 12:51 am
Apples, toffee, crab
mouths all a- gobbing
Scrawny scouts and guides
bob a jobbing or robbing?
Brown Owl hob-knobbing
Owl and pussycat
bobbing in a pea green boat
sticky five pound note
Bald heads in damp beds
bobbing, knobbing, throbbing, on the jobbing to the groove
mirrors on the move
Wet chests in whi...
Wednesday 28th April 2010 3:32 pm
In the arcades and the alleyways
the fugitive take furtive drags;
what was the craze is now a malaise
and red crosses upon the white flags
bespeak a nationwide neurosis,
a corrosive obsession with health
in thrall to the No Smoking notice:
not at all at ease with itself.
They reel 'em in with Ritalin,
Big Pharma pockets the profit.
The Viagra and th...
Wednesday 28th April 2010 7:59 am
held her self still.
recalling her face yet-
that with my mouth
I forced the enquiry,
and argued the pressing
to her lips.
Like those wants
of wishes sated,
we had with marbled hurt
turned one back
against the other.
that was forever
-like the past-
both of us
Wednesday 28th April 2010 1:25 am
Also by Tommy Carroll:My fear precedes me |
Credit for the 'difference between sanity and madness' line goes to Alan Moore, I just borrowed it:
A burning sky lights the cry,
as the world looks on.
They see the pain, the maddened stare;
they walk on and do not care.
I scream for them as much as me,
I scream for them because they can’t see,
that ‘the difference between sanity,
Tuesday 27th April 2010 10:29 pm
Also by Steven Kenny:The Marionette | The Dancer | Springtime | Daydream | Broken Glass | Dysphoria |
The warm eye of waking day
has drifted off
now the roads are rivers
not with rain
but with the tears
crying in that wedding dress
tearing your hair out
The swell of cliche
aches in my teeth
the sea froze over
not with winter
but with the pain
of pulling off that ring
screaming your lungs out
You wore that dress for nineteen hours
you wore it too long
you wore it ...
Tuesday 27th April 2010 8:45 pm
Also by Tom:Hunger Hill Farm | No Secret Place |
Dust motes flare bright as falling stars above his sacred work,
his skillful strokes slash at the demons skin,
interlocking prayers his only protection
from the nightmare trapped by walls of cinnabar and ultramarine.
It coils, threatening to leap into the eyes of any who gaze into its charred-bone face
bleeding into the minds fibres, it's most cunning trick.
Its likeness, flayed as ...
Tuesday 27th April 2010 8:11 pm
She tips her age into his yawning hands, tracing the mother tide.
Her eyes are bites, and with her smile, her smash of glass in a feral air,
she leaps forward:
“Name me in your heart.”
His shoulders sigh, fanning twilight thin, and stretch in the arch
of a velvet coat, and with a voice of milk and ice, he complies;
“You leap into me like a g...
Tuesday 27th April 2010 12:10 pm
Also by Marianne Daniels:Blowback | M.E.E Coming | Picking up a broken mirror... | In the shadow of silence. |
I have seen many things through my eyes.
I see magic, mystical places, angels and fighter planes.
I see the magic of a summers day high in the mountains.
I see surreal dreamers flying through the rarefied air.I see Gothic maidens dressed in long black dresses
dancing under the moon.
I see a Spitfire turning on a knife-edge,
sun reflecting o...
Tuesday 27th April 2010 12:11 am
Also by NICK ARMBRISTER:2 warplane poems i wrote in the pub before my open mic for free beer | a bike poem | i grew up in the cold war... | OVER THE OCEAN | dark vicious poems... | a poem | High poem | what could have been... |
Words fail me
Sentences derail me
Thoughts ought to set me free
But they drag me down with new responsibilities
Catch 22s have got me in a fix
Why do people have to be such dicks
Adulthood a myth
Just children in suits and ties
Surrounding themselves with lies
And they like to blame each other
Who’s gonna get the job done
New world order
Monday 26th April 2010 3:17 pm
Also by Daniel Hooks:hiroshima | my superstitions are eating me whole |
The sunflower wished to share his seeds with everyone
As he lovingly tracked the sun
But they kept him in a cardboard box
And the fire inside him never shone
This tragedy brings tears to the free
For they know what he misses
And what the perpetrator has done
And how petals unfolded bring beauty
But this heartfelt core is shunned
What an offering for the world
Monday 26th April 2010 10:36 am
often battered, bombed or broken -
Hard to build, easy to destroy,
Years in the growing, rubble
in the time it takes
for an eye to widen.
An unforseen weakness,
a thoughtless moment,
an attack, neglect,
or simply being asked to carry
too much weight.
Wilder knew it was futile
Monday 26th April 2010 9:23 am
Also by Dave Bradley:Write Out Loud Outstanding Poem For March | Family weekend |
A man on a bike
Gargoyles in the sun
The smell of warm rain
And bones of a killer
Faltered to drop
A cigarette butt
The beauty made guilt
Monday 26th April 2010 7:35 am
Sweeping municipal buildings
loom inward with principled overhang.
Swooping seagulls launch lazy graceless
glaze on parkland treetops.
Sweaty armpits seep from runners-
panting painful spittle.
Sweets in tiny mouths, sticky toffee fillings-
swapping dripping lollies for fizzled nectar bottled toothache.
Swooning mothers, strained and flustered-
Monday 26th April 2010 12:45 am
Sunday 25th April 2010 11:14 pm
Also by Tom Harding:To A Teacher |
A Working-Class Family Go Out Shopping With Very Little Money, In The Hope That It'll Last 'Till The End Of The Week.
Put four pounds of petrol in the second-hand car
that was given to us by your sister,
it's all we can afford.
It should be enough to get us there and back,
maybe enough to see your mum in the week.
We'll just have to see how things go.
Drive past M&S
along Cryws Road,
and past all those shops that you like;
Waitrose - you're having a laugh!
Tesco - we wan...
Sunday 25th April 2010 8:01 pm
Yvette marks my neck
Martine kisses my pearl blush
I rub it better
Sunday 25th April 2010 7:23 pm
Also by Augusta Darling:Indigo Gown | In A House Called 'Heaven' | On Such A Night |
Got the news today,
Was only asking if all was ok,
Were your little family still happy,
I know its not been easy,
Two people, on drugs, trying to fight the evil hold,
Two people who I befriended
Two people who then became Three,
Oh happy times, with help,
Laughter, battles fought, with help,
New home, new life, determination, with help,
Child grows, first...
Sunday 25th April 2010 11:27 am
He would certainly be admitted.
Who would believe
In the return of a prophet?
A dream realised
Is a failure in itself.
It belongs to the mind only.
To arrive in utopia
And find it is raining,
Earn the love
Of a perfect woman
Only to notice
She is a ghost.
This is proof
Dreams are for the mind only.
And as for the return
Saturday 24th April 2010 12:52 pm
Also by Kealan Coady:The Dawn Consequence | The Great Refrain. | I Wanted to be a War Photographer. | Becoming Real |
It's oh so nice in Para dice
Where your numbers are bound to show
Take my word and we'll take you there
Hurry up now - it's your time to go
Such are the empty promises,
We hear them all the time
Deceitful forms of marketing
Should they not have been made a crime
Some form of holiday making
A prize you won out of the blue
Special deals you just cant pass up
Saturday 24th April 2010 9:55 am
Also by Dave Dunn:Stave Off | Island Nations | And If... | Too Many | What's In Store | Spring Eternal |
International PEN - Free the Word Festival
Experiences of Volunteering by Alain English
Wednesday 14th April 7:45 pm Purcell Room, Queen Elizabeth Hall - Opening Event The Ex-Empire Strikes Back with James Kelman, Olive Senior and Margaret Busby. Chaired by Profile Writer Maya Jaggi.
Some weeks before this event, I registered to volunteer with the Free the Word Festival with Inter...
Saturday 24th April 2010 12:03 am
Also by Alain English:Autistic Superstars | Future Gigs | Children of Annie - a tribute to Annie Inglis 1922 -2010 |
To comfort me in times of trouble, to have and told
to lovingly clasp, like hasp and staple
if only I was still able to grasp and cling to the wrists
of the family that deserted me years before
for the same lost cause - I forget I'm not a little girl anymore.
Yet it makes no difference, I wasn't even legal before I succumbed to this evil -
for Heaven's sake, it...
Friday 23rd April 2010 9:04 pm
Also by S.J.:Look Beyond (2) | Look Beyond (1) |
Theres a guy the opposit of ambitious
Adverse to pinstripes,order, folders
and all things typed
Hates the words modules, schedules and meetings
Loathes all food with meat in
Has no time for time
sees the grouchy nature of clocks
and the bilingual nature of colour.
Rejoices in the serenity of empty
and the shape of plans unmade
Friday 23rd April 2010 7:07 pm
There’s a paediatrician in the corner
Staring over at me
There are Islams in the bushes
Planting bombs with the hedges
There are asbos in my loft
Raving on the rafters
There are single mums in the kitchen
Moving up the council house waiting list
There are immigrants in my front room
Taking all my jobs
There’s no climate change on my roof
We threw the...
Friday 23rd April 2010 12:00 pm
I have sailed the seven seas and survived to tell the tale
I have felt the ocean breeze as it whistles through the sail
We have searched for buried treasure, these buccaneers and me
Yet we do not fear the gibbet, for dooty is dooty...
In the quayside tavern waiting to depart
Men of blackened teeth and blackened heart
Gentlemen of Fortune are we
Tellin' tales of...
Friday 23rd April 2010 12:22 am
despair creeps in
a semblance of half life
struggling for years
trying to put up with the strife
all thats come of it are shed tears
Thursday 22nd April 2010 6:14 pm
Also by Liam Jones:(untitled) | (untitled) | (untitled) |
for six days
the sky breathed
washed with dimpled sunshine
dappled clouds of long ago
whimsy on lazy wind
content to be weather vanes
score the atmosphere with carbon plumes
skewed by schedules
heavy metal ...
Thursday 22nd April 2010 2:53 pm
Also by Cynthia Buell Thomas:Old Woman Waiting for a Bus II | Old Woman Waiting for a Bus | Coffee and Critics |
Take home,your false pity!
cry the pretentious tears not,
over this gentle Soul,freed from pain.
just one sincere thought of him,would have been sufficient.
but your thoughts fly in selfish elsewhere,s.
Flowers at least have their natural truths.
bright with joy for his life,wilting sorrowfully to loss.
leave them,to join with the eternal sleeper,
Wednesday 21st April 2010 10:35 pm
Note: Around 1980 a group of streets in Manchester were being pulled down. They were named after the days of the week, the occupants rehoused in modern high rises. These were not successful and have been superceded much more successfully by town houses. This poem is written about their demolition.
Goodbye To Thursday Street.
Under the bulldozer the terraced streets rushed,
Wednesday 21st April 2010 9:30 pm
Also by jane wilcock:I Am The Very Model Of A Modern Parliamentarian |
Love of my life
I have had just about enough
Of your corduroyed flatulence
Perhaps it was the Eggs Benedict
The Guinness fried fish kedgeree
I suspect it just may have been
That together with the Scampi Brochette con Aglio
Not to mention
A breakfast glass of Sauternes
Will you never learn?
Wednesday 21st April 2010 8:12 pm
Also by Gus Jonsson:She is just a Gypsy Girl | Jack Came Dancing ( Re - Post Oct 2008) |
Okay, so I thought "I'll start a blog! I'll be hip to the Google and finally cool. People will comment and I will be a Goddess!" I created a page, did one entry and then I forgot the URL, didn't bookmark it and couldn't be bothered to blog anyway. That was about six months ago.
In the spirit of...something, I've decided to try again. This is more suited to me, I think, because I get to pr...
Wednesday 21st April 2010 5:12 pm
Wednesday 21st April 2010 8:06 am
Also by mr stephen:Cling Film |
Wednesday 21st April 2010 12:10 am
Also by Lisa Milligan:Sugar, Spice and Everything Nice | Cassie | Die Sonne (The Sun) | Waves Crash | My Father's Arm | Forget |
‘Hey what are you doing?
Look out your window it’s snowing
(Do you know I love you?)
Amazing white faeries are floating down’
‘Oh yes it’s beautiful,
And thanks, I went outside to see,
(Yes I know you love me,)
Thanks for the text
(I know, so sad I don’t love you in return)
My tears are silently falling
Drifts of losing you pile upon my heart
Monday 19th April 2010 8:18 pm
Also by Shoeless Carole:swim |
Sink into the bible’s words
Tales on a page as old as the wind
Crash into the rocks of knowing
Hear the alarm call of birds
Taste aniseed and coal
Dream of big bangs, atoms evolving
Greet the stranger, take his hand
Feel your body begin to rust
Look for the warning signs of death
Let your feet sink into the sand
Monday 19th April 2010 2:50 pm
Apologies Francine for my dreadful French but I have a little announcement:
This afternoon at 3pm I will be plugging Wordsoup and it's 1st birthday party (tuesday 20th at the Continental) as I have a poem to be published in it's upcoming anthology, I will hopefully (amid my inane chattering and nervous giggling and dreadful faux-pas) get the chance to read a poem too..
If you want to ...
Monday 19th April 2010 9:51 am
Also by Rachel McGladdery:Lucy |