Poetry Blogs (Jan 2011)
Monday 31st January 2011 11:54 pm
Also by Tom Harding:Rites Of Spring |
I am the cold
You hide from in you bed
I am the words we said
The path we tread
I gleam with a discontent
it shuns the sun
To that cold dark place
Where this hell
had all begun
I am the cold,
The chill, You dread
That comes with thought
Upon the nights we spent
The pain w...
Monday 31st January 2011 11:02 pm
Also by Ridge A. Dillard:No Sound | The Heart Wants | Destruction poem #2 | Symbol | ??? | No Way of Knowing |
The foundations on which we built Empire
Are scarcely a secret to share
The offensive force of musketry fire
The defensive strength of the square.
The advantages of the musketry line
Are best learned mathematically
And not from one hundred metres in front
As Frenchie would no doubt agree.
The French they attack you in column
Of maybe 10,000 or mor...
Monday 31st January 2011 10:11 pm
Also by John Coopey:Dead Men's Shoes | Cradle - A Triolet | Breakfast of Champions | Wrong Road Roun' - An Urban Villanelle | Night Mail | Doing It Twice | Charente-Maritime | Senior | It's Not 5-0 is it Now, Merv? | Haircut | Ah Yes, I Remember it Well |
you are all shapes
of thoughts I have
like differences in boxes.
one would have to be huge
for it to contain 'all you are to me'
another filled with'needing you'
wrapped in truth.
a heart shaped one
its contents obvious.
the most important of all
made of solid gold
Monday 31st January 2011 10:05 pm
its good to see the dazzling
sun again its rays bring out
the different shades of green
and as it dips towards the
skyline now corals the
remnants of the afternoon
the frost is in abeyance
although vapour trails betray
direction of departing crews
flying in the zones of the
citrine air and eggshell blue
and ground wise by the lake
Monday 31st January 2011 8:58 pm
Also by Philipos:Enterprising Ants. | Love Thy Clergy. | Crows. | Bush Baby. | Bottom Rung. | Fortune’s Smile. | Precipitation. | Cans. | Duo. | Sound Warps. | Trilogy. | Mirrors. | Alarm. | Canal-Side by Cheese Light. | Redundant Churches. | The Tumbler. | Freshfield Sands. | Mid January Sunday. | Wind-Blown Tree. | Through the Looking-Glass. | Below the Belt. | Muntjak. | Leaving of Liverpool. | Airport Encounter. | 3am Poem. | Unblessed. | Sargasso Remembered. | Faces of Faith. | One Paw In The Grave. | Briefly. | Inheritance. | Pax Romana. | The Haunting. | The Hard Seat. | Transgression. | Drag Artist - Revisited. | Downed Tools. | Passing Through. | Obit. | One Word Poem. |
So I'll tell you something that happened. It was a couple of years ago and it was early in the morning. I woke up quickly in a sweat. I was dreaming about PILLOWS. Rows and rows of PILLOWS. All lined up in a park at night. There was somebody else there but I can't recall who they were or if they were friendly or not. So the PILLOWS looked at me with tiny cotton eyes and enough eyebrow material ...
Monday 31st January 2011 6:39 pm
Also by Kealan Coady:If I Wanted | Out At Sea | Reward | The Not Yet Chained. |
I was redundant
And things were grim.
I had little choice but to accept
The harshness of it all
And start again.
My first lesson was money:
I looked at it differently now,
I respected it.
When I think back
I’d been a fool,
But things were good then.
I walked everywhere.
I had a decent motor,
But to fi...
Monday 31st January 2011 6:39 pm
Also by mike watts:Birds like that | Dinosaurs and poetry wars | Cider Barry | The last time | Unlucky numbers | Stubborn stain | I confess |
I am not designed for life
not fit for it
I’m merely not strong enough
a weak, hopeless
And this dark mood
this deathly visitor
is inside me now
all the way deep
gripping my skull
cutting my thoughts
making it hard enough
just trying to breathe
So I lay here
as lost as stone
a thing neither dead nor alive...
Monday 31st January 2011 5:16 pm
Also by David Mac:The night comes |
The day of grief and sorrow was yesterday.
Another friend of ours had passed away.
It’s impossible to express in words how our hearts pain,
But we all swear, the memory about him will remain.
He was reliable and life he loved so passionately,
Up to the end he was faithful and friendly.
He was his family support and our coach
Without fear, without reproach.
Monday 31st January 2011 4:42 pm
Also by Larisa Rzhepishevska:Rose lies on the piano keys..... | RZHEPICKS | You Could Call Me | Rzhepick | RZHEPICKS | RZHEPICKS | RZHEPICKS | The Epiphany | RZHEPICKS | RZHEPICKS | RZHEPICKS | RZHEPICKS | Rzhepick | EYES | RZHEPICKS | RZHEPICKS | Your Love |
The church is empty
A lighted cross on the wall
Sins and confessions pr-empted
By God’s loving call
The sermon is preached
Delivered in a beloved tone
Enlightenment and stability reached
The House of God is our home
Gathering together to reverently sing
Organ recitals flowing through the heart
None of us are underlings
Hardship and hate wi...
Monday 31st January 2011 4:01 pm
Also by Jules Clare:A New Day | The Gigs of Jules - Salvation | My Flower of Hope | Sausages | Niall's Lament | DINNER TIME | BURNT HOUSES | The Lunatics have Taken Over The Asylum | Jules Latest radio Gig | Cleansing | Freedom | Serenade Me | What A Terrible Mess | Uprising | Losing My Deposit | Hatching Moments | General Infection | Closing My Eyes | But | A Start | A Social Chat | A New Beginning | A Letter From Glen | Today | I Don't Believe | I Don't Care | Bus Stop | Looking Into Space | WOODY WOODPECKER | AND | Knowing Me, Knowing You | I Love It | Turtle Doves | Ten Green Bottles | Everything Has Changed | Jules Clare - The Underground Poet Returns |
The cyanide swan
Ugly duckling, beautiful swan
The gentle cover is now gone
And the evil side is the only one
Some would say she's a con
The mask is off
She's now tough
Some would say rough
Like she hasn't had any love
Maybe she couldn't stand the ridiculing anymore
And was fed up of life being a chore
Or the hatred that was emerging from her core
Was fighting t's way...
Sunday 30th January 2011 10:57 pm
To suck all life
and create death
So goes the
the banks feed
off of all humans
Abdominal pain Constipation Anemia Anorexia B-12 deficiency Rectal hemorrha...
Sunday 30th January 2011 8:03 pm
It Always Rains on Fiddlers Ferry (version 1)
Fiddlers Ferry powered the lights in our house.
It also kept the TV on and the tape recorder.
Later, it kept the discs in the Playstation spinning
and my iPod charged.
I remember being sat in my granddad’s van
in the passenger seat on a booster.
We used to drive out that way before nursery,
let the pidgins out before rac...
Sunday 30th January 2011 4:23 pm
Also by James Butler:Am I Dead? |
Sunday 30th January 2011 3:13 pm
She went to gather apple blooms all in the month of May,
An eager child who dearly loved a warm and sunny day -
an eager child who dearly loved
a warm and sunny day.
Quite unaware of noise and dust that thinly filled the air
She skipped along the gravel path without a thought or care -
Sunday 30th January 2011 2:40 pm
Also by Cynthia Buell Thomas:The moon weeps | Heat Wave | Would you care for tea? (for Elaine) |
You begged and begged
and now you're ever in their debt -
they'll stretch a net the size of the IMF
to dress your nakedness; then you're fucked
with a corrupt infrastructure.
Your coping mechanisms will fracture,
a cheap contractor will copy and paste
your face into a pastiche simulacrum;
the tic and spasm you call culture
will not feature in the sculpt...
Sunday 30th January 2011 2:06 pm
Along the pretty Pembrokeshire coast,
Under a sun that shone for ever,
We galloped over emerald cliffs.
Both holding imaginary reins,
Paula and I made spurring noises
To mounts that were supposed to be there.
Our families met while caravanning,
We decided to all tour together.
Big brothers enjoyed their own adventures.
A younger sister still napped after...
Sunday 30th January 2011 11:03 am
Also by Lynn Dye:I'm Sorry, I'm English |
I slaver with anticipation
as your taunts fly past
let me grapple you
while your fangs pierce
and vilest venom spreads
numb my soul and mind
let me scream and cringe
agonise upon this page
let blankness reign supreme
slay this potent pen
for all of eternity
make your emptiness pristine
hover around my carcass
you scavenging vulture
eat away my...
Saturday 29th January 2011 11:08 pm
When you look
into the eyes of
she smiles back at you,
but if you look
at her mouth
she is not smiling.
And so it is
with the little boy
in the corner,
- that if I look
at him directly,
but look to one side
& there he is again
like the eyes of the Mona Lisa,
follows me around the room.
Saturday 29th January 2011 10:25 pm
Also by Banksy:another time, another place | business as usual | whispers | My | Murder, she croaked | That's all Folks | Tribe | Meg Elizabeth - No Title | Strychnine or Cyanide ? | Aspirations | pussy in uniform Haiku | Elysium | Someone's Sweetheart | Black & White | Dear Sofa | Leaves on the line | You and I | almost there | under the stars | Liqueurs, Madam ? …. Ooh, Vicar ! |
You think poor is…
One car not two
semi, not detached
the right school
the wrong brand
the wrong label.
I think poor is…
thick enough to pick at
in shoes with holes
and stains that don’t
we know poor is…
the curl of a lip
in a hostile world,
of not fittin...
Saturday 29th January 2011 1:23 pm
Also by Isobel:La dee da dee da | Upon Disappearing | SPAM |
I always loved the elephant
The elephant in my room
We used to have such laughs and chats
I hope he comes back soon!
Each day was such a riot -
oh what would happen next!
but now it's gone all quiet
and I am really vexed.
For there has been spring cleaning
He had to go away
And now the house is boring
Cos he’s not here to play.
Saturday 29th January 2011 9:13 am
Also by Ann Foxglove:like paper | turtle haiku | books haiku | company | kiss haiku | ghazal - under grass | a little journey | sarah beaney | chocolate | dirty dog | I wonder | smoke and mirrors | ros/e | motherfuckinfox | A charm of goldfinches |
As regal as I get,
As vulnerable as I can be.
I push through tranquility
And into exhaustion.
Stuffed to bursting,
Eager to release.
I intrude onto the White
And deliver my sacrifice.
Friday 28th January 2011 11:15 pm
Also by Steven Kenny:Lullaby for Thermopylae |
Sometimes the biggest effort
can have little effect,
and you're left with
a constant reminder,
like a knife in the gut.
Sometimes the smallest effort
rewards the most,
an efficient deluge
almost brimming over,
Sometimes, you perch on the fence,
neither easy nor hard,
and the end result is
usually the same.
Sometimes, no matter how
hard you tr...
Friday 28th January 2011 10:43 pm
Also by Kath Hewitt:Left turn | My childhood rainbow | What would you do? | untitled again | Fancy adding to this??? | Never alone | (untitled) |
Lets play at
Let's sit around
The dinner table
this is delicious.
Would you like to
try my pasta?'
'Your pasta is
too hard for my
'Well why don't
you try shoveling it
up your hole then!?'
'Maybe I fucking will!!'
On an empty ...
Friday 28th January 2011 10:40 pm
Also by Rebel Birmingham:12 Apostrophies: pt1 |
I glance with head on pillow
As you respond to my recommendation
To ‘try dancing to release
The energy of your elation’
You’re on your knees cuz you can’t stand
You kneel and stick your arms out
Eyes roll back in your head
Mouth forms a poignant pout
You wiggle left and squiggle right
And shuffle over with all your might
I peer up at squid-like move...
Friday 28th January 2011 6:43 pm
In a stony cold house, many years ago now
Lived a family as happy as fate would allow.
Though leaking the roof, with cracked window pane
And open to elements like wind and the rain.
No bolt on the door, no lock and no chain.
Nothing to steal , no nor nothing to gain.
The children were happy. They ran wild and free.
I remember it well, for the eldest was me.
Friday 28th January 2011 6:11 pm
I recall the rain
Crying into my dreams
No charabanc for me
No trip to the sea
The gusting wind scattered my broken heart
All ways like grains of sand
My bucket and spade
Hand in hand upon my bedroom floor
Friday 28th January 2011 1:58 pm
Also by Gus Jonsson:Raged a Wind | Wave Over Wave (To the memory of a very good friend of mine that I never met) |
Do you ever wonder?
Elbow resting on the kitchen sink, and ponder,
About the true validity of love,
How who or he, up above
Can intertwine two lost souls
Or is it the sweet blossoms of life which confine two blind, forgotten souls.
Merged by this, deep connotations of our spiritual imagination
Or did I miss the angelic frustration or our initial attractio...
Friday 28th January 2011 12:13 pm
These are a couple of films I have recently seen on Peak Oil - check them out if you can.
The End of Suburbia (2004)
Directed by Gregory Greene
A chilling look at what seems to be the imminent demis of the American Dream, the movie examines the origins of modern suburbia and how that way of life, powered by cheap energy, is now threatened by the coming oil crash.
Thursday 27th January 2011 10:38 pm
Also by Alain English:The Sorry People | Gigs this Week! | January Featured Gigs | New Year and New Gigs! | Poetry of the Apocalypse |
The ideas of growing have turned old
forgetting stories once told
with characters who were once so bold
fiction left behind
We open our eyes to fact
loosing any sense of tact
our unwritten pact
ripped up in front of our eyes
We constantly disagree
questioning everything, never letting it be
replying with misjudged maybe's
Thursday 27th January 2011 5:13 pm
Also by Josh Coates:Some little pieces | Absent Friends |
Dusk in Northumberland
I cannot throw away this faulty photograph
wonder if mother peeled off that oval sticker,
the one I remember:
Boots pronouncement of defects
on red eyes, on the ghosts of double exposures,
Now half forgotten
Framed by the stone walls scaling hills
I didn’t know that my great grandfather built or
the skill that made them stan...
Wednesday 26th January 2011 6:18 pm
I woke in the middle of the night
Slurred with illness cold tickling
My throat; my nose red raw. I saw
your body eloquent as a choir
corpse-still your bones were breathing
singing, the chorus chant sighing through you
orchestra woman. My favourite part:
the string section, its high toned rend
tore my heart in two.
A broken up shadow your body
Wednesday 26th January 2011 3:40 pm
Ian Hayles started a discussion about the Sestina form. Thought I would give it a go...was a little bit of a headache because I just picked the six words at random - book, fooling, apple, mouth, chair and tower - before I had my idea but see what you think folks...
From the echo, declared the book:
“My fruits are never fooling,
dangling words, a tease o...
Wednesday 26th January 2011 2:56 pm
Also by Marianne Daniels:Neptune's Daughter | Untitled Bubble | I cannot write. | Colourless Green Ideas Sleep Furiously | Generation T(shirt) | Hikikomori | On Reading War |
How do you open a soul that’s already been closed?
How do you heal a heart that’s already been stolen?
Where do you go when you’re alone and the only light you see seems to go further and further away.
You just have to start to breathe again,
To wake each day ,
To smile again to open yourself to the world and just hold on to hope and let go of fear
just be just ...
Wednesday 26th January 2011 2:52 pm
The spring edition of Cerise Press will soon be avaialble on-line. It's free, and it's good. Well, I write for it, anyway. All you have to do is subscribe, which is easy - just google Cerise Press and follow the links.
Wednesday 26th January 2011 2:31 pm
From where did I get the notion
there's something wrong with emotion?
The human tribe runs on feelings,
and we starve if it's all just dealings.
So I reject staying remote,
I want to connect, want to emote.
Give myself permission to feel,
let myself love, be loved and be real.
A person is not just a book
to open and take a quick look.
Wednesday 26th January 2011 10:26 am
Also by Dave Bradley:Beyond the Garden #3 | Beyond the Garden #2 | Beyond the garden | When is the ground? | Filling time at grandparent's (Childhood) | Ruchill Park, Glasgow 10 a.m. 29th December 2010 | Respect |
Macarthur parked his bicycle between two tartan vans
On Burns night in the Trossachs, 'twas the gathering of the clans
An evening of poetry, of rhymes and songs and ditties
While serving wenches strolled around with big plates of Mcvities
Someone read a poem about a scottish cat Mcavity
But mostly it was bawdy stuff of lewdness and depravity
Tuesday 25th January 2011 9:48 pm
The year begins, as the streets are chaotic past dusk
Looking back, our breath rides against our footsteps
In the fallen snow, gleaming in the street lights' glow
As a dozen shadows fall from view
And, to the day, the bottles burst
Into glasses that are raised
To the endless world of feigned resolutions
But only the year will be maintained
Until it itself is out...
Monday 24th January 2011 3:54 pm
Also by Joshua Van-Cook:Bigotry | The Useful |
Strange to think small dreams morph,
spark dotted pathways on and on.
Still blemished weights of coherence
lie, carve to memory those that last.
Shed for absurdity and more,
the tears I cry know no line
or minutes fair, deliberate time.
The best of thoughts live in the past.
Witnesses can tut and tsssk,
queue to sign my page for free.
Sunday 23rd January 2011 10:50 pm
Burning daylight to save her soul from pain;
the sputtering candle,
whose brief outing casts light in vain.
This strutting player now no longer sees
the need for havoc wreaked
to wreath in Dunsinane trees
the gloomy portents she chooses to ignore;
no direst cruelty needs
to walk through that forseen door,
no crone's prophecy blee...
Sunday 23rd January 2011 6:25 pm
Also by Petrova C Fairhurst:Writer's Block | Borderland | Empty | Second Skin | Rewind | Regret | Edinburgh |
When we look up to the black sky at night
We see the stars and planets back in time
The moonlight's only one second old light
While sunlight, that's eight minute old sunshine
Eight minutes to reach Earth despite flying
As fast as light can. Alpha Centauri
The next nearest star, is - no point lying -
4.3 years old by the time we see
It from our vantage point. It's history
Sunday 23rd January 2011 1:11 pm
Also by Antonionioni:Hair |
Do you pose in pictures on your own?
Think you have pouting sensous lips and eyes of marble stone/
Do you take ass and make it into class?
Do you look in the mirror and can't tear your eyes away?
and you can't find a partner worthy enough of you
Have you got a blue steel look or Marilyn Monroe pose?
Do you have to many clothes?
Do your friends all think your great?
Saturday 22nd January 2011 4:12 pm
Also by Daniel Hooks:you make stories | I have a few questions? | Geekology | Make believe |
Mild for the weather for this time of year
outside, standing and chatting and laughing,
standing close and I’m trapped by the wall
and I feel enclosed, and I feel... I...
Standing close, I feel. And I shouldn’t feel.
Rain permeates the non-coloured memories
damp, sodden evenings and damp, sodden mornings
remembering: neglected, remembering rejection
Saturday 22nd January 2011 3:30 pm
The Scratchers and the Scrawlers
We shall not forget
Signs scrawled by Neanderthals on almost every wall we walked past.
An N, in capital form with two lines added, which digressed to suggest a capital F.
It was scratched into a table
It was scratched into many a table
It was scratched into too many a table often by near illiterate authors who wanted to blame...
Saturday 22nd January 2011 10:59 am
Also by Mark Mr T Thompson:Africa United | A couple of SA influenced pieces, first is a draft | When they came... | New X (30 years after the tragic fire) | She fed my soul | Confirmed up coming gigs | Equally bad (AKA Rantings of an antisexist man in a post-feminist world) | A why is... | If we are |
Saturday 22nd January 2011 1:48 am
Also by Dave Dunn:Quorellimus Quoragg | She Sang... | While They Scam... | My Head Hurts... ;) | The Borders Of Mankind | New Year Wishes |
close your eyes
and listen to the
sneaking in and out
of my window still.
Before I open the curtains,
listen to the nervousness
of my every touch
as I gently blow
over the tip of your hair
so it feels
like an imaginary comb
stroking your head.
Close your eyes
and listen to the branches
Friday 21st January 2011 8:20 am
Silver Foil upon my head
keeps the bastards out my bed,
they zap me here
they zap me there
trying to get
inside my head but
silver foil upon my head
keeps the bastards out my bed.
I see them here
I seem them there
but they won't get me
cause i've had my rum, and
silver foil upon my head
will give me peace
when I'm in bed
Thursday 20th January 2011 7:28 pm
Also by bernie shelton:Nerve | Skipping Stones | Afghanistan 74 | Brown Paper Bag | My Puppy Died | The View over Maimana | Dancing | The Bakery | She | Kevin The Keyhole | Painted Faces | Then the Rain Came Down | Stillborn | I AM | Passng of the Moon | The Girl With The Night In Her Eyes | Graffiti | Plastic Sheeting and Jerrycans | My Heavenly Guardian |
Searching threw the blue lagoon,
Entering shallows were the boats are tombs,
As I entered I saw a light,
Gave me scare,
Gave me freight.
So I stood still,
In this light was an angel,
And she did fill, every emotion of my own free will,
For all these emotions a man would kill,
So I stood still.
The water was moving,
The sharks were lurking,
While I was searching,
Thursday 20th January 2011 4:11 pm
I am a Pritt Stick (tm)
I love your hand.
The way it encloses,
and folds, it's perfect.
Designed, it seems
for my purpose.
I am a plastic keyring
Pride in my own ability
to hold and to keep.
Acceptance of my
and pocketed life.
I am a rug
Supporting all kinds
of step. No judge...
Thursday 20th January 2011 12:07 pm
Also by Jo Mayers:Another third person relationship poem; as yet untitled |
Wednesday 19th January 2011 8:26 pm
Also by alan barlow:Flambe | Maybe | One night | In task | The pen is mightier than the sword ? | She | The Scream | Torn | Insomniacs Ball | Conceptual | a moment in time | stripes | Starlight Over The Rhone | childhood |
Between crooked fingers between painted toes
Tired words of love pulled out of a hat like a rabbit
Faded the years swirl like fallen leaves
Her blind eyes watch him in the big brown bed
Darting his red rude tongue into the far corners of her pretty mouth
His breath yellow with a time he knew better
Wednesday 19th January 2011 4:01 pm
Also by Augusta Darling:Dark and Mystic Waters |
Crimson gulps tea
rough hands grasping the mug
Off centre like Wednesday
Trying to get even
and at one with her past
She dreams on tip-toes
of grass birds nests
and the seagulls serenade.
Giggles at the secrets
Reality is a five by seven mile
longing for curves.
It snaps rule...
Tuesday 18th January 2011 7:38 pm
We've now opened up the OpenSpace at our OpenMind events for up to date news and information please visit: http://www.facebook.com/pages/OpenMind/140135849364508
The Facebook event page is here: http://http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=164226033624311
After our headliner and special guests we have 2 hours to fill with OpenSpace slots so if you'd like to read at a poetry...
Tuesday 18th January 2011 12:45 am
Also by IndigoAngelUshiku:Bright Lights Off | Broken Bridges | The Death of War | High Society |
With pride being my weakess, I'd cut my nose off to spite my face,
but at the end of the day, it would only be me who falls from Grace.
So I walk on by with a Cheshire Cat grin,
and now the truth is out its only me who can win.
My rose tinted glasses are now fully removed,
I've only just realised it was myself that needed to be proved.
I had been blinde...
Saturday 15th January 2011 5:05 pm
Where are the keys
why do we suffer these
nine to five, making the best of things
six to twelve, I'm not making the most of me
Where is the doorway into
the life we always thought was ours
five years pass, then ten years have passed
I'm older now but no nearer to where I want to be
why do we dwell here
are you the key
are you the one for me
Thursday 13th January 2011 11:39 pm
Also by Tom:Hush Little Nightmare | Childhood - Competition Follow Up to 'Space' |
You tear to shreds
My already frayed edges.
A patch worked rescue attempt.
There is little strength found
in the weakness of this cloth.
Once adorned, a sequined delight
Still a shimmer in the right light
Restore to former glorious glamour.
Flat Iron this crinkled mess
wear with a vintage heart.
Thursday 13th January 2011 12:10 am
That was a big house
Came down out the sky
And in the end it fell on me
Just my sparkly shoes to show
I really have been so wicked
A young girl now is wearing
My sparkly shoes,
Clicking her heels and feeling fine
She thinks I am dead, but
In this invisibility of middle age
I am enjoying the privacy
And the pleasure of knowing
I don’t nee...
Wednesday 12th January 2011 11:53 pm
A man and a room.
A man walks into a room.
He's a man, definitely a man.
Not a lady, or a unicorn,
or an urchin.
Does he seek out virgins?
Not that I'm aware of.
Was he at any time a lady?
A man walks into a room.
The definite article of a man.
Walking into a room.
Is he Our man?
Our man walks into a room.
Our man ...
Wednesday 12th January 2011 9:16 am
snapdragons around the garden chase
the manic butterflies embrace
the warmth, the light, their endless day
below them vivid scents sashay
a gusting waft soars up then dips
that ordered plot is now eclipsed
as rough and coarse the wild hedge
hides villains twixt its rush and sedge
cultured cultiation lost
sky and horizon now accost
and gobble up that force...
Tuesday 11th January 2011 9:47 pm
(dedicated to Nick Clegg)
I sit by the harbour
and I wake in bed cursing the moment
when I realised I could set any tune on my phone
as my alarm clock noise, and my own laziness
for never changing it after
our summer trip to Whitby,
where we ate breakfast in the Caedmon cafe,
poky, basic, vaguely disappointing
(so appropriately named after a poet),
Tuesday 11th January 2011 8:21 pm
Also by AJ McKenna:Traume |
Here we ask is the media and the cosmetics industry as oppressive to women as the Islamic burqua?
Tuesday 11th January 2011 12:11 am
The snow made my road look clean,
grey-brown ruts and cracks became pristine,
and the cleansing power of the rain
only restored all the hidden shame
of broken paving slabs patched with tarmac,
crumbling kurb stones and crooked drains,
mismatched roof tiles, weeds in gutters
dog and cat shit now uncovered;
a washed up wonderland rediscovered.
Sunday 9th January 2011 1:41 pm
Your choices are like ripple rings
In the consciousness of time
Through your actions and thoughts
From your heart and mind
Rings clashing with rings
Turn to unstoppable waves
Of hatred, anger and torture
Imposed externally and within
Choose to choose another choice
With love in your heart and song in your voice
Sunday 9th January 2011 2:16 am
Here in my childhood
wearing robes my mother chose for me
I play; I grow; I learn how to please
Here in my childhood
wearing robes my teachers chose for me
I grow and play, learn how to appease
Here in my childhood
wearing robes I earned and chose for me
I travel the world with a 'hold-all'
Here in my childhood
we walk; my love, my life ...
Saturday 8th January 2011 1:55 pm
I thought it was an excellent present
It was from Amazon, you know
I did spend time thinking about what to get you
Knowing that you say all the gifts I get are ‘poo’
It’s stressful, you spoilt bugger!
When I saw today that you’d already put it in the cupboard
I literally shuddered
At the thought of a 5...
Saturday 8th January 2011 12:08 am
Also by Jo Carter:'Sock War' (Childhood) |
Wednesday 5th January 2011 5:28 pm
I thought I might propose some prose.
“Indian’s Head,” she said, out of the blue. “that’s where I want you to scatter my ashes, son.”
I almost dropped the tea I’d brought, about her twentieth that night; surprised just as much at the fact she was talking about death at all, let alone her own.
“Indian’s Head? I didn’t know you’d ever…”
“I think it was the happiest day of my life ...
Wednesday 5th January 2011 2:55 pm
So, this is the house of God
Another one, eh?
How many houses do you need?
I thought you lived in Mount Sion
Or sat on your throne in the kingdom of Heaven
But here I am in your ‘house’
Where are you?
I’ve been and called for you loads of times
But you are never in
Look, I know you are busy,
but I think you are taking the piss now
Even your Son seems ...
Wednesday 5th January 2011 7:55 am
Where do birds bury their dead?
I know they do…
Walking in woodlands,
Parks, leafy streets
Cross-cut with instant meadow
Inter-lacing gardens, cross-hatched
With secretly nesting winged-wonders
Emerging to eat, scavenge, court,
Talk, endlessly talk..
Now the muffling commune of ice
Has freed blind stores of food
Beyond this killer camp of cold
Tuesday 4th January 2011 9:46 pm
A Sixties Adolescence
Just fourteen and not yet shaving,
Awkward at the youth club dance,
Older girls in floral dresses,
Knowing that I had no chance.
Harder grind at daytime lessons,
Can’t do French its such a bore,
English homework that’s a pleasure,
Simple signs of what’s in store.
Khrushchev settled in the Kremlin,
Shadows of t...
Monday 3rd January 2011 5:39 pm
Also by Ian Gant:A Fifties Childhood | Progress | Hope | All Downhill From Here | Year Ten | Tadpoles In a Jar | Mendacity | Road Kill, A Lapin Lament | SWANSONG | The Passions and The Place |
Here are the stats for December 2010.
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* 182 poets' profiles where updated on the showcase
* 2,564 ‘comments’ wer...
Saturday 1st January 2011 12:00 pm