Poetry Blogs (Dec 2011)

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Life is Just a Wave

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We watch the transient nature

Of energy in a wave or ripple

And the short life of smaller things,

We notice them change only because

They have a shorter life-cycle than us.


We observe the permanent nature

Of cold inanimate objects

And the long life of bigger things,

We do not notice them change because

They have a longer life-cycle than us.



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I can taste you
I can feel you
writhing struggiling for breathe deep inside me
the past shall not over take thy present
the future is a desire a need as you grow day by day
A need, A Lust and A Fantasy

I can taste you
I can feel you
writhing and struggiling for the essence of life deep inside me
Your will shall not over power my desire for a better being

A state of ectas...

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The Samaritans charity's YouTube channel links to my Video poem 'So Sad WAS I'

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Wow. I have only just seen that The Samaritans Charity official YouTube channel has favourited the video of my poem 'So Sad WAS I' which I wrote about calling the Samaritans helpline a few years ago. Please click on this link to hear and see it, on the Samaritans Charity Official YouTube channel.
The Samaritans helpline is here 24 / 7
Are you vulnerable? Feeling low?

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bsafe1stalwayscharityhelplineJohn Harrisonpoempoetpoetrysuicidlethe samaritansvulnerable






Twisting rusting wire tightly wound round the base coiling it’s way from electrode to electrode dancing in blue electricity reflecting off the dull tarnished surface, metallic colours shine in the dimly lit light making pain burn through my body, torturing me with pleasure and pain in a collage of hell.

I’m a human mind hooked up for the electrical trip of a l...

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I’ll put on the table a New Year tree,

The smell of pine needles will fill my flat.

Champagne, chocolate…and I’ll start my spree,

With three candles I’ll chat.


These candles will be my spiritual world,

The lonely party is always free.

My heart will be twirled and purled,

Curse of troubles these candles will be.


With champagne I’ll fill the cryst...

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Also by Larisa Rzhepishevska:

There..... | Answer My Question, Please! | A Man Says | In One of Those Countries He Was Born | Hurry up! Hurry up! Hurry up! | I Was Always Sure, Now I Am Not. | He is My Hero | Don't Cut Her Wings! | Don't Cut Her Wings! | I AM TIRED | Glamour, Glamour, Glamour.... |

new year

New Year’s Day on Brighton Pier

That Hogmanay, that blissful distant winter

Along by Brighton Pier, we went to wander.

Resolutions made, we roamed on, rambling

Past the hulks of trundling traffic rumbling.

With no breath of heavy weather brewing,

Sea was millpond still, with no wind blowing;

Mild midwinter sun, echoing summer,

Sparkled on the swell, all silken shimmer.


Squawking seagulls ...

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Also by C Richard Miles:

View from a steamed-up bus window |

new year

White Widow


I have been lost,

tempered by a wind as wide

as the colours of a solar eclipse,

and the cold winter downs

that grab my hairs

in exposure.


I am pure in sadness,

the look of me, weighed heavy

with the white shape

my face sheds,

unlovely - the mad

truth, kept by


who say I am.


Aloft, fragile,

a salmon sky designs


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Also by Marianne Daniels:

Infant | Make Believe | Idea | The Witch's Brew | Daisies | Amorphous |

Coastlines and laughter

his sketches of the blue coastlines
was like a disaster film
done on a none indie budget
in miniature.


his sketches of the coastlines
contained a mood
like an acoustic
version of autumn
stripped back
so the leaves were only
half dead and the branches
half mangled.


his sketches, so pure and
blind it was obvious
he had nothing

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Bonding Over the Argos Catalogue

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I’m stuck for what to buy for my 11 year old

So big sister prises herself off Facebook

to help spend my money 

(an honourable cause, in her books)

and suddenly we’re flicking through the years

as she remembers the day Santa died

a friend’s house, a dinner table

how adult and child laughed as they stuck the knives in

how she’d wanted to cry, but joined in

ten ...

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Also by Isobel:

Alternative Reality |



I felt a surge of adrenalin when I read what I read, For no reason, It is dulling now but the pulses stay. I wanted to jump out of my skin. I'm savouring the sweet hour of goodness for I'm sure it will be the shortest. I appreciate the fantasy.

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(One of those defining moments in a lifetime when anyone old enough can recall what they were doing.  We were all doing the same thing - shitting ourselves.  Its 50 year anniversary in 2012.) 



I’d never heard my mum or dad speak like that before;

“Shut up!” they shouted as we played upon the kitchen floor;

This photograph of memory will live for evermore.


An ov...

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Also by John Coopey:

Le Pere Fouettard | In the Bleak Mid-Winter | Shopper's Revenge | Dear Sarah and Samantha | Haddlesey Bells (Gabriel's Story) | Akram and the Tank |

The World and Mirror

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I stood and stared-

a long time seeking

a welcome gaze

that returned my greeting.


The World stared back

then went its way,

perhaps to lunch,

perhaps to play.


My friend the Mirror-

a listener of sorts,

in silence watched

and kept its thoughts.


Words and foto T Carroll


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Also by Tommy Carroll:

Simple expositions | I love Bill Hicks (while being tickled) | Waking in the dark |

American Diner

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American Diner

Near constellations usurp a further nova across a firefly of avenues

That stretch beyond the appetite for rebellious isolation.

Where they congregate to be lonely together, with friends too near for comfort.

The nation forged on the flipside of a griddle holds another loneliness

Sitting at another table.


Between incandescence in the nearness of neon ...

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Also by Peter Asher:

This country needs Clarkson |


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through morning-blurred vision

I wake

to see my sister

dancing like a demented bird

round the bedroom


“He's been!”

“He's been!”

butterflies overwhelm my stomach

“I thought I heard bells!”

I say

sitting up

rubbing away persistent sleep


“I did too!”

she said

eyes widening in mock agreement

I follow her in the ...

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christmas brass bells ornaments childhood

Living outside.....Life?

As time passed I became used to a REAL lasting peace in this place of unbelievabilty where it had always lived.   And I named this place -NotAnyWhereonEarth- 

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Not faint or fool to harsh regret,

No guilty feelings come to call,

The cards once dealt I seize and play,

And win or lose I love them all.


Contempt’s contentment stills the soul,

As bitter herbs the palate pall,

But better still to crush the doubt,

And blame the serpent for the fall.


This tapestry we call our lives,

Is threa...

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Also by Ian Gant:

SPIDER | Patrick And The Devil | Twelfth Night | DECEMBER MUSINGS ( A Modern Christmas Carol ) | The Heart of Winter |


north star

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We rip the lights out of the window

without ceremony

cast into a cardboard box marked xmas

The marker pen cannot spell straight

cannot write with the same careful script 

that foretold the coming of the season.

We throw old vegetables 

in the pot

in this stew we ferment 

the awkward mouthfuls

with trapped wind.

So, I wonder what happened to the North ...

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12 days after Christmas

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On the first day after Christmas my true love and I had a terrible, terrible argument and she threw a variety of pots and pans at me, so I strangled the Partridge and burnt down the Pear tree that my true, my true love gave to me. Things didn’t get any better by the end of the second day, when she started throwing plates at me like Boomerangs, and so, in a vicious frenzy I took ou...

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Also by Andy N:

Christmas Acrostic | Poems published on poemhunter |



This is repeated - now with the correct tag shown.


Be grateful for the dark days,

And when one comes in sight

Don't waste your time in wondering

When life will turn out right.


Be grateful for the dark days,

And when one comes along,

Forget about despairing

Over h...

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Also by M.C. Newberry:



One more chances

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Endless relentless tormenting arguments,

Shut that slut mouth love,

Abusive corrosive explosive darling,

Music to my hairy ears.

Downed the stella quick flash,

Backhand backlash reflex,

                    Not right,

I forgive, daily.

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Also by Joseph Kennedy:

2 | She is | Archenemy | Dry | Jesus was a carpenter | Hour snow | Cinderella | It's the most wonderful time of the year | Fade to grey |

aloneno more second chancessadnesssingle


The circle won't be squared

The edge is not single

Punches are pulled

Layers multiply

Angles are multi-faceted

Facets are many-angled.

Wheels contain wheels

One boobytrapped thing leads to another.

Turns are twisted.

Twists are turned.

Plots thicken

Games are played.

There are ambushes as

memories materialise and pain persists.

Curve b...

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Also by Dave Bradley:

Hills in Winter | Father. Christmas | cause & effect | The Itch |

Prince Harry's Stag Do

My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen
and subjects of the room.
I'm here today to warn you
of impending certain doom.

I will go in to detail
so sit back if you please
as I reveal a royal event
that may bring much unease.

I heard a wicked whisper
that filled me full of dread,
I'm told that dear Prince Harry
well, he might be getting wed.

That isn't the biggest issue though

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Also by Jack Pascoe:

There are bouncers in McDonalds now |

Present Arms


Present Arms



…………da da da da da da da da

Da da da da da da da da,

     You’re making like a train

With you and your friends,

Every first step slammed in

To take your mind off the pounding

In your chest, and the pain,

And it’s train tracks

All the way to barracks,

     Where the Men sleep

Before another day of fatigues,

And the tr...

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Also by Noetic-fret!:

Every Grain of Sand | Never Shall We Forget | Delusion Fields feat. Noetic-fret! | Sing It In | Their Abhorrence of Love | A Simple Seasonal Wish | Found By A Malevolent Wind | On Being Judged | On Misunderstanding Each Soul |

Homeless Veterans

As 2012 Approaches

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As twenty twelve approaches, 
all our futures are unsure,
but combined efforts can provide,
means to join us all the more,
in ways to solve our problems,
by supplying food, not arms,
putting aside those age old conflicts,
that have only ever caused us harm.
It will take but our willing hearts,
to make the change from ways of old,
that have nev...

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Also by Dave Dunn:

True Love Will Still Win | Around All Our Tables | The Future Is So Near | Common Needs |



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Under the ground

Soil muffles the sound

This is where the dead sleep.


So quiet and still

All is peace under this hill.

The granite pillow marking their bed.


They can’t hear the cries,

The reluctant goodbyes,

Of loved ones above the  ground.


Their troubles are ended

Their struggles all gone

And the living?


The living live on...

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200 Miles


Long walks over grassy knolls

Stumble over mounds dug by moles

The right amount of milk in the tea

Taking apart the couch looking for your key

The subtle intimacies that we share

That shows each other how much we care

Me staring at you when you sleep

Hitting my arm to call me a creep


This is our first Christmas together

But there’s a slight niggle...

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Happy Holidays

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Also by Shirley Smothers:

He Didn't Care Too | He Didn't Care | Homeless |

The Christmas Fox

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Last one from me for this year, then. These are the lyrics to my Christmas song which has been released into the wild; it’s called The Christmas Fox and it’s available via iTunes http://bit.ly/s3K0Ro or Amazon  http://amzn.to/sOZGbJ  or other good mp3 retailers.  Season’s Greetings to one and all.


The fox in the city saw the snow begin to fall

And he stopped to stare in wonder at ...

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Also by Fifi Fanshawe:

The Nine Letters of Christmas | A favour, please... | ManagementSpeak |


Winter, Blinded

Woke to the 
kiss of winter's ache and the
thud double dip and dance
of some kind of animal outside.
A fire burning somewhere. 

To you, the blind lady,
winter was just a series
of sensations –
the scratch of a naked branch,
the rain (only colder).

The utter embrace of silence.



This was for a contest on deviantART in which contestants were challenged to describe winter,...

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This is where she keeps her objet d’art

glass cabinet at the back of her head


            nowhere to display them


I’m a front room, Christmas, 50’s. 60’s

maybe into the 70’s and I ask

what was the front room for?


English clipped tones and a mother not

unlike my own through china eyes of an owl


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Last poem of the year

Merry Xmas to All

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The feast of Yule returns again

With glad and merry times;

The bells are ringing out for you

Their joyous, cheery chimes.

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Also by J F Keane:

December II - Stockport WoL Collage Poem | December - Stockport WoL Collage Poem | November II - Collage Poem Created by Stockport WoL | November - Collage Poem Created by Stockport WOL |


Luimneach 23/12/11

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It is clear that when push comes to shove,

The solution to strife's not above:

It's right here on Earth,

With each precious child's birth;

That the only way forward's with

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Three Poems

Have a look at these and the haiku would be great if you like to vote 




I am haiku #12 and it is my first attempt so let me know what you think

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The Ballad of Private Manning

The Ballad of Private Manning

Vaclav Havel died today:
you spoke of freedom far away,
but in a courtroom in your land,
the witnesses denied the stand
told the story, gave the lie
to that song you sing, the flag you fly.
You are not brave, and neither are you free,
and though you claim it, you do not love liberty.
While Private Manning sits in jail
your Founding Fathers' drea...

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This thin white skin is easily burnt

and my head is a shade of ginger.

Genteel society snubs Virginia,

can no more bear smoke and mirrors -

I make them cough, more or less.

But out here I’m top dog:

the draw that drags him hither

leaves him gasping for more;

my scent anathema

to her that final winter.


He’s changing colour

to a late afternoon in ...

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 Make time

Create space

Nurture memories

Be still



Write it down

Read it back



We’ve forgotten

The French Revolution

The American Revolution

The Haitian Revolution

The Civil War

The Civil Rights Movement

Black Nationalism and Black Arts

All revolutions are not equal

Every struggle has not been ...

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Also by J. Otis Powell‽ (with interrobang):

Juke Joint Named JAZZVILLE | Ancient Young Souls | Fiancé | Octopus Ink | Left by Nikky Finney winner of The National Book Award |

conjureReciperevolutionThe Haitian RevolutionToussaint L’Ouverture

Your Sax Is On Fire

I have a new book of satirical poetry published at the beginning of January.

A review of it is below.


It can be bought from all leading on-line booksellers. Let me know what you think if you purchase it.



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Hallowe’en masks

Fancy dress masks

Frankenstein masks

Ghostface Killer masks

Freddy Krueger masks

Tony Blair masks.


Domino masks for the secret ball

To hatch schemes and match-make

To flirt and fornicate.


Smooth white actors’ masks

In an impassive chorus to watch us.


An iron mask to silence a man

And kill him inside himself.


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Tough Love


He might be dirty and he might smell bad

He begs for your money and it makes you mad

But who is the better of the two?

I’m sorry, it ain’t you

There goes the grace of God

And you are found wanting

You’re selfish, greedy and manipulating

Even though you’re rich and full to bursting

You still despise a man with nothing

Would you sooner see him starve?


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Also by Neil West:

I Couldn't Care Less |

(Very) Random Act Of Xmas Woollenness

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Everyone round at ours, Xmas was beginning to take shape

The cap-

-on in the oven, roasting nicely

Smells pervading,


Knee high in presents waiting to be opened

By the nieces, nephews and the oldies

Even the dog

Had a frog-

-gy toy

He’d been a good boy

Walking proud, barking loud

All year long

And in for a treat, but sadly not meat


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Your Horse Ate My Pyjamas


O come all ye faithless,

All your sodding family,

O come ye to my house

And view the debris.

Come see the broken glass

And the trampled down front door.


Your horse ate my pyjamas,

Your horse ate my pyjamas,

Your horse ate my pyjamas,

Thanks a lot!


O come bring your siblings,

Your sister is a menace,

She stole my identity

And ...

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Also by Lynn Dye:

Restless | Seizing the Moment! | Waiting | Plea for November |

WOL Comp

An Ingres Back

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She has an Ingres back

She is a violin

And when she’s in his arms

She sweetly plays for him


She doesn’t know the words

He doesn’t know the tune

There’s a duet of sorts

In that sweet dark bedroom


His fingerwork is good

Her mouth is soft and warm

While she is in his arms

They will not come to harm


Her voice is like a lute

And y...

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Also by Ann Foxglove:

in sleep | in arms not meant |


Talk about lucky.



Just bought a scratch card

And won 200 pound,

From a quid that I’d found

Outside the gaff of a woman

I’d met in a bar -


She owned an Off-licence,

She drove a 40 grand car.


She took me to this restaurant:

Greek, I think


Order what you want, she said

Then it’s back to mine fo...

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Also by mike watts:

And i think to myself. | Limp |

Ain’t Never Been So Precious

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Ain’t Never Been So Precious


I ain’t never been so precious

With owt I’ve pissed on before

As I laid it down dead gentle

On the bathroom floor

Cushioned with Cushelle

I waited perched on the loo

Already knew the protocol

Knew exactly what to do

With one line

I’d sigh ‘not this time’

And try, try again

I eventually decided this one were fucke...

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WOL Competition

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Happiness is a true measure of life.
It is contagious and speaks volumes
Banishes dark imaginings,
Brightens skies and lifts the soul.
Life revolves around seconds of experience.
Be in control
Fill your eyes with  wonder and surprise.
Listen only to the sounds that 
Make  fear and disappointment  dis...

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happiness.WOL Competition on optimism

David John Hughes

Read more …

WOL Competition – a reminder!

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Nine entries so far folks! I forgot to say that if anyone wants to submit more than one entry – feel free. The closing date is January 5th 2012, after which I’ll open the voting. I have purposely refrained from commenting on entries until after the closing date.

Still two weeks to get your entry posted. For entry stipulations please see here:


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Also by Anthony Emmerson:

WOL Competition! |

WOL comp

Olfactory Evoked Recall

A perfect blue


Green on silver



Silk distance

Shard swept

Petals groomed

For the wind.


Fumed curls

From the copper


Somehow entitles

Visions of childhood.


The fragrance

Of things lost

Stands still in the street.

Infinite memories

You feel it.


Olfactory evoked recall


I ...

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Also by Kealan Coady:

The Real Hell | Skull Profit | The Moon, 2211 |

God Loves a Sinner

After R.B.


I sat with Bukowski

on the steps of the

dock, smoking a

cigarette, shooting

lasers at the moon to

measure the distance

from dusk to dawn.

He talked about drink,

starvation and crazy,

crazy women. I talked

about Plato, Elvis and

Baudelaire. The sun

went down and the sun

came up. The post office

dug its deep claws


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An Ode To Skyrim

Well as usuall I have been empowered by a computer game which is influencing my day to day life in ways that only a stupidly in depth game like Skyrim can do.

 So with this fresh inspiration I have penned a little something about my other life in the digital realm.



An Ode To Skyrim


Frozen wastes on hallowed ground

Captured and in shackles bound

Sound ...

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Also by Matt Tilke:

Extraction |

DragonsElder ScrollsFantasySkyrimvideo gamesWizards

in silence

like a moth fatally attracted

fatally attracted to scalding luminosity

you summon all your charms and wit

showering her with accolades

worming your way into her heart

for there they say love dwells


then she turns into frankenstein

robbing you of  your peace

throwing many a weird tantrum

as she becomes a dangerous control freak

turning your life into...

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Governmental Outcries

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Governmental Outcries

The True Minority Report

Hush, hush, hush over a black shoebox… tap twice and watch the back flips, tap once and listen to the evil shit, tap trice to know who’s really controlling it. Let see… we got dreadlocks however we not a rasta, we have great supernatural objections towards the pollutions of cults, against our will, we was baptized as a catholic, howe...

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Artist@Large The Scribe future book projectCreative SharingPoetic Essay

In the End

At night we sealed the light in, to be safe.

There was music, and the sewing machine whirred.

We played on the rug with a painted wooden car,

Like the one Daddy used to drive, when there was petrol.


Now every night the warden was on his bike,

In the pitch black streets, checking the dark houses

In case the careless light was spilling out;

The rain on his rubber...

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Childhood memorieswartime




Ah, that was a sight!

Betty in the end-of-summer light.


A recent rinse of rain had washed the air

Glistening the low sun`s shining everywhere,

When a frisk wind, come upon her laughing there,

Wrestled with the sun-glints in her hair.

And, snatching her long carillons of delight,

So tossed them every place around the height

That the coming night


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Yum Yum.

You can burn a photo, but you're left with the memory.

You can eat an apple, but you're left with the core.

You can abort a baby, but you're left with the scars.

You can eat an orange, but you're left with the peel.

You can kill a man, but you're left with the wounds.

You can eat a chocolate, but you're left with the wrapper.

You can cheat on a friend, but y...

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The steel riveted sky of our industrial town    

Hung beyond the chaotic bricks

Of the bangle warm shops,

 Glowing in their Christmas finery.


As I wandered past, bending into the sharp edged frost,

A stranger crossed my path.

 Tide-marked shoes, a desperate eye

Empty pockets, empty values, drugs?

I knew not- an open white palm,

“Have you a gift?” he whi...

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Christmas Hope

The best I never had

In a world of tv clichés

I thought our series would be timeless,

that it would survive the seasons.


I laugh as I remember

How I Met Your Mother.

Confused on an interstate car park,

cellphones and calamity.

Only to feel underwhelmed.


You said “it's not just the jetlag”,

I said “how can anyone fall in love with a zombie?”

eating hearts for ...

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Also by Ushiku Crisafulli:

Finding the Beauty in Christmas |


A Day in my LIfe

A day in my life

I wish you could see

Just what it's like

To be plain me.


A little bit picky

And a stickler for what's right

When everything's going rough

I read poetry all night.


when yesterdays anger 

Storms into my way

I raid my silent mind

And hope for a better day.


When evening draws near

And sadness cascades down my fac...

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Hymn of a Northern Clime

All hail the Winter Solstice!

The everlasting Sun

Force of Light and Life

Returns to us once more.


O Sun, we trust Thee.

Thou wilt not abandon us

To desolation of shadow

And frozen sleep.

We honour

Your guardians of gloom

The gliding Moon, your Eyes of Night

And Sky Fire.



We celebrate and make merry

With feasting, drin...

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WOL Competition on optimism



half mackerel sky'

emblazoned by the moon

you galvanise the towpath

track i tread upon at dusk


nocturnal creatures stir

a hedgehog leaves his lair

to snout for buried grubs

in frost chilled ground


collage of the trees

and sky are lit upon the

water’s face and birdie’s eyes

are peering from the shrubs


graceful are the swans


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Also by Philipos:


The Sea Creaks

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The Sea Creaks

Like the rigging on our boat

Clouds swirl

Like a Spanish dancer

More and more

Faster and faster

Seagulls glide to the Shore

Their wings nudged by the Wind

A sublime ending to our day

We stand here soaked by spray

Totally moved

Because the Sea Creaks


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Daily Libation

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Raise again this chalice,
fearsome and seductive;
that brims with venom
and sparkles with promise

that in the twilight beckons...

Raise this goblet
to once satin lips
now runnelled with
bypassed dreams,

you hope but hope in vain...

Gulp down your fill,
wait for forgetfulness still;
let the dregs of this cup
caress your wearied mind,

'til dawn tops i...

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Chains or The Lost Cadence of a Victorian Carol

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High up a shuttered window is flung open.
A ‘Splutch’ of snowmelt tumbles wetly to the ground.
I look up and the stick figure scratches madly against the cold clear sky.
He pumps out salvation from every angle,
A body that had long ago forgotten joy,
Now twitches with rivulets of unabashed wonder.
Hope blazes out of his parchment skin,
Friendship beams out of his gimlet...

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CarolCharles DickensChristmasMarleyWinter


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I sit thinking my world is caving in, im drowning in self pity, we all do, its not a sin... Put a smile on my face cheer up I say, worse things going on in the world today!  Turn the old red slit on the face the right way up, lifes can be tough, take it on the chin and never give in.....

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Also by Lesley Whittaker:


Grunkling Never Gets You Anywhere

Darkle trunkles the saddest tune
aye, flurtling on a sorry moon,
I'll wail and forrock, hear
Borrocks boom, the desolate
crunk of Nurkles.

Ah, flobble frink I see you there,
Crink Corple behind the chair,
sniff jumkles then, see if I care
your snoffle lumps you will not share,
not one small flot for me?

(sobbing in a pathetic way)

Oh darkle foobit, wise Flobblejobs

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nonsense comp

Carry me away


Darkness falls

Black clouds descend, hang over my head

Waiting for a change, forecast remains the same

Regrets blowing in from the east, a storm is brewing

There’s a drought of happiness, tears a-plenty

Umbrella of smiles to shield me against the world

as I battle each day waiting to be carried away.


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Also by Na'im:

Faltering Faith | Castaway |

Tigerella Warrior



he loves a stripey woman:

criss-cross pinkness  

ridged in parts,

running riptide on the skin of

a sinner full of scars


she loves a man of god who

kisses ribbons telling tales,

in faded brutal pale, of

a history containing all the

counting of the blessings by the strip


he traces the beginning mark:

a scar that’s warm and wet bu...

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WOL comp

Sat broken

Sat broken,

smashed by my own lusts.

Yet I find you still here, picking up the pieces.


Again I've done you wrong.

But again I find you putting me back together,

making me whole.


How can I deserve this,

after what I've done.


I don’t deserve this,

and yet, still,

I find you here.

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I would

But your leg is in the way.

These - little - things

we say

Simple, shortcuts, safe.

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Gigs this Week - ending with Paper Tiger Poetry!

Here we go...
Sunday 4th December
RRRANTS at the Camden Eye
2 Kentish Town
London NW1 9NX
Maplink: http://g.co/maps/ntgfz
Gig starts: 7:30
Free Entry
Monday 5th December
Hammer and Tongue
The Victoria
451 Queensbridge Road
E8 3AS
Maplink: http://www.thedalstonvic.co.uk/...

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‘Ribbit!’ said Tiddles
As he sat in the grass
At the bottom of the yard
Not looking like a cat at all.

For one thing, he was green
Whereas this morning he’d been
Tabby and warm and furry and purry
With ‘Miaow!’ his favourite word

‘Here, puss, puss!’ I cried
‘Ribbit!’ he replied, as he spotted
A spider, caught it with his tongue
And swallowed it in one gulp


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December 2011 New Members

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Tony Morris




Matthew Derbyshire


Michael Arnold Williams


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new members


Where am I now, and where have I been?

Will I come stumbling this way again?

Will I commit further unpleasant sin

At the whim of my changeable, idiot brain?


I know I've been different and distant of late,

My thinking: unfathomed; my actions: unkind,

And the only response I can truthfully state:

It seemed like the right thing to do at the time

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It is no coincidence that weary rhymes with dreary,

Faded dreams come back to haunt me,

Memories close like the tropical humidity, 

Attempts to re- trace my steps, lead to uncovering a corpse that needed no autopsy,

Best to leave what is unsaid, said in the heart, but locked away in the head.

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Night Moorings

To be tossed from the sea of a upside-down mattress
Onto shaky coffee grounds
Late mornings fail to try early nights 
An anchorite floundering helplessly
Trying to connect his vessel
With the bed of your body of water
Flailling in my pit
Like an uncomprehensibly simple page
Torn from life's rich tapestry
Light slipping - a heavy ...

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