Poetry Blogs (Feb 2011)

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Edward 11

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 An historically accurate account of a conversation between the King and one of his courtiers.



“Prithee, knave, what scribe you there,

By candlelight and fire?”


“Your immortality’s the toil

On which I labour, sire.

For future generations

Your life and legacy

Transcribed upon these parchments

Your obituary.”


“And does this legacy descri...

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Also by John Coopey:

The Magpie | Interview | Tiles | Tiny Hands | The Hunter | Happy Birthday, Jill | The Red Lady of Paviland | 6/4 Against | Man Boobs | Hierarchy of Evil |

the second coming

we’ve come so far

so soon


her in her

pink pyjamas

 - cute as a box of kittens -


drinking Merlot, laughing

comfortable with each other

so soon


she puts something on


Vivaldi, I think,

my fishy fingers

a premonition


her favourite she says

- Sole Meunière.

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Also by Banksy:

window-lickers | around dawn | I coulda had religion | Stars n' Stripes | David Harsent - "Red" | down the burbs | I have no idea what has just happened to my last blog entry - sorry ! | down the burbs | Yolande | Pretty in Pink | surf's up | Hitler's Sister | the waiter in the woods | someday | retro-fitted smile | nana | the savage | close to the edge | Morning | pardon my French |

I'm Wired

Its quiet,  so silent,  its deafening.

The darkness creeps rite on in

Thoughts running,  through my mind

Circles,  then repeats all in good time

Its cold,

i'm frozen,

suspended in time


Voices,  choices,  pathways

Roads to roam,  no way home

I'm wired, i'm fired, so tired

But the voices carry on


I'm shouting, i'm drowning, in this silence


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Also by Ian Devine:

Lets go paint a Rainbow | Your out of reach | Self induced Insomnia | The Buzz i Love | A Broken Promise | The Devil came a Knocking. | Star Gazer | Human fears | Time Hurts | Tracks and Cracks | Step back in time | From a distance... | Car't take my eyes off you..... (for Sarah xx) | Tick | (untitled) |

This is what friends are about

This is what friends are about

And abuse
Throw to the side
When you use them, you decide
Always there when you need
Asleep, awake or even when you eat
But when you find one better than this
Throw away, recycle or even dismiss
As after that they'll get in the way
And you already have a new one to put in display

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Young words.

how easy it was 

for us to snatch them from the air


Not realising

they had grown within us

and  how goldenly.

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All Is Forgotten

All Is Forgotten


He fully expected they would find him dead one day;

On the floor perhaps, or in a vomit encrusted bed.

Instead he survived, to experience

The humiliations that life would throw his way;

Nights in cells and forgotten weekends,

Countless protracted court cases and then bankruptcy,

Though not even the sale of houses and rare items

Could wipe o...

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Notes On Ed Gein

Exhumed the dead.

Made various things

Out of humans.

Bowls, clothes,

Necklaces, lampshades.


Then began to kill.

Bodies strung

Upside down

Like animal carcus.



Ten skulls found in the kitchen.


Decaying faces

Hanging on the wall. Some

With lipstick drawn on them

And a shoebox of noses.

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Also by Kealan Coady:

Long Gone Crawling | Thinking In Image. | The It Of It. | Sullen fallow hollow | Mood Translation One: Warehouse | Car Crash Blowjob | Fire On The Outskirts Of Perth. | A Small Encounter Whilst Bringing Back Gravy To The Shop | People Underestimate The Effects Of Temperature. | Sanity Is A Crushed Butterfly | In Times Of Wretched | This Chair Will Still Be Here | I Want All The Whores In The World To Be Happy |

Break My Heart

Break my heart,
but don’t lead me on.
Play your part,
until the deed is done.
Leave your mark,
branded on my soul.
Whispers in the dark,
my secrets you’re told.
Smitten from the start,
I watch my love unfold.
Break my heart,
but don’t lead me on.

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Also by Steven Kenny:

Dreams | Discovery | Flotsam | Valentine | Breakwater | Dear Diary... |

The Grandfather Clock


Of what mechanisms, are we?

I reach in and grab your tonsil.


From a mime, I learnt such conversations

of a back and forth, and a back and forth –

a batted ball, a wall, of a mouth and a hand –

 make clockwork,

a life’s work.

At your feet I sit, imagining your knots

are tangerines, dropping fizzing

pills straight into my stomach,

where they gr...

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Also by Marianne Daniels:

Remember Me |


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Time the creaping thief, relentless in its war against belief.                                                                                               Destroyerof all things, it leads us on with healing tones,                                                                                                     promisses of spring in winters depth, then in autums beauty it casts a chilly bre...

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Also by griff:

a shallow view |

The Crow

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the old crow
that blotted out the sun
perched upon a fencepost
and made faces
I have only ever seen
with nose pressed
against the pane
as I spied
fallen leaves taken
onto the saddle
of a chilling breeze
to where tomorrow
could not yet be


Please make your response or comment on my profile page. Thank you.

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You found them.


White lipped in the bath

like strawberries and cream

floating, bloated

at the edges of reservoirs

swaying, plum faced,

a rope’s length away

broken winged

below the bridges

curled like foetuses

at the sharp end of a needle

the blank-eyed children

who’d never learned to laugh

the crimson smear


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small, chubby hands
pat, dimples winking

she scoops again,
spade quivering.

little by little
grain upon grain

and then complete,
driftwood beacon atop.

tide threatens awhile,
weakening, taunting.

her castle crumbles
and washes away
with the lowering sun.

driftwood beacon
left behind.


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Also by Kath Hewitt:

Times when you should hide your laughter | Luster lost | Sweet valentine of mine | Dreamer | Antelope canyon | i disappear |


Does anyone know owt about poetry slams going in the north west these days? 

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Also by Emma Decent:

Events | The hares |

Holding the hand of the model maker

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Today I have been holding the hand of the model maker.

With my brush I attempt to make good -

as they say.


He died soon after he finished

a wonderful re-incarnation

of our lost harbour.

He made it as light relief while working on

some effigy of violence.

That was his real job.


I like to think of him

losing himself in ...

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Also by Ann Foxglove:

museum diary | lament for a dead badger | a nonpareil | eating spring | blackbird's song | scar tissue | happy valentines day guys! | What I'd like to do today | paper mache | gazelle ghazal | wayne | loneliness | why do bananas | dove |


Unhappy Shopper



I was queuing in a shop once

When this gang o’ pricks

Started pelting abuse like bricks

Into the face of a guy whose mind

Was like that of a child

And believe me

These pricks were wild


The big fella in front of me

Just looked away

And the couple behind

Had nothing to say

So I thought – hang on...

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Also by mike watts:

....and some you lose! | Corky | The decline of the fishing industry. | A Keepsake |

a shallow view

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in another life

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Too blue in my head,

In another life

I could have loved you

But this life

Has us both hard beaten.


We have closed  too many doors

so this woman

Will quietly  steal your words

and run away

hold them tight, and close .


Knowing  they will hold the answer

In another life.






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Sparrows vs Cows

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Sparrows are not noted,

For killing cows you know,

Anywhere there are sparrows,

A cow is safe to go.


(c) Ledger de la Bald

(Painting (c) Karen de la Bald)

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Deny the Lie, Only on Your Own Request

                                     Deny the Lie, Only on Your Own Request



            There can be no mitigation for The Earth,

And though I venture not all upon these soils

Court the forms of battle,

Power from abusers – corrupts every bludgeoned heart.



            We have a planet!

It needs a cordon to protect a universe of stars,

And when...

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Also by Noetic-fret!:

In Truth | Beneath The Ancients Glare | While You Were Drowning |


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When I hear someone say:

Oh! You look so nice today!

I answer without any delay:

I would look much better

If I wore another sweater.

Or something like that:

Oh, dear! Don’t tell me lies!

Look at my eyes!

I would look much better

If I was not ill.


Let’s have a bet!

Let’s make some offset!

When I feel better

And really look ...

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Also by Larisa Rzhepishevska:

I love you like.... | Dreams | Happy Valentine Day! | Rzhepicks | I Love You, I Love You Not | I Love You Not | My Guitar |

Thankyou, Amanda Platell


This poem is written in dedication to this beautifully stupid article here: Fashion’s Ultimate Insult to Women, by Amanda Platell 

Ladies! Remember how we’re all repressed?
And we cower in the mirror as we get undressed?
And we heave regret on our neglectful mothers
When we see one boob is bigger than the other? And when they didn’t stock YOUR size at New Look -
Didn’t it feel like Joa...

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Also by Sophie Hall:

Sonnet Scott-Lee | ILU2 | I'd Do That for Love |

comedyDaily MailSatire

Fish Market Remembered (Duo).





cold is the wintry air that

straggles breath in which the

poorest freeze to death

vagrants shivering rasping

chests stigmatised despised

and loudly cursed


i see one in the market street

clad in rags from head to feet

shuffling to the boxwood fire

to warm his body and attire

soaking up the welc...

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Also by Philipos:

Sanctity of Space. | MATAPOS. | US. | Bryopsida. | Vespers. | Urban Fox. | P.O.W. | Jacarandas in Joburg. | NIGHT WALK. | Down to Earth. | Kismet. | Frog-Monologue. | Tales of the Undejected. | Trio. | Moods. | Threesome. | Perambulations (A Trilogy). | Saints Above. |



in the crepuscular wash of sodden November

ambiguous buildings in damp lethargy

lean over militant shoulders

umbrella bonneted

cast eyes glare pavement blinded

pragmatic heels bark through pools

dogged determination

crammed trams and insular buses

wheels hissing


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Also by Cynthia Buell Thomas:

Poetry | the Ultimate Vole | The Dream-footer |


Rovering Away

Locked in the van,

all on my own,

in a small cell,

without a phone.


Looking out of the square window,

counting rambling Rovers.

Three hours of highs and lows,

from Campbeltown to Dover.


Could not read a book,

listening to Read Radio.

It was too hot to cook,

arriving at the prison rodeo.


Over Erskine Bridge,

outside Greenock p...

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Also by Jules Clare:

The Staff Room | Time Goes By | Delicious | Angels | A Good Heart | A Moment In Time | Pleading | Holding Hands | A Few Stolen Moments | Subject Access | Criminal Depravity | Save The Best Until Last | It is not Unusual | Feelings | Woman In Love | Prison is my Home | Fare | The TV Room | The End of an Era | A Moment in Time | Please Do Not Leave me | Stay With Me | The Power of Love | Girlfriends In Comas | Valentine | Depression | Jules's New Book | Victoria Gig 20.2.2011 | High Hopes | Celebration | Double It | Everything Has Gone Green | Everything Has Gone Green | Everything Has Gone Green | Everything Has Gone Green | Everything Has Gone Green | Everything Has Gone Green | Everything Has Gone Green | Everything Has Gone Green | Everything Has Gone Green | Ring My Bell | Name And Shame | Name And Shame | Young One | Graham Is God | Bring Joy To Life | I Want What's Good For Me | Rose of India | The End | Clean Slate | Southern Pride | No Deal | Bliss | Reverence | Jules and Victoria | The Sign | Everything Has Changed | Things I Remember | Lost | You | Dignity | A Homoly | Bob | A Heart of Gold | Is It You? | Third Time Lucky | An Obscure Dream | Policing My Soul | Shining On | Silence | Half Time Leavers | For The Bairns | So Strong | Nothing Compares To You | You Are My Light | Keep On Moving | John's Lament | The Next Day | Jules Gigs for the third time this week | Guilty |


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 Over and over and over again

Over and over and over again
Thoughts of you  
Send shivers through the core of me
I want to wrap myself around you 
Dance and twirl 
To the music in my heart
Over and over and over again
Hot tears cascade
I repeat your name 
The familiar mantra
Filling my head
Killing me slowly
Over and over and over again

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Lie back and enjoy

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Is there anything like a bath?

This wonderful, warm womb

in which the weary wash away what irks them

to the sound of small grunts of cosseted pleasure.


A throne!

A tub of splendour,

in which aching limbs can luxuriate

and from which tired minds may survey the world.


I'm not choosy,

don't need a jacuzzi.

Just soap and bubbles

to forget my...

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Also by Dave Bradley:

Stupid crows | Beyond the Garden #6 | Beyond the Garden #5 | Beyond the Garden #4 |

How To Make Yourself Crackers

Find a dish

Add sauce

Slither and slide in sauce

for about 5 years

stirring only

when absolutely necessary


Wonder whether you need children

Worry that you haven't any children

Add 4 children




Wonder if 4 children are enough

Add 2 more children




Flavour generously

with cats, dogs, rats, hamsters,


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How high 
till we reach heaven?
Surpassing the stars
We remain;
Only as memories upon
 barren minds
Marks us as wisps
Silhouetting the clouds
Illuminated by moonbeams
suns shining, experiencing
Kings of the stardust
Chancellors of Wanderlust
Teleporting to the abnormal
And accepting perspectives
That we...

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Featured Slot With Bang Said the Gun

Thursday 24th February
Bang Said the Gun
The Roebuck
50 Great Dover Street
£5 on the door
8pm start 
Featuring with Ray Antrobus and Poeterry.

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Also by Alain English:

New Gig This Sunday | Gigs this Week | New Documentary Reviews | Latest Gigs | (untitled) | The Vanessa Show - Batman Live Auditions |

New poem: Workers of the World... Fragment...


The harsh beep of the alarm clock

destroys our dreams,

we force our eyes open

splitting the crust at the seams.

Rusty we stand – shaken, brave,

weak, scared,

curing the scars and bruises

for the day and night shifts,

burying a billion excuses to call in sick

our subconscious scratching at the stitches

so carefully woven

over a thousand past li...

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captain of the rantpoetryspoken wordworking

A Queer Response (audio)

Recorded live on Soundart Radio.

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A World,s Turn Away

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The velvet dusted sleeve of night

Dark and darker yet to light the moon

Bejewelled silken cuff of ocean

Whets the appetite of dream


Vivid beneath all heavens splendour

Vivid beneath satin dancing splashes


Soft agin warm earth's mantle


Skirts of bright embroidered ruby

Skirts of bright all jet and golden


Rose lace billows petticoat dawn...

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Also by Gus Jonsson:

Flowers in the Rain | Flowers in the Rain |

Poetry Explosion etc...

If you've not discovered the Poetry Explosion Newsletter of Pittsburgh now is the time. Also the Bow Wow Shop, which is the British equivalent. Just google the appropriate names and the rest is easy. Not many things in life are easy, but this is.

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Apathetic Son of a Bitch

I always wanted an extraordinary life,

and I think that I’ve

never been able to accept its

lack of meaning.


I wanted purpose and reason but

there is none.

It’s all run out, been taken,

been used up by the



It’s a con.


So I want nothing,

I am not interested either way.

I have grown bored.

I cannot heal or roll over,


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Also by David Mac:

Sadness Structure | All The Days Scream | Write or Die | All Luck Runs Out, Some Does Not | Time and Happiness | That is all | Take it or leave it | To my Girl |

Modern Love by Max Wallis

This year I have a pamphlet of poetry coming out with the award winning press, Flipped Eye.  It's endorsed by the T. S. Elliot prizewinner, George Szirtes.

If you would like to sign up to receive more information about the pamphlet please visit this link: http://eepurl.com/cIqjw.

Max Wallis

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Fed and Mavis On Their Travels

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There’s a tropical isle, Gran Canaria,

Famed for sun, sea and sand –

Mavis and Fred flew over,

To escape Lancashire’s cold winter land.

Mavis said, “Eee, ‘tis hot in these woolly tights,

Let’s find summer shorts that flatter me bum

Throw away beiges and blacks,

Colour up, like the sky and the sun!”

She returned like a red hibiscus

(And that were only her face...

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Also by jane wilcock:

Solar Energy |


Latest Mental Health Poem: In Therapy

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In Therapy


There ain’t no guessing why it’s in Harpurhey

Where all the Mams who drag prams are on ESA

And depression clings to all the buildings

And they’re Manchester’s biggest exporter

Where suicidal thoughts seep between the bricks and mortar

And knives on skin is just one of those daily things

And they eat cold paranoia for dinner

That’s where I d...

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Also by Gemma Lees:

Bury Market |

Catweazle Kilburn – a review

What a honky-tonking, stonking

Poetry performing, barnstorming

Guitar-strum, maelstrom,

Meek and haughty

cello and piano-their-forte

All-singing, all-words-dancing,

Dynamic, eclectic, electric

Night it was at Kilburn’s Catweazle

When I visited.

No causal link, nor said in drink

I just think

It was.


North London Tavern,

comes alive, this ...

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Also by Julian Jordon:

Review: Wondermentalist Cabaret, Radio |

Walking Home

If you want someone to
walk you home late at night
I would happily do it
But I do think to might
Want to consider another
if you’re scared of trouble
as when it comes to self defence
I think I might struggle
But with running away screaming
My instinctive reaction
You could count on me
for the perfect distraction
Though not likely get you
Home safe, free of harm

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Flicker dripping wick

gently basking in amber:

solidified wisp.


Haiku by Petrova and Elaine

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Time; unchanging as the savannah

antelopes, brings morning. My slept eye

folds your blanketed form into memory,

the soft hiss of breathing

in the still dark room a melancholy music

too soon to fade as light invades this nest.

Swift sunlight steals shadows

that velvet your face and eyes flutter

chest rhythm falters, changes, stretches.

Observing your rising fr...

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Also by Petrova C Fairhurst:

Waking Whispers | Title revision in progress! |


Is that why (a poem by a shy friend; please be gentle)


Is that why?


I bled

for so many years with the pain reminiscent of childbirth

and cried with longing and loss

the empty hollow and the useless womb

Is that why


I ached

and found each day weighed heavier than the last

and my body dried and drained

and my world shrank to a parody

Is that why


I killed

Tiny webbed fingers a hea...

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Also by Mark Mr T Thompson:

Verbal minimalism, (effectiveness = meaning - verbosity) |


Audenshaw by bus

He had it coming don't you know?

He deserved everything he got.

The bastard shouldn't have done it;

all the way into town I'd had to go.

She'd gone on and on and made a fuss;

to shut her up I got on the bus,

i even took a shopping list;

her sister's coming with the kids.

Just get some of those fancy cakes,

the ones with icing and a cherry on top,

with cre...

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Also by Alison Smiles:

Hand and glove | Weight Management |


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i call her freedom.....because the feeling im receiving is healing,

i feel her beaming a brightness, so rightious,

and when im fightless, shes the force that lifts this flightless, frightened, fighter,

and the chains aint tight enough for libertys lips,

emancipated by her infinite kiss,

its an intimate twist of fate,

i was a prisoner of war behind barbed wire gates,


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Railway Robbery That Never Was

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Once there was a hapless thief

Who didn’t have a clue.

He heard that Gants Hill station safe

Would be the one to do.

For a start he got the station wrong,

He turned up at Grange Hill,

A quiet little station,

Their takings virtually nil.

He arrived with enough explosives

To blow up half the street,

Never mind about just the safe,

His maker he...

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Also by Lynn Dye:

Image of Colours |

The Silent Lake

The Silent Lake


Dark, brown, murky waters
Disguised by the attractive
Waterlilies, pond weeds.
Surrounded by lush grass
And spring flowers.

Beneath the tranquil surface
Lies a sickening past
Of a life, an infant
Stolen from the arms
Of a naive guardian.

Drowned in old fashioned ways
A sin worse than death
Disposed of like an old toy
Ignoring the throaty s...

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Also by MissLucy:

Guards |

Perfect Place

I don’t want to wake you
When you’re sleeping so quiet
on my shoulder.

I don’t want to brush your
Hair back down from your face
or turn down the stereo.

I don’t want to sing in
the rain nor do I want
to sail away into the sunset.

I don’t want to close the curtains
and shut out the moon
Shining down on us
Like we are in the spotlight
of some imaginary film.

I want t...

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love poem

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