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1AM, It's a New Year

Another year about to end. Maybe the Mayans that made up that calendar had it better. As the year closes one is pressed to look back and gauge how it went. It's just another year, perhaps. Many things have transpired, and many more in the offing.

 

1AM, It's a New Year

Just a few hours more
about half a day for the rest
for each timezone on the globe
we tear off the last she...

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carpe-diemtodayfuturenew-yearcrypticbardgalateuscarpe-annumkesner

Leviathan

oh leviathan

dashed bereft under hanging skies
that mirror your sagging pall


I stand, Ishmael, to your bloody demise

amidst the niveous fulminating
and hovering nebs

where Neptune  saw fit to serve your hulkfor its absolute picking

by those which need and others that greed
with no affect to your fabled past

your jaw,mute in life,thunders now in death
of the...

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Also by Paul Sands:

Hole | Curioser and Curioser | What Angels? |

Stockport Council; Museums & Cultural Attractions Consultation‏

Looks like we are still in with a shout:

 

Dear Colleague

You may be aware that Stockport Council recently carried out consultation with  customers and other stakeholders on Museums & Cultural Attractions in Stockport with a view to achieving budget savings of £188,000 over the next two years.  We are grateful to all those who took the time to take part in this exercise.  The origin...

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Also by Stockport WoL:

Victory at Christmas - (December 2012 Collage Poem) |

Museums

A NEW YEAR ???

A New Year ?

 

I cannot sing the lords song,

Not now in this strange land,

Where laws are just for changing,

And traditions cannot stand.

 

I grew with certain values,

Those values now so changed,

The sacred brought to nothingness,

Our morals rearranged.

 

We spare the rod incessantly,

We give the feckless space,

We can’t promote religion,

...

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Also by Ian Gant:

DECEMBER MUSINGS |

Dragging the luggage

rewrite


Dragging the luggage Monday 31st December 2012 1:40 am (first posted Tuesday 25th December 2012 2:51 am)

I smoke and watch her

pack.

The taxi waits.

Then like a premonition

I have a mirrored memory

of her departure-

the scent of her 

washed skin-

remembering the

...

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Also by Tommy Carroll:

Dragging the luggage | Cooking for the Infidel | Cooking for the Infidel | I, myself Tommy that's me |

Trading Bullets for Lives in Acts of Freedoms

I wrote this piece - inspired by Andrew Fusek Peters words.

 

 

Trading Bullets for Lives in Acts of Freedoms

 

 

Have you ever held a rifle with a full magazine?

Have you ever felt the weight of just one round

In the hand;- your hands?

Have you ever listened after a fire-fight –

Where null and avoidance is returned in hate?

A claiming of valiant crus...

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Also by Noetic-fret!:

Daily States of Pain | Sitrep dnb stylee | The Meaning of Life | Where The Solo's Play Together | One Fine Gentleman | I would go somewhere with this but I lost me free bus pass! | Esoteric Understandings | HYPNOSIS |

gun laws USA

Getting bigger.

Even the closest speak , I asked her to be quiet. Others make me cringe. My theory was honest. I think eventually it's is one. Woof woof.

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The Gun - a response to events in the US

 

I wrote this piece after the events at Newtown and crazy reaction from those deluded enough to think that more guns equals safer country. They have 300 million guns and one of the highest murder rates in the world. As a poet, as an American who is also british, as a father, I wrote this response.

 

HOW MANY MORE?

 

Where can I start, but the young ones, their hearts

Ar...

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gunsamericapolitical poetryperformance poetrysecond amendment

the Clock

It clots the room with its tutting tongue, my flesh underneath; sectioned up like butchers meat. Each second is pronounced; lines drown upon my brow and grease  fevered cheeks, the veins gathering speed where my fists grip the looseness of words that gutter-fit from night and sense. The cut of day, beamed as sharp as knives; draws flecks of dust, years of skin  as if by moving into this continu...

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Also by Marianne Daniels:

Music |

Fairytale

 

He’d built a life’s path brick by brick

Held together by sand and stick

 

It rivalled her wall of crumbling stone

They stood together completely alone

 

She felt she knew him all of his life

But couldn’t understand the edge of the knife

 

Sharpened by resistance, ready to slice

the red thread between them, not once but twice

 

Once in dreams...

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Also by Katy Megan:

Gentleman Caller | The Comfort of Strangers at Hatton Locks Car Park | Reflection | Banished to Eden |

love

The leftovers

I took the family out for a meal on Christmas day,

There were quite a few and I had to pay !

All five courses were first class,

All the leftovers I frugally did amass.

"Waiter please may I have a bag  to take the leftovers home for my pet ?"

"Ooo!"blurted out my daughter,"What sort are we going to get ?"

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Also by hugh:

A flight mistake | Being an only child | Weeweechu | Suite child of mine | Don't drink and drive !!! | Changing heads | An eye catching experience | 'Twas the night before Christmas | Trouble and strife | A near miss ! | Eat in ! | Tulisa Contosavlos X factor judge-----an inspiration ! | Jacintha Saldanha R.I.P. | Zip error | A fine death | Peel Park primary school Accrington-----Outstanding !! |

Maybe

Has it really been one year?

Is this what it takes to really breathe?

Well no one told me it would be that harsh..

Well maybe..

Maybe I should have asked..

 

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maybe

Haunt the Proud.

 

I have died 600 hundred times before
& through-out the pain there you where;
the heir of serenity preached, spring fourth a trinity of able souls
and although I have been shown how to sleuth, I'm told only a leader will survive;
so in the stronghold
today life,
do what you will to stay with me.


Fore I'm an elder whose boy inside has witnessed enough to haunt the proud
...

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Winter Heart

 

Winter Heart.
 
You like to see frozen trees
cloaked in crisp clung ice.
You like to tread on iron ground
sound soft in snow.
You like to see the world in white
washed by arctic winter.
 
In warm wet winter
when rain drops line the branches of trees
and hang like mirrors to the white
windowless sky. You cry 'Let there be ice!
 Drops be d...

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Ravi Shankar Died The Other Day

Earthwide rhythms, the gentle whisper

erupts in new and beautiful

usualless jewels.

 

Sounds that move mountains

and within

it contains the sun,

the rain: it breaches seasons,

 

relieves all cause and worry,

redeems all meaning.

 

Intuitive music,

selfless twists of genius.

 

Some quiet and some

with aching gales.

 

A platf...

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Also by Kealan Coady:

A Close Call Scenario |

The Final Act

 

He seemed to be a worthless bloke—a village ne'er-do-well;
Unkempt and dirty, lived his life alone.
He scrounged around for food scraps, ate the stuff unfit to sell.
A misfit there from whereabouts unknown.
 
And someone called him Jack, although they didn't really know
His history or his background from the past,
And many were annoyed and they just wanted him ...

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Also by Tom Chapman:

Abandonment | Afterwards | Christmas Time | Corporate Greed |

WarHeroismTrauma

Confessions Of A Self-Berating Splurger - A seasonal ditty

 

I know I’ve got a lot of stuff and no, I don’t need much more.

I know advertising’s full of guff and persuasion is what it’s for.

I know others needs are greater, but too often I forget

As I’m a self-berating splurger, oft wracked with deep regret.

 

No matter if you’re measuring in common, pounds or pence,

Too often it would seem that we have more money than sense.

I kno...

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consumerismguiltpoemseasonal

Lada Love

 

Lada Love

Have you ever been so in love with a machine it hurts?

I am. The reason?

Lada cars especially Riva estate cars with square spotlamps in the grill.

What a beautifully proportioned machine,

each line in the right place.

Utilitarian design and poetical looks, filling my soul with joy.

Yes I feel happiness when I see a Lada car.

It makes my day and I ...

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Also by NICK ARMBRISTER:

HUMAN SPIRIT | Trash Overhead | North Town | Again and Again | Siren Flight | Hall of Memories | Memory of water | Hot Day | HARD |

lada carsrussia vehiclecool carlovemachine

You, you

 

You, You
 
Savour true moments, and know, they are fleeting
Say “Thank you karma“, When you take a beating
 
Don’t get angry when you get burnt
 Just see it as a lesson learnt
 
Let past be passed, quickly forgive
Not eye for eye, but live let live
 
If my heart says yes, then I’ll let it be
If my hart it sinks….. Then its not for me
 
...

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Also by Ged Thompson:

Christmas Light | I believe in fairies | Brum | Ward 34 | The Seer |

forgivenesskarmahealingacceptanceself loveperspective

Why are there no spiders in the Wizard of Oz?

I would hurry to the kitchen
with pedipalps a-twitching,
to see what I could get.
And when there I would eat all
the insides of every beetle,
if I had a spinnerette.

And that's only the beginning;
it sets my head a-spinning
to see them in my net.
To the edge I would scarper
where I'd pluck it like a harper
if I had a spinnerette.

Oh, I could catch the fly
that vent...

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Also by Marnanel Thurman:

Facebook | Take a pew |

REMEMBER

                                   

 

REMEMBER

 

Each day I see your proud

stare from the carved frame

above the stairs

you wear the ostentatious

plumed hat of

the Italian Bersaglieri

and although it

was only national service

you had your share

of war later

an enemy alien

interned in the country

where you chose to settle.

 

...

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Also by David Subacchi:

HIDING IN SHADOWS |

Merry Christmas!

 

Merry Christmas to my dearest friends,

Living on different and beautiful Lands!

Merry Christmas to all – big and small!

Merry Christmas to you and you, and you!

To all those who say more often “hello” than “adieu”.

Merry Christmas to all… rich and poor

To those who are always know and sure

That tomorrow will certainly come,

That our world is blithesome and ...

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Also by Larisa Rzhepishevska:

The 22nd of December | Your need | Tango | The Trumpeter |

Christmas

I Blame The Scapegoats

 

(With a nod of debt to the incomparable John O'Farrell)

 

I blame the Government and the bankers and the rest of the fatcats and the US and the multinationals.

I don’t blame me for:

·        Wanting a sub-prime mortgage I can’t afford

·        Electing the government

·        Electing every government

·        Retiring early and drawing my pension

·        ...

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Also by John Coopey:

The Fairytale of New Britain (Lucky Man) | The Red Wheelbarrow | Veggie Stew | The Naming of the Parts | If... | In The Bleak Midwinter |

GIMME SHELTER

Hunched shoulders

hands in shallow pockets

hiding from the cold

left hand searching for an ember of warmth

in the corners of threadbare lining

fingers tingle

as he finds his last penny of comfort...

a pick for his guitar

 

His soul released

he starts to play

Hendrix style - Hey Joe

people stop, heads turn,

faces stare

as he rocks All Along the Watchtower

...

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Also by Mike Hilton:

CHRISTMAS CAROL |

THOUGHTS AT CHRISTMAS

On the eve of Christmas, I'm re-posting this short poem in the spirit of remembrance. and the wonder of life's glorious renewal.

........................................................................................................................

How fitting now in deep December,

When days are short and life is low,

That in our hearts we will remember

Those we loved who h...

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Also by M.C. Newberry:

WHEN CHRISTMAS COMES AROUND | THOUGHTS AT CHRISTMAS (2) | SPARE US |

Stood Up

 

Stood Up

 

Creeping away from bed and favourite thriller,

you must wash your hair, again,

perform yet another make-up legerdemain,

clamp yourself into iron maiden jeans.

 

At 52, you do not listen for his car’s theme tune

but start to list the weekly shop,

checking clocks you realise he is 30 minutes late,

an old wound’s twinge He has stood you up.

...

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Bugarach

I was moved to upload this because of the relevance of Bugarach to the end-of-the-world prognostications for today, 21st December, 2012.

Bugarach,

Whose rocks

burn pink

in the sunset

of a fading sky.

 

Conversation frozen

for one half-moment,

heads turned,

eyes narrowed,

hearts miss

a beat

In memory of ancestors

whose feet

signed this ...

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PARTY! (a shameless re-post!)

 

PARTY! 

“Ey up owd lad, tha does look glum!” Peter said one day, (he’d spent a while up north near Leeds, that’s why he spoke that way.)

“What’s to do?  Tha’s sittin there wi a face like milkman’s hoss. I’ve nivver seed thee look that way, whatever ails thee boss?” 

His boss looked up, all ashen faced, a pallor on his skin, and whispered “Pete, I’ve had enough, It’s ...

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Also by Anthony Emmerson:

thin ice |

Christmas Card 2012

Holly berry and mistletoe on the vine

Prompt me to render this rhyme,

Of merry greetings that come to mind

Written out line by line.

 

The short cold days are the sign

That once more its Christmas time,

So get ready with a toast of ale or wine

To celebrate Old Lang Syne.

 

Let all that’s best and good combine

As glittering stars and fairy lights shine...

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Eastern Poem.

 

Eastern peace and eastern stars awake with the clouds. Nirvana. 
Magic Mushrooms. Gods eyes. O beyond time and space, I breath breathless an awakening dream of colourless colours. Timeless the eternal ocean, I lift my eyes to the sky dawning and I float away 
with everything and nothing. 
I dreamed of love, I dreamed myself, and the world was deep. Death did not glance but gav...

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Also by Danny Metcalfe:

Night. |

Ee Love

 

EE LOVE…..

 

“Ee, love, what a sad time to meet –

You could have knocked me right off me feet

When I heard about your Stan –

Such a lovely, lovely, man…

 

He was all but in his prime –

Well, we all must go sometime –

Ee, love, now, don’t take on so:

Here’s a clean hanky: now bear up, you know

Time will heal…..Eh, your Stan –

Such a kind, lov...

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Also by Dorinda MacDowell:

Christmas Tree | New Beginnings |

Don Juan in his decrepitude

(This was an exercise in five beat blank that turned itself into a sort of poem)

 

Everything around began to change

Not, mind you, immediately – no

But soon enough – yes soon enough.

A hazing round the edges of the sight

Began it all , The keen discerning scent

Lost a little of it`s former stretch,

And soon the strong brisk spring in muscle and bone

Began to...

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The Driving Seat

He sits in the driving seat

a wired up coil of rage

ready to spring,

a vacuum of anger

to feed from what was once her joy

spitting forth his accusations

like sparks from a torch,

blowing away the laughter,

blowing away the happy,

blowing away the merry

 

and so this is Christmas.

 

‘She was late to answer her mobile,

he’s texted several ti...

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Also by Isobel:

The Sky at Night |

A Case for Cancelling Christmas

Health and safety directives may sit on the shelf

But prick our conscience, like the holly everywhere

To make us think that Christmas is bad for the health

As many dangers lurk half-hidden in its tinselled glare.

 

Might twining ivy poison tiny toddlers who will pass?

And could pine needles stab them, drawing blood?

And, since bright baubles shatter into shards of gl...

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Death on the Motorway

John was killed on the motorway today

His wife was taking the kids to school

She had waved him goodbye that morning

Death came later, without any warning

 

They had a tentative arrangement for lunch

So they’d left their options open

And later, so the reporter said on the evening news

No other words were spoken

 

A boy racer cut him up so they foolishly de...

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Also by Steve Higgins:

Letter to Santa ( From a Xmas cynic) | Sunday Afternoon |

deathmotorwaycar

Christine.



Another cold coffee one stale cigarette
She takes a slow walk to the door
The memories linger, she never forgets
But she knows she can’t stay anymore.
And the passionate dreaming that keeps her alive
Seems cloudy and distant now
She’s finding it hard day by day to survive
But she knows she will anyhow.

It’s just another road Christine
It’s just another forgotten dream
...

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Help me - help me please

The old lady shouted "Help me, please help me"

Sitting in her chair she was

wrapped in multicoloured shawl

refusing to elaborate

 

She couldn't see and couldn't hear

Refused to have her hearing help

Continued shouting "Help me help me"

"Won't somebody help me please"

 

Yet every time I tried to help her

Shouts vociferous and rude

Decrying all that...

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olddementiamotherchild

The Christmas Dinner Review

"The Christmas Dinner"
by Duncan Stevens
Staged by Second Skin Theatre
Directed by Andy McQuade
Seen by Alain English on 15th December 2012
At White Rabbit Theatre

This is certainly a unique production in London Fringe history.  Staged two weeks ago as "The Exorcism" based on a 1970s television play, it was forced to close down after legal objections.  It has since reopened in thi...

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Also by Alain English:

Paper Tiger Poetry One Year Anniversary - It's Slam Time! |

'Soul Vomit' Anthology now available

Three of my poems have been published in an anthology entitled Soul Vomit - profits to go to a domestic violence charity. The anthology can be ordered online via https://www.createspace.com/4084570 in case anyone is feeling a poetry-shaped hole in their stocking.

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Note to Self

 

 

When the hours feel

like hammers against the kneecaps

 

When every mouth that

opens looks like a steel trap

 

When the only things you’ve

got in are a block of cheese and a broken egg

 

When that kid on the

scooter rides into your leg

 

When the truth is

translucent and the lies are bold

 

When you sleep in your

coat be...

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Little Boys Know War

Little boys know war.

Little girls know love and pain,
gentle kisses in summer rain,
where they're going,
and from where they came.

Little boys know war.

Little girls know truth and fear,
a cold smile, a warm tear,
how much it cost.
to get through the year.

Little boys know war.

Little girls know how to poison, how to heal,
how to cry, how to steal,
how to ig...

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First Foot-fall

Listen for the first foot-fall:

Sunken pads in the winter snow,

The patter of ducks to bread,

Silence

As Venus hauls the sun from her bed

To drip across the sky.

 

Waiting for the first footing,

Heavy on the ice,

And Giggling across the carpet,

Feet spread like paeonies,

Embracing arms,

She learns to fly.

 

 

 

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children winter

Spoken Word Supreme in Guildford

The last Pop Up Poetry event of 2012 was  a memorable occasion, a fitting climax to the year where we have built up our audience and our expertise to bring to Guildford a platform where local poets can have a hearing and poets from  London and other centres can make their voices heard in our provincial (dare I say) locality. The evening of December 11th  at the  Bar des Arts, Guildford, was dev...

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Irene shattlePo up poetryBar des Arts GuildfordDonall DempseyRodney WoodRob AutonpoemsGreg Freeman

Updated Booking Page

Please take a moment to have a look at my updated booking page.

http://openmindcollective.com/the-openmind-collective/book-ushiku/

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BidamanSir BenjaminEl PoeticoIndigo AngelCowboy CrisafulliUshiku Crisafulli

12/12/12

I wasn't dead,

just never alive

Turner Prize

gold medal

all for a dive.

 

A dyspraxic in a speedboat

as I struggled to swim

in shark infested waters

but I won't let them win.

 

The rewards of success

for creating a mess

an unmade bed

for an economy's left.

 

People can study

and some even praise

others are starstruck

...

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Poke'monSci-fiDoctor WhoChemistryMetalsPoetryRapSpokenwordPoliticsCapitalism

My poetry is ...

 

Joy, rebellion, forgiveness

life, wisdom, love

 

Destined winged music that cooed my heart

The cry that fertilized the earth when the sun dawned

Hope, disappointment,

the pain that hurt me in some corner

 

The line of life, and also the betrayal where one day I’d wake

listening to prayers that my death will announce

 

Poor dreams of mine...

...

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Also by Noris Roberts:

What is the price you have to pay? |

Poem

Depression

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some people try

to force a

smile from me,

but it's futile.

 

Sometimes they figure

out somethings wrong,

sometimes not.

 

Some actually get

angry because I

don't just

"Snap out of it."

 

So I pretend

everything's OK.

But I'm secretly

crumbling deep inside.

 

Th...

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depressionemotional pain

Unsolicited (1968 - 2012) - on Youtube

Here's a film of my performance of 'Unsolicited (1968 - 2012)' recorded at the Cadence Cafe, for Performance! (run by the lovely Jeffarama)

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1LUvJ0IDwdg&feature=plcp

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Zona Magazine

Here is the site for Zona, the art magazine of The Spider Project in Liverpool, featuring interviews, poetry, fiction and photography from the Spider project in Liverpool and in The Wirral

 

http://zonathemagazine.wordpress.com/

 

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