Poetry Blogs (Oct 2012)
They must be regarded
as the first apple picker and taster.
Had they not been and gone and done so
we might not have had to sadly write the sign-
"here live monsters"
Wednesday 31st October 2012 11:09 pm
a poet warns
speaks of things to come
or ought to be
in perfect worlds
in a perfect world
who needs the words
of oracles or seers
or out and out opinionists
our transient world
our imperfect ways
our grain of dust in space
an outcome that is blurred
Wednesday 31st October 2012 8:06 pm
Also by Philipos:OVERLORDS. | THE PIT STOP. | TWO FOR ONE. | THE NAKED TRUTH. | SOUNDS OF THE WILDERNESS. | HARMONY. | WISPS. | HOW DOWN AT THE HYATT? | BARBS. | FLOWERS FOR MELISSA. |
Halloween is here tonight, and all will seek to brave a fright,
as people come and people go, wherever pumpkins are on show...
The sweets are rattling in the tin, what flavours are to be had within,
and who has worn the scariest mask, as midnight comes that's what we ask…
Back home the children all wear smiles, their feet aglow from walking miles,
and as they drink some heated milk, i...
Wednesday 31st October 2012 7:28 pm
I’ve read most of the
From such and such to
So and so,
Some have left me
Burning with admiration,
When I’ve been
At my lowest,
And I’m grateful to them
Today there are lots
Who call themselves
It’s a grand title,
And many are happy
To claim it,
But there ...
Wednesday 31st October 2012 4:52 pm
Also by mike watts:Cheers! | Burlesque |
At the vets
On the way uncle’s jokes pester our silence
like flies on a wound .
Parking I observe a woman with wag appearance leading
her perky little terrier towards the surgery doors
as if showing it at ‘Crufts’.
We tenderly assist our elderly Airedale off the back seat.
In the waiting room, the woman’s slender body has caught me out,
her pretty fa...
Wednesday 31st October 2012 11:39 am
What are we to do
about spectres in the mirror?
Pray tell, before they rise -
of film noir and poetry,
dark or brooding -
blaring piano forte
Whip out the shammy & Windex;
Please make your response or comment on my profile pa...
Wednesday 31st October 2012 11:06 am
I’m not a mourner, not even a friend
Just a friend of a friend, been asked to attend
I never knew my friend’s late friend
So it seems kind of strange that I should be here at his end
I feel out of place, not being a friend
And the tears of his loved ones mean nothing to me
I should be moved by all this emotion
But I’m starting to think: should I hav...
Wednesday 31st October 2012 8:59 am
Also by Steve:My Dying Day | Dancing | A Schoolboy From Nineteen sixty-eight |
We both dug up old memories in between watery eye contacts over raised tea cups.
Memories I have used for when I am held in staring through the window at windblown leaves or rainfall....
Tuesday 30th October 2012 7:48 pm
clown with face of a puppet
puppet with the face of a clown
Tuesday 30th October 2012 1:52 pm
Also by mark littler:meditations on the tor of Ness |
I feel safe here
It is the bluebell wood I ran through
With my father.
The boy at school
Who passed me a note beneath the
I am happy here.
It is the fresh posy of fuschias
I take to grandad’s house.
It is my father.
It is the journey to the graveyard
To visit his parents.
Monday 29th October 2012 9:49 pm
Also by Mikhail Smith:the middle dot indicated part of a complete thought | “Darling! Are you in the bath?” | .. extract from my first morning ... | Small Picture depicting a Hydrographic Draughtsman 5” x 3”. | School Music Class with their Violins. |
I told you,
I warned you,
I gave the bearings of my soul,
Now it’s come to pass,
Everyone is caught within
The reckonings of the gods,
Not one is safe,
Not one soul who stays
Complicit in corruption,
You’ll recognise the loss.
Music and words by Mike Robinson
Monday 29th October 2012 9:00 pm
Also by Noetic-fret!:Utility of War; 360 Degrees of Conflict | Why This Life | Angel Fire | Romero Plays for Keeps |
Five years of bleeding Latin
Not even five minutes
on avoiding bleeding gums.
Nothing on plaque or bacteria attack,
Just dominus, domine, dominum.
Or amo, amas, amat.
A language in which you can't chat.
Nothing about drilling or filling.
I am not a polyphyodont
I needed info dental.
Latin drove me mental.
Trying to be like public schools
Monday 29th October 2012 4:56 pm
Also by Dave Bradley:How can a blind person use the NHS bowel cancer screening kit? | Days | Grey Ford Transits |
My latest entry was inspired by a debate I had with some friends recently.The basic principle of this was the theory that you would be happier uneducated than if you knew everything. The theory that Ignorance is bliss.
So enjoy the poem and if you would like to comment your thoughts on the subject then please do.
To Unknow is to dream
Knowledge is p...
Monday 29th October 2012 12:54 pm
Also by Matt Tilke:Sands |
I went one last time into Venice,
I rode there on mystical dreams,
By the deepest lagoon of my aging,
I was ripping my life at its seams.
It’s not now that things really matter,
What matter I’ll see this no more,
What matter one last crimson sunset,
What matter this hard bolted door.
I looked without envy or malice,
I held n...
Monday 29th October 2012 12:19 pm
Men with brilliant minds fought a war in the ether, fighting an invisible war.
Using maths to crack enemy codes of unbelievable complexity.
Making sure they were never found out.
Enigma and Lorenz were cracked by pure brain power.
Mathematics being the power of intelligence, enemy codes saying everything.
Hidden no more.
Lists of army units and air for...
Sunday 28th October 2012 9:13 pm
Also by NICK ARMBRISTER:ACRONYM | We out of my Berlin Tokyo War Hearts book | Berlin Tokyo Warhearts book... | TUNNEL | YEARS GO BY | TELEPHONE SURREALITY | AUTUMN SKYSCAPE | Road to Damascus |
The truth is both of us
we come one,
two energies brought together as a positive force.
I bend the realistic to be close to you,
spending days love sick
holding out my hands
& sprouting wings to fly toward your highest limits.
our energy never dies with us.
Under A Pale Moon
It's the nights that are the worst
when all that exiles me from these s...
Sunday 28th October 2012 7:17 pm
Also by Memoir.:Underneath My Midnight. | City.of.Snakes |
Sunday 28th October 2012 11:37 am
Read all about it.Read all about it,Shipman is dead,
Like deadly diamorphine through his victims ,the news quickly spread.
Tying a bed sheet to a bar in his prison cell,
Hanged himself,cheating his sentence,no more to tell.
Trusted by his patients mainly old and needy,
What made him do it?Was he "death" greedy?
A glutton for killing, enjoying the power,
Sunday 28th October 2012 10:17 am
Also by hugh:Con seeded !! | "Bryan "and the lioness | Margaret Thatcher | In the classroom | Clever Heather | Prednisolone---It works for me. | Wayne's pain | Female brains !!! | Car Trouble ! | The hooker !! | A knife changing experience | Reduce the vat !!! | In the classroom | Life in the slow lane | Pandemonium in the playground | Fred's dilemma | Declan the miser | 4-letter words ! | Deed of the day! | Tentless !! | Bronislow Kowalski | Zulu the zebra |
grounded by grey rock
papoosed tight in your arms
an altar before the Atlantic
commanding, tumulus ocean
serves as our priest
brought from sandy shelter
where we consummated our love
gives us two rings to keep
fraught, fragile commitment
regardless of reality
echoed by breaking wave
“Just you and me against the world...
Sunday 28th October 2012 9:35 am
Also by Katy Megan Hughes:The Cottage | Crossing | Reality Check |
Though the October 2012 issue of Lastbench was out a month early, the post has delayed for any justifiable reason. But the policy remains same, please do drop your address on our website www.lastbench.org for complimentary copy and the existing mailing list is being taken care of.
Sunday 28th October 2012 12:39 am
Can a man sing
And not be a singer?
Can a man run
And not be a runner?
Can a man steal
And not be a thief?
Can a man kill
And not be a killer?
Saturday 27th October 2012 6:47 pm
Also by John Coopey:Cat Nap | Karma | Facebook | Men - A Haikupi |
Like a fish out of water, that analogy.
Why does it sometimes always apply to me
When I try to say that simple phrase today?
Why do I always feel that you won't believe me
When you know my feelings, and there's no deceit
You say "I know you do", if my words make it through.
Sometimes it seems a little bit easier now,
But I still can't say it anyhow...
Saturday 27th October 2012 2:27 pm
And I wonder how a woman
prepares a child for war
packs pants, rolls socks
fills a kit bag full enough…
waves from a platform
to one face within a sea
feeds every fading feature
for you would be the first to fall
lumbering to no-man’s land
too hard on heel
to feel the shift in sand
the whispering shell
that final wake-up ...
Saturday 27th October 2012 12:11 am
Whatever you do don’t think about trees.
But if you do happen to think about trees
Think about elephants-
Tiny elephants in a photo mosaic
Which when you stand back
Looks like a tree.
But don’t think about trees.
Friday 26th October 2012 4:12 pm
Also by Cathy Crabb:Corridor- the urban desert | Things Are Ticking Over Nicely- a country song I have written for Bush Pig |
Autumns rich mellow flavoured air
Unmasked, the trees are now bare.
Seldom do we hear the birds sing
When the Autumn leaves are falling.
Smoke trails from the burning leaves
Carried on the light cool breeze.
The scent of spiced apple days
In the suns golden haze.
The Pine towering heavenly high
Dropping fragrances on passers by.
Thursday 25th October 2012 7:10 pm
Little old lady sternly stands,
Son and daughter lending hands;
So many memories, so much done,
Battles lost and battles won.
An English girl from a country town
Who rose to power beneath the Crown.
For - or against - there's few to match her,
Happy Birthday, Lady Thatcher!
Carp if you must but try to be witty,
Whining's depressing - and so is self-p...
Thursday 25th October 2012 4:37 pm
Also by M.C. Newberry:GET HAPPY! | I PROTEST!! | DEAD RECKONING | WALTZING MATILDA or A BOLD FUSILIER? | WHERE IS THE THANKS? | SETTLING ACCOUNTS |
The Book review + music
Tongue in cheek version!
Thursday 25th October 2012 3:37 pm
This is a picture I did not take of a thin wooden door inside a block of flats. It’s slightly ajar, and a red poster of Martin Luther King’s ‘I have a dream…’ speech is visible in the sliver of light. Beneath the poster, a glass table with a sealed packet of needle ends, box of tobacco and a jar of brownish liquid on top translucifies the lower half of a young blonde haired man who cowers...
Thursday 25th October 2012 2:15 pm
Also by Joy Claypool:Consequences of your actions, kid. |
Thursday 25th October 2012 11:22 am
Also by Marianne Daniels:Sick Day | Hands | Tree | Cling | Girl |
(Came to Ancoats)
Did they come like locust?
Arriving as a plague, did they try other lands?
Seeking out some shade.
Did they travel over land by sea on horse then train?
Wear out their boots with walking
Across countries left behind,
Until they found this Ancoats, where they settled down.
Did this Ancoats offe...
Wednesday 24th October 2012 10:42 pm
Also by Carmine Grimshaw:Three Wise Monkey’s | (Benito Mussolini) |
I’m driving my fridge , it’s a terrible green
There are icicles where the heater had been
There’s a snowdrift , and glacier , all round my feet
And ice in the boot
Where I keep the raw meat .
I’m driving and driving far down the road
I can’t see a thing the window so froze and
I can’t see a thing my breath chill...
Wednesday 24th October 2012 9:24 pm
We reel ‘em in with Ritalin,
(Big Pharma pockets the profit)
Viagra and the Vitamin –
it gets so hard to come off it.
Increasing dependency doses,
the playground exchange of bright sweets;
damned by a dual diagnosis,
the endless prescription repeats.
To manage stress a bullet-proof vest
is obligatory in these quarters:
the weight you can’t get...
Wednesday 24th October 2012 4:12 pm
Also by Ray Miller:Backward | Betting on a Photo | Donkey Jacket | The Dark Ages | Black Market |
Waking up this morning
Almost middle of the night
Waiting for the birdsong
Or alarm clock to put me right
Stressful head upon the bed
Pillow jumped to the carpet sea
Thoughts of panic and despair
Get dragged out of memory
Latent fear in the troubled gut
Sings inharmoniously loud
For what is my pain of fear?
Rises single notion from t...
Wednesday 24th October 2012 8:54 am
Also by Sean:Simply to Arrive | Cabin Fever |
Racing towards raging tides With no fear of death inside Raging against a pacing mind As predicaments perpertrate prophetic signs Emersed in emerging truths Diserning proof that the path is littered with Inverted roots The worth of my youth lurks on boots Of deserting troops of god. As they stamp down the meaning upon my skull with a burning rod. Attempts upon my soul but redempti...
Tuesday 23rd October 2012 7:44 pm
painting: Janice Lee Porter
photo credit: Bill Cottman
He Likes His Point Of View
Adamas is known to be oppositional and augmentative
Agreeing with other points of view
Seem bland when there’s no definitive position
And perspective shifts like tsunami sands
Astigmatized visions rule this world and
Every tale of triumph with disgrace and in...
Tuesday 23rd October 2012 1:29 am
Also by J. Otis Powell‽ (with interrobang):Without Regard | Tongue Swallow |
The moonlight shadow
unfolds across your furrowed brow
while you contemplate your face
in the mill pond glaze.
You cast your line and wait.
An owl calls, interrupting your nostalgia
and stalling your train of thought
that chugs by all too often in your twilight years.
The rain falls,
rippling your face in the pond
as a vole scampers by your f...
Monday 22nd October 2012 7:28 pm
Also by Mike Hilton:K.I.S.S. |
Great poetry and acoustic music
This Tuesday - 23rd October- doors open 8pm
22a Liscard Crescent
Wallasey- The Wirral
CH44 1AE (a stones throw over the Mersey from Liverpool)
Check us out in the gig guide...
Our Guest Poet
Originally from River Hill in rural west Kent, David Bateman came to Live...
Saturday 20th October 2012 9:43 pm
Also by Chris Co:Wirral Ode Show Open Mic October- plus poetry filming. |
Food for thought and acres of dung;
Daughters are a blessing, especially when they go.
Please may I be excused?
A local beach climate of sun
And artificial bodies looking tasty and hot.
Footsteps in the sand
Lead me to your sunken treasure;
Discontent rumbles like an empty belly.
I watch you twiddle your fingers.
Saturday 20th October 2012 1:57 pm
Also by Stockport WoL:Youth and Age (September 2012 Collage Poem) | The Shadows (August 2012 Collage Poem) | Shakespeare's Aunties (July 2012 Stockport WoL Collage Poem) | Little Sound (June 2012 Stockport WoL Cheddar-Poem) | Giving (May 2012 Stockport WoL Collage Poem) | Space (April 2012 Stockport WoL Collage Poem) | February 2012 Stockport WoL Collage Poem | January 2012 Write Out Loud Collage Poem | December 2011 - Stockport WoL Collage Poem (II) | December 2011 - Stockport WoL Collage Poem | November 2011 - Collage Poem Created by Stockport WoL (II) | November 2011 - Collage Poem Created by Stockport WOL |
Thanks for taking the time to read and comment folks, appreciate it :)
Friday 19th October 2012 11:59 am
Also by Laura Taylor:Birdsong | Brand New Lexicon |
Bury my bones in the garden.
I know it's hard on you.
Plant me like a flower.
Beneath the cloudy blue.
My soul will never stray too far
away from this, our spot.
So please don't make my spirit wander
round a graveyard plot.
It would be hypocritical,
for me to be laid there.
Among the passed on parish,
eternity to share.
Plant trees above my empty ...
Friday 19th October 2012 11:22 am
Also by Graham Eccles:First Heartbeat | White Shadows |
ME AND MY NANA
Me and my Nana
Go to the park
And make daisy chains
- When it’s spring
Me and my Nana
Run very fast and jump up
And try to catch
The sunbeams from the sky
- When it’s summer
Me and my Nana
Walk down our lane
Add kick up all the golden leaves
- When it’s autumn
Wednesday 17th October 2012 5:20 pm
Also by Dorinda MacDowell:Another Nail in Culture's Coffin |
In a creepy old house I
found a creepy old doll.
I bent to pick it up
and boy did I have a fall.
I stood up had a lump
on my head, but
I looked out the window,
day had turned to night.
I looked and looked but
did not find the doll.
I turned to leave and there
it was hanging by it's ne...
Wednesday 17th October 2012 4:47 pm
Also by Shirley Smothers:The Old Broken Doll |
One for all,
all for nothing.
Sweet winter cools the dry
of summer nights and splintered
dreams that shadow
endless preying hours.
the poor man's weed,
a fortress of leisure
til wake forsakes you.
Outside the shattered leaves fall silent.
Wet glass batters petal echoes.
What is the world?
Wednesday 17th October 2012 11:42 am
Also by Kealan Coady:Foreign Island Dream | Rain and Mind | Summer Darkness |
Flakes of snow land in my hair. Nesting like the foam on yesterday’s cappuccino.
Cold air breathes around me. Steal scissors slicing my face without a wound to show.
Crunching heels, but only two, walk back home from another day’s day dreaming.
Dark nights loom and while I sit in the warming glow, frost still surrounds me.
Doorbell rings, I still sit in silence. Phone ring...
Wednesday 17th October 2012 11:29 am
Wednesday 17th October 2012 10:48 am
Also by Anthony Emmerson:Another . . . | myspace |
I'm studying Creative Writing in university, and my first poetry lectures were all about trying to define what poetry is. Personally I found this a bit unnecessary; I've never felt the need to put the entire art of poetry in a box, draw a diagram of it and give a lab report on its composition - it's one of those things you just feel, right? However, in class we were asked to write an Ars Poetic...
Wednesday 17th October 2012 10:26 am
Their eyes begin to close for they are used
to too many winters.
When the seasons change too quickly there's
a whole new reason for remaining tight.
They shut themselves completely to preserve
the energy within them
and when spring comes they are splintered
by the light.
Dancing and redeeming their frosty borders
they come out
to greet and meet and know and ...
Tuesday 16th October 2012 9:53 pm
S N E E Z Y I S M I S S I N G : a Difficult Day for the Snow White Gang. - (Definitely best heard rather than seen, as it works best with a pause for each development; but there is a reason for showing it here, as explained after the poem).
Well I woke up this morning
And thought "I'm feeling happy,"
But he really was grumpy
And I was still . . . s l e e p y.
We both felt bashful
Thinking he might be dopey :
That's how we ended
Up in the dock.
But Sneezy is missing
Yes Sneezy is missing
Oh Sneezy is missing
What Snow White is kissing -
Tuesday 16th October 2012 6:06 pm
I bought a big tub of tiramisu,
Checked for information as you do.
Read advice on lid
Underneath was hid
So I turned it over for further clue.
“Do not turn upside down,” the words read.
“Why, how wonderful!” I promptly said.
Let me do if first
Then tell me the worst,
Do they prefer perverse fun instead?
Tuesday 16th October 2012 4:59 pm
Also by Lynn Dye:fishy tale | devon | Reality |
Hello my names Doreen
Doreen the physiotherapist
I thought I'd like her
She smiled stating that
Together we'd get this finger straight
Our eyes locked in and we searched deep,
She into the soul of my endurance
And me into her world of ,sadistic pleasure.
You see, I knew,
Overheard didn't I,
As I sat in the waiting room,
A middle aged man rushed out
In tears, dis...
Tuesday 16th October 2012 1:22 pm