Poetry Blogs (Apr 2012)
In the wanting, in the waiting, in the never that comes between
Distances rolls like waves between us
Pulling us closes and drawing us apart.
Words cramp in my mouth, my tongue thickens
If, if, if, want, want, want, need, need, need.
You cannot hear me, I cannot speak
In the head
A thousands scenes play out
Hand touching hand
Minds reach out
Monday 30th April 2012 9:54 pm
Also by kayberley:Promises, Promises | Save your energy |
Had another go at last verses
“Despite their dementia they do remember well that they have a family that is never here for them. They call their names into emptiness, and cry at the thought of abandon .” a comment from BBC website
I cried and sucked their teats. They drew a face on me
in their own image, one I never asked for,
constructed a smile and ears to...
Monday 30th April 2012 7:33 pm
Also by Nick Coleman:The Schoolmistress | Ethnic Cleansing |
This is my favorite cup,
containing my favorite tea.
I drink from it
in my favorite moments.
It fits my mouth
in my favorite way.
I feel the shape
of vowels when I sip.
The steam floats
to cleanse my pores.
This cup helps
rid me of toxins,
with hearing my words
and trials and tales.
Only my favorite cup
Monday 30th April 2012 6:11 pm
The autumn leaves an ill-defined unease
that (while the summer flourished) I’d ignored.
The litany begins. We can’t afford
the oil we need to buy before the freeze;
they’ve forecast snow: we need to fix the tiles
that blew away before the summer came,
fit plastic shrouds on every window-frame;
there isn’t any salt in stock for miles.
Yet soon I’ll wake, and March will fal...
Monday 30th April 2012 10:40 am
Also by Marnanel Thurman:On not being a cat | Blood, bones and feathers | In depths of darkness out of doors | This is the poem | A love song | Examination | Attention | On first looking into an A to Z |
That third being between us. Like a mutual shadow.
Awakes us from sleep with a gentle touch of light, a breath of reality.
Bites us, when we’re too sluggish; dances around us, when we embrace each other.
We get lost in the wilderness of its fur, like children, pugnacious, fussy and nosy…
That third, Being between us.
Sometimes like a tender cloud, surrounds us with petals of silence;
Monday 30th April 2012 10:18 am
I washed her
from my pillow-slips.
In a white plastic bucket
I soaked away her body's breath,
and with bleach removed
the evidence she had left.
We snatched the time
to make our marks
with sweat and
The stains on stolen sheets
proved easier to erase
than those she ground into
the fabric of my room,
Monday 30th April 2012 2:05 am
Also by Tommy Carroll:She lies sleeping |
Sunday 29th April 2012 10:36 pm
(Much as I am reluctant to tamper with The Master.....)
There you go and, Baby, here am I
Well, you left me here with all this fish to fry
I’ve thawed this cod and now you’ve quit your job
And you won’t batter anymore.
You bastard, Trish! So now you’ve got your wish
You left me here with all this fucking fish
There’s no flour dips so all we got is c...
Sunday 29th April 2012 9:23 pm
Also by John Coopey:Their Finest Hour | Kushagarnie 2 | Ikea | Live and Let Live | I Got Ewe Babe | Metre | Mammaries Are Made Of This | Gorgonzola | My Dad | There's Allus a Dribble That's Left |
Train spotters love trains, tracks, stations, sidings,
Steep cuttings, mortar, stony spaces.
Straining to observe the woosh and swoosh,
Chatter and clatter of carriage and truck
And engine names.
Buddleias spring from bridge and brick,
Colouring impossible places,
Stattoes of the railway network:
“The nine-forty to Liverpool is late,
Leaves on the line....
Sunday 29th April 2012 6:19 pm
Also by jane wilcock:Insane Poppy |
What is love?
Fills the emptiness
Breaks the wave
Turns the head
Twists the fate
Destroys the expected
Shapes the form
Spoils the beauty
A silent call
Rouses the sleeping
Leadens the heart
Haunts my spirit
When we are apart
© Katy Hughes 2012
Sunday 29th April 2012 2:30 pm
Also by Katy Megan Hughes:The Oak Tree | Secret | Hatton Locks | The ending that started the beginning... |
You live your life, you take the blows,
Its deepest wound the blackened bruise
Where sometime roads would trail desire,
And lead down ways we would not choose.
God knows I’ve sought the sheltered glade,
Where summer breezes always blow,
But oft I walked the rock strewn path,
And found that place we should not go.
I find with age some restful cal...
Sunday 29th April 2012 8:52 am
Also by Ian Gant:CARRION SPRING |
A whisker on the window sill
Means feline’s been around.
She didn’t leave her pawprints,
She never made a sound.
But I know that she’s been there,
The evidence there still:
A little, wispy filament
Upon the window sill.
Sunday 29th April 2012 1:00 am
Also by Yvonne Brunton:Cecil the Saint | WOL Prize Received | The Newberry Dye-Pass Crossing AKA The Rules Of The Road. | A Cup | Spring in the High Peak | Kushagarnie | (untitled) | inFLUence |
The most difficult part of moving back to
the area where you grew up are
the people you bump into
who you haven’t seen for years.
Mainly, it’s people who attended
school with you, but occasionally
it’s a family member or an ex, and
they’re the ones that stagger you.
After saying a flustered
hello, the first and most obvious
Sunday 29th April 2012 12:31 am
Natalie. Natalie and Nick
I forgive you Ruth for hurting me. Now I must move on and go far away from you. I’m getting married to my warrior friend. Please don’t be mad with me. I think you’d approve and like Natalie. She loves gothic music and even has a band called Mayo, never mind her tattoos and love of flying. Like you, she speaks to me in my dreams. Unlike you, she won’t ever hur...
Saturday 28th April 2012 11:26 pm
Also by NICK ARMBRISTER:NOT PAYING | WHAT I SEE | Sunny 8 | Happy | GIRL | OUCH! | AN UNFORTUNATE DEATH | MY CARS | My Blade, My Life (by Mel) | FORD ESCORT | HEADY RUSH | Natalie. Politico (from my new series of Natalie poems) | SHE HAS THE ANSWERS |
Wrote this piece for my son, though he hasnt read it yet . . . Its about coping with he divorce of his parents . . . Lost In The Post Where's you smile gone? Got lost in the Post? Along with the famly sunday roast . . And brilliant Holidays, torn in two, It's half the life I'd planned for you. Now days spent elsewhere, prised apart, Divorce is a terrible work of art . . Is badly dr...
Saturday 28th April 2012 7:38 pm
Kids with drugs,
it's like their
being ripped apart
by blades of a knife.
They slowly die
from their wounds.
Their souls drain
like blood from
Their lives end.
Maybe not today
maybe not tomorrow,
but they eventually do.
Do we even try
to make it stop?
Saturday 28th April 2012 6:07 pm
Also by Shirley Smothers:The Sea | Kids With Drugs |
Honey, what time do you think you’ll be in?
I want to get to you before the gossip does.
Don’t worry - I love you.
Ruth, I’m going to be delayed.
I have to stay late – extra work.
I’m really sorry.
OK, Honey. I’ll see you when I see you.
Keep it warm.
Saturday 28th April 2012 4:34 pm
Also by Cynthia Buell Thomas:Chatting With Ari |
I've transformated, morphasised,
I've bent, reformed, aligned.
Embraced and moulded with some zeal;
included and combined.
So now I'm out there, chick at large,
pouring forth my thoughts;
compelled to brief to unknown screens,
providing my reports.
When snuggled in my rain-soaked nest.
When waiting for my tea.
When just about to fly the nest,
Saturday 28th April 2012 4:31 pm
Also by Christopher Dawson:Worms and Cheese | Things aren't always what they seem to be. | Suspicions confirmed |
His deeds fortold her future.
His absence etched upon her soul,
His genes that were her makeup
were a mystery to unfold.
His life acting out his mothers belief,
On a mission to impossible
Living inside the words of the 'pious book'
A martyr to the incredible.....
Every night on bended knee,
Repenting all his sins......
He'd remorsely ask forgiveness...
Saturday 28th April 2012 2:13 pm
They strain towards the light.
Blinded by a death
in black and white.
Stood in a puddle of water
its darkness climbing legs
like sweet peas.
Tickling those hardened
by the tenebrous earth. Photograph by Keith Pattison
Leaching tears since ’51.
Saturday 28th April 2012 10:49 am
It’s the Music That Matters!
The Metalhead strums his air guitar
The Indian sings while playing his sitar
It’s not the colour of his skin
- It’s the music that matters!
Panpipes in the mountains
Music in the fountains
It doesn’t matter where it is
- It’s the music that matters!
Synthesisers and Electropop
Strut your stuff and bop till yo...
Saturday 28th April 2012 9:33 am
You used to ask me.. What does pain feel like?
You told me that there will come a time,
When we will feel the sun, but not know it as the sun,
Hear the wind, but not know it as the wind,
And our ribcages will open out like arms in front of us.
You used to ask me.. If pain was what happened when the wrong hands touched the right skin.
You told me that you were so sc...
Friday 27th April 2012 6:22 pm
Also by Joy Claypool:Tell Them | The demon with no eyes. | Spitting Out The Demons |
Does anyone know why 17 Borrowdale Road is missing?
Every day I walk past the empty space
and wonder why it’s not there.
No. 13 is missing as well but I suppose that’s just unlucky.
My husband was born in no. 48 in 1944.
He says there never was a house there;
the plot of land was used as an allotment,
probably to aid the war effort.
I lived at 3...
Friday 27th April 2012 10:10 am
I learn this from him
Give yourself totally to another until time moves on.
Never be afraid to sleep, it’s always darker somewhere else.
Be good to each other, then surrender.
He tells me this when we first meet, when he says
come back for coffee. And we do. Have coffee.
Behind him Che Guevara on the wall curls at the corners
and among the books and...
Friday 27th April 2012 9:45 am
across the page
Friday 27th April 2012 6:44 am
Also by Glyn Pope:Music | The King Of Thorns |
Flippance is a Goodbye Song
Flippance is a goodbye song,
It comes with the yeah yeah yeah’s,
The no no no’s and,
‘Good luck with that,’ they say!
What it actually means is;
I don’t care for you, your opinions
And angle on life,
For it’s too sore a point of controversy,
Too much the...
Thursday 26th April 2012 11:26 pm
Also by Noetic-fret!:Beam | We All Could Be Planets | The Phenomena of Life | Soldier, Sailor...........Late Night Experimental Dub Mix! |
Sometimes i struggle to believe what i hear
It's all like a turd falling into my beer
Katie Price up for 'Mum Of The Year'?
Words escape me
Unmanned drones sent to kill and to mame
Thatchers grandchildren desperate for fame
Nine billion pound for the Olympic games?
Words escape me
What does the compromise of innonence entail
When it's the smoke from celebrity dreams they in...
Thursday 26th April 2012 10:22 pm
Also by Words Escape Me:Don't Look Down (Look Up) |
eerily silent now
the guardroom stands
steeped in the clutch
of stricter times
link to decades past
were viewed as gods
poor demented sods
who knew their wrath
knew military law
court’s martial farce
this guardroom served
as temporary gaol
the bawling tones
Thursday 26th April 2012 8:02 pm
I don’t write poems,
I drink them like wine,
I become tipsy
with each coming line.
I don’t write poems,
I breathe them like air,
I become so happy
when each one I share.
I don’t write poems,
I live with them;
they prolong my years,
they are as true as I am.
I don’t write poems,
I weave into verses
sadness, joy, tea...
Thursday 26th April 2012 7:52 pm
Also by Larisa Rzhepishevska:For Whom To Fish Or Hunt | May be it's a sin... | God Save You! | I Am a Lady | Virtual Life | The Day Of Liberation | Palm Sunday | Poets Souls | My Only Love |
My book - 'Your Sax Is On Fire' is now an incredible £3.99 when you type SAFIRE into the discount code box on
Thursday 26th April 2012 1:14 pm
For clemency, I lie you at the end of my bed –
rest, and keep the flight of my wrecked dreams at bay -
this is your sleep,
a seam of undisturbed silk.
I’ll take my psychiatry with the fluorescence of the day,
there is no hurried rivulet for you to claim,
calm though you are, in the pest, be calmer still in my absence.
The draw of each hour wil...
Thursday 26th April 2012 12:33 pm
Also by Marianne Daniels:Thoughts | Inception | Dose | Spores | Brighton Marathon Donations | Saint to Starve |
Between kicking a ball and vandalizing boredom, I swung around lamp posts
and mouthed my maisonette backdrop around the block.
I would burn spiders with a magnifying glass, a clear conscience, and a smile.
But in a few years - the estate molding me would be bulldozed,
thought so bad by Thatcher’s Britain, to not be fit
for the working class. An irony mocked
by the ...
Thursday 26th April 2012 4:32 am
Also by Chris Co:ThePoetry Spoke- April and your poetry- with Guests Kevin McMahon, Yarbo and Laura James | Wirral Ode Show Open Mic- Thursday- NEW VENUE |
Filled with heavy silence
The clouds went on, shaking their sieve
Adding to a sour day all around.
All purpose was missing,
On a weekday torn from routine.
The depressed bodies
Mooned like tourists
Amongst the trestle tables,
Eating to keep from talking,
Black jackets wet with an odor of mold.
I sat watching out the window
Where the clouds conti...
Wednesday 25th April 2012 10:32 pm
Also by Tom Harding:Sunday Evening | Jury Duty | We Were Not Serious People | Titles, Another Life | Office Poem 1 |
Here at the sink
The tap is running too
And the lenses
Of my glasses
Are spotted with gloss,
But the job is done
And I am satisfied
With my mornings
The completion of
A hunger in me
And the gammon steak
I took out last night
Wednesday 25th April 2012 7:43 pm
Also by mike watts:By nature | Don't look back. | No guarantee | In and out of sweet lady luck |
So many years we’ve been together now,
There never was another one for me.
Beneath bright stars, your key set my heart free,
To love you always was my whispered vow.
Aged just eighteen we had a lot to learn,
We learnt together, made mistakes and how,
Our love survived and flourished so we now
Find blissful heights as passion lasts to burn.
A sweet contentme...
Wednesday 25th April 2012 5:30 pm
Also by Lynn Dye:Live And Let Live? | Seeing Through The Rain | Double Dealings | World War II by Hannah (My 9 year old granddaughter is published!) |
Watch the road
Nature goes inevitable
Blank city connected space
A ship breaks the trees
No metaphor of shipwreck
Sea hating and depressing
Turning at a noise
A few great engines pathetic , regular and horizontal
Wednesday 25th April 2012 1:29 pm
Also by mark littler:moods on wookey hole legends | Titanic |
True love can be elusive,
And even when it's found,
Can seep through the hands,
Like water, on to barren ground.
True love, cannot be bought or haggled,
Like goods on a market store,
Those with the good fortune to find it,
Should treasure it for ever more.
True love is like life itself,
Needing nourishment to survive,
So cultivate it with tend...
Tuesday 24th April 2012 9:00 pm
Also by Lucy:Loneliness to solitude |
For Jack Lytton - brother-in-law - who has just signed off this life to chart the great unknown.
It's the tang of the spray
On a bright summer's day
When you're carried along by the breeze.
It's the bite of the wind
When your face feels skinned,
Salted by cold winter seas.
Monday 23rd April 2012 10:58 pm
Also by M.C. Newberry:NELSON WAS A NORFOLK BOY | LIVE AND LET DYE - A cyclist's riposte to dear Lynn Dye | THE BEST AND WORST OF THINGS | BROTHERS | RENEWAL - some thoughts at Easter | KEEPING WATCH | FREEHOLD OR VACANT | HAWK |
For all of those trembling on the brink, all wannabe poetry performers, as yet uninitiated and still afraid to stand-up on an open mike night, WOL Middleton night at the Ring of Bells is just up your street.
I was last to climb the ladder of a steep staircase to the cosy room upstairs at Middleton’s Ring of bells, I was warmly welcomed by the words of our compare Gemma ,( I’m pregnant...
Monday 23rd April 2012 8:49 pm
Also by Gus Jonsson:The Stolen Smile | Into The Light |
Although what we do today feels routine,
a rhythmic activity which can seem mundane,
I still remember the very first time,
that whirl of surprise, then joy ... satisfaction.
I know back then it wasn't with you,
but a chance encounter, a sweet interlude,
a spiral I held in my hand for a moment,
a love to be savoured, and longingly pursued,
for the sense of arriva...
Monday 23rd April 2012 9:43 am
Also by Alison Smiles:Breasts | Moonshine | Flirtation |
Memories of Mum and Dad
Where are they now, these people who loved me?
One of them dead and the other one should be.
He died early and I'm waiting for Satan to ring her.
I don't think of them often, but these memories linger.
Six foot five, full of Guinness and fight.
Five foot four, full of vinegar and spite.
Belligerent bully with fists of iron.
Constant critic ...
Monday 23rd April 2012 12:48 am
Many years ago
While I was playing out
I saw a boy in uniform
Got told he was a Scout
Can I be one of those
I went and said to Mum
Of course you can my little boy
Consider it done
She bought me a new Scout shirt
And it did not dent my pride
But the trousers she provided
Were old ones just re-dyed
I loved to g...
Sunday 22nd April 2012 8:31 pm
Also by Ste:Dad |
And so you'll never see me
as I see myself.
That doesn't worry me.
We have Spain and enough excitement to
to take our minds off cold nights
and over priced spoiled wines.
Your hands are two foreign explorers
excited enough to travel
the country of my skin,
from earlobe to navel
I feel like half a man
under the microscope of your curious fingers.
Sunday 22nd April 2012 7:40 am
(Lines for the lady medic)
You`ll laugh and say, `That poets in a plight`
That, `He`ll remember nothing` or maybe fret,
That `being three parts drunken on the night
`the things he said were anyway all lies`
But, love, could I forget,
How the laughter, capering with the light,
Danced wild Antrim-antics in your eyes?
Or that your voice had in it, when y...
Saturday 21st April 2012 2:19 pm
Poem 2 of 230: WALKABOUT WITH MY PEN
(TUNE - IN THE KEY OF C MAJOR:
C2 F3 G2 G3 A2 A3 G2 G3
C2 G3 A2 A3 G2 G3 F2 F3
C2 A3 A2 A3 G2 G3 F2 F3
C2 G3 A2 G3 A2 G3 F2 F3
C2 F3 G2 G3 A2 A3 G2 G3
C2 F3 G2 G3 A2 G1 F1 F3)
Once drove an old sedan up north,
From a place in Sydney to Cairns;
Then to Kuranda I went forth
By train, to look without set plans.
I browsed through...
Saturday 21st April 2012 1:09 pm
Also by David Franks: Walkabouts Verse:State to State (Chants from Walkabouts - 2) | Land's End to John o' Groats (Chants from Walkabouts - 3) |
Fishing for Fella's
Scope out the field,
locate your target,
make your move
on a true bargain.
Set out the bait,
the walking wriggle
for victim's interst.
Cast out the line,
straight to the point;
with charming smile,
in seductive voice.
Grow the pole, out
on the pull,
must be a big'un
Reel him in,
close and tight;
Saturday 21st April 2012 2:33 am
Also by Phillip Kelly:BREAK-DOWN a BREAK-UP |
Re Cycle Thread
I came, I saw, I cycled, but didn’t get far,
I took a ride upon the bonnet of a car,
Spokes ended tattered and broken,
Nose all scratched and vanity shoken! [chew on that one Yvonne]
Since the saddle’s all bent I can’t sit tall,
Shanks’s pony seems to me a good call,
I’d use the towpath over by the river,
But too many bikes there make ...
Friday 20th April 2012 5:39 pm
Also by Nick Clifton:Dinner Date |
If you spent half the time you do
In trying to deceive me
Then I could tell you half a lie
And you would half believe me.
Friday 20th April 2012 10:01 am
I just LOVE sitting still in my car on the M25
For one thing, you don't have to drive!
I especially love it on a really hot day in summer-
Sure, being late for work's a bit of a bummer
But not to worry
And anyway, what's the hurry
When it's all in the glorious name
Of the super duper Games
No travel pain - no huge numbers of UK gold medals gained
Friday 20th April 2012 1:53 am