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ACRONYM

 

ACRONYM

 

An acronym for this, an acronym for that.

RTA, road traffic accident, metal meat grinder

crushing pulping raw red flesh.

Watch the skies and blink twice, was that a UFO?

See the little green men loop their unidentified flying object,

of course you imagined it.

You should feel safe protected by NATO

from the enemy whoever he is.

Yet there i...

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Also by NICK ARMBRISTER:

GOTHIC STORM | EXILE | My Blade, My Life (by Mel) read live by me at scribble fest oldham 24/5/12 | Sunny 8 | THE OLD MILL | His Latest Flame/Fugitive | MISSILE LAUNCH | Warhearts | FORGOTTEN PROMISES | FREEDOM | MISTY WATERS | OUT/IN series of mad poems 2001 | Araboth | FIRE | Natalie. San Carlos Water and free download link | MAN-MADE MECHANIZATIONS | Natalie. Roberto | BURIED ALIVE |

acronymwords togetherfirst letterabbreviation

Posts To The Wire

Posts To The Wire

 

Ropes and chains flutter

And bars bend

In the breeze of imagination.

You rise

And water rises with you.

You breathe constancy

And the earth

Revolves beneath you.

You break the bread

Of humanity

And the earth is replete.

 

You. Forever out of reach

Are grasped by the snares of desire.

 

Tethered to thoughts

...

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Also by Peter Asher:

A short poem for a girl who lived for only 50 minutes |

JUBILEE JOY - welcoming our guests

Dear valued visitor...

So glad to see you here,

The warmest of warm welcomes

In this very special year -

 

When we celebrate a diamond Queen

Upon an ancient throne,

While Olympic gems will have a sheen

With royalty of their own.

 

Our land is proudly on parade,

Its capital playing host,

With traditions that will never fade

(Though it's not our...

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Also by M.C. Newberry:

GEORGE LLOYD - composer | UNTIL I SAW YOUR FACE - song | WHEN YOU WALKED INTO MY LIFE | UNTIL I SAW YOUR FACE - a love song lyric |

Jubileejoy

Mr Gabardine Man

(with acknowledgements to Bob Dylan)

 

 

Hey, Mr Gabardine Man

Give a flash for me

I’m not prudish so let’s see what God’s bestowing you.

And hey, Mr Gabardine Man

Give a flash for me

Don’t hide your dingle-dangle organ

They’re not following you.

 

Outside the Barnsley Empire

So proudly you would stand

With your chopper in your hand

Showin...

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Also by John Coopey:

The Cart Belongs to Paddy | The Three Hulats | Tanaburs | Fergie, Fergie | Together |

extract of thought

 

...you change the world 

when casting a shadow;

to change it meaningfully

you need to move 

from out of the shadows.

 

everything has a purpose;

everything has a state.

it's purpose is to exist;

to be formed

by chance

or change of purpose.

 

without a purpose

'it' ceases to exsist,

and becomes something else.

the new purpose.

...

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Also by Tommy Carroll:

7000th comment wins | You do not hear my voice. | The Gaoler's daughter | A Lady's dismissal |

Passengers must not cross the line

Written coming into Stourbridge Junction 29th May 2012

 

Passengers must not cross the line

An epitaph for a lingering death of times occasionally sublime,

Travellers lovers and would be friends

Attempting to wander over fertile ground

Once so profound

Passengers must not cross the line.

 

By car, by train, by plain, by boat, adventurers in love.

In time,...

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Loveliferelationshipsparting

Derb.

.......With my portrait of an image.

Derb calms it,

cleans it,

and while blocking all.

Derb claims it.

 

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Six Days

On the sixth day

I lost my.

Not in a ha ha way

not the good kind,

the crushed pink units

of powder seemed to

want me to leave

this place.

This death

wants me.

 

I thought no sleep would

make a writer

out of me

out of death

but

the world had an ending

I could not figure

and left me

shivering in the dark.

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Also by Kealan Coady:

Among Bone | Neverless | N |

On The Photo In The Newspaper

 

On the photo in the newspaper -

The soldiers, standing arm in arm,

The heroes of the World War II,

With smiles on faces and charm.

 

The photo was taken before a battle,

Before the guns began to rattle.

The sky was blue,

The grass was green,

The friends were true

The truest you have ever seen.

 

No one knows their names,

No one knows who...

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war poetry

Photosynthesis

 

The tree outside my window has got

its leaves back, obliterating my view

of the road. Big and plentiful and green,

their re-emergence means that now I

just have to suffer the noise of the mutant-

army that gathers and quarrels restlessly

with itself, before threatening to

smash-up the car belonging to the

Lithuanians who live somewhere to

the left of th...

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A.W. of Accrington

Well hello there,

 It has been a long old while since I last posted and lots has happened since my last post. I have a new job and am now officially a commuter which is inspiring a large amount of material as you can imagine. I have also had one or two tragic events happen which leads me to my latest entry.

 At the beginning of this month my Grandfather passed away after losing a long f...

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DeathCancerMemoryLife

The Passenger

“I don’t think I need any of you”

 

                     *

 

They sit in the circle – each part with arms folded,

creased in. Cautious to the centre of the light -

behind them, their secrets close in sharp black.

By being together, a self absorbs the room –

moving in and out, like a breath finding sleep.

 

 

She speaks first, the one with the dumpli...

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Also by Marianne Daniels:

The Gaze | Pure | Drift Kindly | War Quiet |

Contents of War

                                   Contents of War

 

 

War, is a strange parody of life,

You live it as a soldier;

Beckoned by power be you brave

Or a coward,

It is much fought over this,

This human debacle that

Never relents,

Never goes away to tired

Quarters of history,

Much fought over by

Pacifist and Politician alike,

     Always a bar...

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Also by Noetic-fret!:

The Reality of What It Really Is | One 2 One | A Declaration of Truth | Saying Earth | A Yard Away | The Haunted Future | Porcelain |

war

Go There Get There Under Sheets

Read more …

School time

(someone once bet me I couldn`t do a `Woman`s Own` poem)

(who couldn`t !)

 

 

Will you, Mary, when I ask,

Put that magazine away,

And Tommy, have you done the task

The teacher gave you yesterday?

 

And, Peter, where`s that jar of ants

You said were for biology?

Keep them out of Tommy`s pants

Or else you`re going to hear from me.

 

Here`s o...

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Thirst

'performance'  - maybe, 'poetry' - not.  Audio inspired by the Eurovision Song Contest and a few pints, with music by 3-fingered George.

 

Thirst


I'm sitting on a tractor seat
loading bales of straw,
with spool-valves at my fingertips,
dusty eyes rubbed raw.

There's seven hundred more to cart
but thunder's in the air;
and many hours work ahead
before the field is ...

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A Garland of White Roses

Back again

Head down

Scrubbing the ball

furiously on his flannels

 

A little sweat off the brow

onto the hand

and

onto the ball

 

Four men up close

A scowl at the batsman

 

Hawke goes forward

and he’s caught

 

Cowdrey swooped at it

Up went Trueman

Up went the crowd

Stood to him

Cheered him

 

And as Hawke wal...

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Another poem of mine was used

I have found another one of my poems "A Mime Rhyme" on at least 3 websites that does not give me credit.

I am so frustrated. Can't people make up thier own rhymes without using mine? I am a litte flattered that this particular poem is so popular. But come on it's cute but not that great.

This makes me want to stop putting my poems on the web. I got so frustrated that I posted this poem ...

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Also by Shirley Smothers:

A Mime Rhyme | The Darkness | A Nicked Poem | Non Traditional Haiku about my Poem | Haiku about a Stolen Poem | Someone has stolen my poem |

Nuclear Cradle Song

Nuclear Cradle Song

 

Bye, baby, bye

Cry, baby, cry

You cry so do I.

My tears have all run dry.

So cry, baby, cry

 

Cry, baby, cry

Bye, baby, bye

No use in asking why

Our dreams fell from the sky.

So cry, baby, cry, baby, cry.

 

Bye, baby, bye

Cry, baby, cry

No one to hear you cry.

No one to hear us try.

Oh, cry, baby, cry,...

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Also by Yvonne Brunton:

Kitchen - Made | House Hunting |

warbabies

Innocent Memories

As a child life was sweet friends playing footy in the street,

Holidays to far off places, Ice cream, rock and candy laces,

See the waves come racing in crashing over sandcastles, splattering,

Get yourselves dried are you too tired for Donkey trekking along the shoreline,

 

I remember days like this when girls would blush and steal a kiss,

In front of mates this isn't do...

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Voyage

 

I'm sitting waiting on a South West Train
You can spoil your day if forced to constantly complain
Can't open the window
Can't use the loo
The air conditioning
Recycles smells of poo
Everyones reading or shutting their eyes
We've all been mugged off
It's simple and plain
I've been ripped off again
To no surprise
Yes - I've been ripped off
In ...

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South_West_TrainsStagecoach

Dales Pictures

Wensleydale, Swaledale and Nidderdale,dwell

Up in the North under mountain and fell

While Wharfedale and Airedale settle, more southern

Than the bleak bare uplands of remoter cousins.

 

Here, cottongrass, deergrass, heath-rush and sedge

Bow fuzzy heads by the chill water's edge

As tadpole, natterjack, newt, toad and frog

Swim, squirm and slither in the soft sphag...

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Also by C Richard Miles:

Bowers Row Second-hand Memories | Mayday Mourning |

A Map

 

I carry a music inside me –

 

It is a quiet wind that shows me

where I am.

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Little bohemia in Warwick

 

Remember these times

He urged me earnestly

Does he know that

I lived a dream in one afternoon?

Everything I ever desired

And hoped for came together

In one climatic peace

 

The empty bottles stand proud

Brimming with translucent love

Wisps of heavenly smoke

dance and tease the air

that surrounds us

Unable to write

I live

 

© ...

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Also by Katy Megan:

Extra Hot, Extra Wet, Extra Shot | First Night | Echo (aka In response to the infamous You Tube performance) | Popping the loveberry |

Lovewarwickbohemia

Leaping like calves

Once, a young fresher was reading the rules, and was
        more than perplexed at the place where they state:
"All undergraduates, if they are Anglicans,
       must be in chapel each Sunday at eight."
Racking his brains, he began a small rumour that
       spread through the town on the weekdays that followed; he
was not an Anglican, nor Nonconformist; his
       faith and reli...

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Also by Marnanel Thurman:

Fury said to a fish |

No Pansies (for Charlotte)

 

 

In a world full of clumsy-coloured periscopic petals,

we floated macaroons inside             

a covered                    

coloured                                 

glass                           

 

She drank her bubbled wine through a flock of flower stems,

drew spoofs of Dodgson’s arty facts            

on spines of

rented

books

 

...

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Also by Laura Taylor:

Prism in Shade |

WASP

WASP

 

Do you ever wake up thinking why am I here,

Those seconds of doubt with that tingle of fear,

That realisation that for all that your worth,

You’re simply a drain on this wondrous earth.

 

A wasp you might say has no purpose at all,

Annoying and stripy, pathetically small,

But always our reasons and rationings fail,

For life like the wasp ha...

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Jubilee

An’ when dem mark

dis special relationship

an’ when dem march

as if all Englan’ cliffs

stand still

beneath a feet

 

mek a sky dark hot

mek a sun down burst

mek a moon drink deep

off a sea  

an’ let it drown up

Carnation Street

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Until It Sounds Like Jazz

photo credit: Bill Cottman 

Until It Sounds Like Jazz

Nihilism compromises jazz

Bloodstream and fault lines

Trap us in layers of inherited attitudes

And ancient expectations

Dynasties of dubious repute

Align with catastrophe

Darkness

Ugliness

And the struggles of oppressed peoples

The rapping of the Earth

And too many beautiful blunders to count

My life is pr...

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

Is This Love (Revised) |

Torch Song

On the day of the royal wedding (29th April 2011) and on the day before, the police arrested dozens of people pre-emptively. People who had not committed any crimes were arrested, often handcuffed, and detained in police cells.  – News Report

I’d like to race in the ‘Lympics
But I’m guessing I must stay put
Because I’m in a wheelchair - 
I have no athlete’s foot

I’d like to jump ...

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Also by STEVE RUDD:

Patience | Invisible Mending |

First impressions

The first time I saw you I thought oh shit,

What have I done, which way is the exit?

You never mentioned your grey streaked beard,

Although I was prepared for plain weird.

But while eccentric is to be expected,

It’s unusual to be GT85 scented,

Poker faced, surly and lycra encased

Oh heaven help me escape here post haste.

 

But I’m polite, a goody two shoes,

...

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Jubilee

Two ladies, late eighties: one flicking

the pages of Majesty magazine

to pass the time, but still a believer;

the other preparing to sail down

the Thames in a royal barge. 

 

Yachts, palaces, castles, state visits,

breakfast cereal in Tupperware cartons.

Happy holidays in the Isles of Scilly,

bereavement, confusion, incontinence.

 

One paid her care home fees by se...

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jubileemonarchyQueen

We Miss You

Dear Jimbo,

On this day you left.

The Earth could no longer handle your grace, for this world can be an ugly place.

We couldn't handle your departure by ourselves. You showed us that we still have each other and that family is more than we were allowing it to be. Some of us will recoil and shrink. We look at them and we think about growth, our own extra terrestrial face as universal being...

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TaylorNicklifevesselbodyspiritsoulhelperHazeldenMNtalityfamilylovecancer21MayJimboGriffinLaurie

ThePoetry Spoke - Open Mic Night - Guests, Laura Taylor & Bob Kettle!

'ThePoetry Spoke'

Great poetry and acoustic music

This Tuesday - 22nd May- doors open 8pm

 

La Gondola

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

'Wols own, Best of Manchester poet 'Laura Taylor'

Laura's poetry pulls no punches, hard hitting...

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Also by Chris Co:

Wirral Ode Show Open mic & poetry filming. | Right Thinking |

Robin Hood Book Manchester Launch

Robin Hood Book Manchester Launch

 

Entry: Free

Open Mic Event

Contact: ushiku.crisafulli@googlemail.com

I am pleased to announce that Ashton Library will be host to the Manchester launch of the Robin Hood Book, a poetry anthology alongside the Robin Hood Campaign analysing, celebrating and discussing various social issues of importance.

There will be readings from Ushi...

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Also by Ushiku Crisafulli:

10 Day Countdown/Robin Hood Anthology Manchester Launch |

Robin Hood BookAlan MorrisonRobin Hood TaxSocietyJusticesocial commentary

Civvies

 

None of the class could put their uniform

on in under a minute, fit their gas masks

 

and speak in a BBC accent. Two ran off

to explore World War Two but got lost

 

in the Blitz. Boys cooed at machine gun

nests and gagged at the taste of canned beef,

 

mistaking it for mustard gas. Everyone

laughed at the tour guide's rendition

 

of "Oh! It'...

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poetrywarworld war one

Surreal

I was at St. Mary's, attending the hymns and prayers,

My friend, now gone. The first funeral I've ever attended,

The readings, Lazarus' rise and the promise made,

Seemingly absurd,

"I am the resurrection and the life,

The one who believes in me will live,

even though they die;

and whoever lives by believing in me will never die.

Do you believe this?”

My thoug...

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Also by Joshua Van-Cook:

The Night | Thoughts for a funeral | The Station | Through the window |

The Tory Press And The Loony Left

 

Warning - political rant - inspired in part by Chris Co's poem, Right Thinking - just my view of course!

 

I don’t think much of the Conservative press,

I think they are responsible, more or less

For indoctrinating normal working folk

Into wearing their tallest and saddest joke

That voting Tory is the way to go,

When workers’ foe is Cameron and co.

They con...

Read and leave comments (16)

Also by Lynn Dye:

Forgotten Hero | Suspicion |

Blog

New  blog up an running have a look  http://velvetmedia.wordpress.com 

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poempoetryblog

Mother's girl

 

 

 

Mother’s girl

 

 

Leaving a litter of lies behind him,

my father would syphon petrol from a neighbour’s car 

like sucking venom from  snake bite,

and disappear in his mini pick -up

into the orchards and fields of his office.

 

Mother was determined to exorcise

the sins of my father from me ,

so caught stealing chocolate biscuits

...

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ALBANIA! My Glastonwick festival! And LOADS and LOADS of gigs

Version:1.0 StartHTML:0000000149 EndHTML:0000010558 StartFragment:0000000199 EndFragment:0000010524 StartSelection:0000000199 EndSelection:0000010524 Hi everyone.....  

ALBANIA!
GREAT gig/exhibition in Tirana, Albania last Saturday – celebrating the clandestine ‘gig’ I did with my friend Steve Drewett from the Newtown Neurotics there in 1989, which I can now 100% confirm was the very fir...

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Bird in a Cage

 

How much I feel for the poor things
Unable to fly or spread their wings,
Each day with the same view
Sad and lonely nothing to do.
 
To the bird the world is that room
Confined to the cage, that’s his tomb.
For life without freedom is nothing at all
No matter whether you’re big or small.
 
Longing to fly on the breeze
Soaring high over the trees
...

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Roll out the red carpets!

I spent hours of hard concentration to judge the poems submitted to our Liverpool-themed LIVER BARDS page poetry competition.

We now have a worthy prize-winner, runner-up, and another writer who will be commended.
 
They will be announced at our sister poetry club, the Bards of New Brighton, at its LIVE POETRY CONTEST this coming Monday 14 May at the Magazine pub in New Brighton, s...

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Bardspoetry competitionLiver Bards

The Well Warrington Junior & Schools Writing Competition

 

Health, Wealth, Happiness. 

Visit www.wellwarringtonnetwork.co.uk/8.html for details or read the instructions below. 

 

The Well Warrington Network helps people with chronic illnesses in Warrington. We do our best to make people feel better with the work that we do. We would ideally like Health, Wealth and Happiness for everyone that we help, which is why we want you to w...

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poetrypoetry competitionsshort storieschildren's writing.

A Variant of a SESTINA poem: Little Child Lost.

A Variant of a SESTINA poem:

Little Child Lost.

 

Lies lost my melancholy, lonely child;

lost with her Fairies in fantasy dreams,

to wake with nightmares reality.

 

Child lies, lonely, lost, melancholy – my

richest treasure sleeps soundly in her nest;

she’s my life, my world, my only success.

 

My child, Melancholy, lies lost, lonely

she cries for...

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The Journey

words

colours

          tearing

                   together

                                                                     across the page

           painting

                      writing

 

 

        sound

         

         brush

          pen

 

          out of

 

colours

 

 words

 

                     ...

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it

ah … the mighty ‘id’

those basic instincts

of sex and aggression

instant gratification

 

impulses unplanned

pouncing

inopportunely

slips of the tongue

shadows in paintings

subplots in poetry

 

our  unconscious primal beast

growling

claw flexing   eye fixing

glimpsed in dreams

free association

meditation

 

a breath

o...

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psychoanalysis

A REVIEW - Charlotte Henson's - Once More With Meaning - The Malt Bar - Bury

The expectant buzz abroad in the streets of Bury last Sunday  (Bank Holiday) evening was liken to , for those old enough to remember, a crowd scene from a  ‘Mad Max’ movie.  Shameless and My Gypsy Wedding merging as one as tarts and farts thronged and jostled  through the streets  spilling noisily in and out of every club and bar. Suddenly and thankfully I was off the street  and through the po...

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Also by Gus Jonsson:

Still a Little Crazy |

Show more entries …

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