Poetry Blogs (Jan 2013)
The wind it tackles
The leaves and the litter
The leaves and the litter
The leaves and the past
The sun it dries
The paint and the puddles
The paint and the puddles
The paint and the past
I saw the land quickly approaching
the bend in the river
that soon would be passed
I saw her look
I knew she was leaving
The leaves and the puddl...
Thursday 31st January 2013 11:21 pm
Also by Tommy Carroll:Scales | Scales | Going knowing gone | Benefit cuts | Lovely Vale Park | What lay beneath | Advice to women |
A couple of WOL's hardiest veterans have spotted that the competition has attracted just 4 entries and have said strongly that the deadline should be extended (you know who you are and thanks for the interest!)
Therefore, to celebrate a cat's amazing possession of 9 lives, the deadline will be extended to 9th Feb (a Saturday). As well as the original themes, the poem may also be about or co...
Thursday 31st January 2013 11:17 pm
Also by Dave Bradley:Jumping the queue | Cat. Prize competition last few days | Oddle Poddle | The Last Kiss | Cat. Prize competition |
When I was with the Coal Board I worked for some right bastards.
This wasn’t unusual. The Coal Board’s cultural style was what management gurus euphemistically call “heroic”. Managers were bastards and, to succeed, staff needed to emulate them if they wanted to become managers.
One particular manager I worked for could have made my life a misery were it not that I were so...
Thursday 31st January 2013 9:21 pm
Also by John Coopey:Samantha Louise and Sweet Sarah Jane | Hotel Fawlty Towers | Old Ladies | Honduras | Penis Penis | You've Met The Met | Gays (No Sex Please - We're Bishops) | Mr Gabardine Man - Part 2 | Sell-By Dates - The Great Rip-Off |
So many faces I’ve seen!
Now I do believe Darwin.
The patient was treated for jaundice,
The autopsy showed he was Chinese.
Rotten is well hidden and forgotten.
Do you mind?
Or you don't mind
because you don't have mind?
Thursday 31st January 2013 8:01 pm
Also by Larisa Rzhepishevska:In the Beginning Was the Word... | Tomorrow | Rzhepicks 2013 |
Lady Jane Grey was little more
than a holiday home, a change of air;
Elizabeth Woodville was Long Stay –
students dreaded placement there.
Hers was a thicker atmosphere: moon-fogged
with menace throughout the year.
It’s the Western Australian Blue Mist, Doctor,
or else I’m losing my eyesight.
When a man said he wanted to meditate
it meant he wanted to ...
Thursday 31st January 2013 4:32 pm
The key of currency
is the changing of hands,
a baton passed on
in constant motion
that binds together
all its participants.
A fresh, crisp bill
is a virgin still,
between your fingers
and epic journey
are yet to unfold.
Thursday 31st January 2013 2:24 pm
I said to myself I would like you
We had both been swimming
Against a tide
A thing worth having…
And all that
‘There isn’t a girl in this world that doesn’t like me’
I said to him
Wanting that to be true
And one day in floats you
Quietly striding the breadth
Of the living room
Expecting to see a monster
Thursday 31st January 2013 12:25 pm
Serious accidents involving police chases are more common than you think.
The pursued in a panic to get away drive to the brink.
A stampede ignites in the perpertrators brain and panic sets in,
Innocent lives abruptly ended,completely destroyed, a sin !
6/01/13 South London
A positive hit on the police car's automatic number recognition system percipitates panic,
Thursday 31st January 2013 9:20 am
Also by hugh:A miracle recovery for baby Sam | Clare Foges -this girl is on fire. | Anaesthetised !! | The last whine ! | Stamina rebuild advice for Stan the" stallion" goes wrong | Tasty Equine Segments,Customer Outrage !! | Accrington Victoria Hospital | The loneliness of Lucy | Is your driving licence valid ? | A callous and cowardly crime committed in Greenford, West London - 19/11/12. |
Thursday 31st January 2013 7:42 am
Also by Paul Sands:Iced | tallulah zeitlos | We Chose Hooks | Policy | Trip | Eye |
How We Used To Live.
When bestiaries were commonplace
and symbolised a path to grace,
the sheen that lights a raven’s wing
was held to be a common thing;
until such features lost ...
Thursday 31st January 2013 7:03 am
Wednesday 30th January 2013 11:55 pm
Also by Ged Thompson:My Dragon | Blue Lights, No Siren | The Latest Craze | Caught Between The Devil And A Dragon | How brave a poet | Four Leaf Clover | Rekindle cake (plus video performance attached at bottom) | Goodness Gracious - a video poem by Ged Thompson | While you sleep |
I was fit and feisty at fifty
It was no big deal
Because that's how half a century
Is supposed to feel.
In my seventies, I'll take stock
Start making great plans
Ignoring all the 'you can'ts'
And embracing all the 'I cans'.
Can I be sexy at seventy?
And try all the fashions and fads
Wear stockings and suspenders
And Joan Collins shoulder pads.
I can deal with sexy at seventy
Wednesday 30th January 2013 7:32 pm
Also by Hazel Connelly:No Simple Life | Faded Firelight | Edward | ROBERT BURNS | The Grass Is Greener |
I'm the defective detective.
I marvel at the whiteness of frozen snow.
Left right upper leg.
Do you like beer?
No I like Ricky Gervais.
I'm inside the tumble dryer spinning in space.
Just made a hillinit bloody hooooot.
Why do I let the last 5 years drag me down?
Chained to me,
self destroying me from within.
I'm the Phantom Ray...
Wednesday 30th January 2013 6:57 pm
Also by NICK ARMBRISTER:Sky Fight | poems from my new book THE RANTINGS OF A DAMAGED MIND co wrote with Mel... | PLANET EARTH | FLY | Cyanide Footsteps, Arsenic Touch | New Beginnings (by Mel) | Daddy's Poem by unknown poet | my new poem book co written with Mel Grobler |
Streaker on the news.
Epileptics warned against
Wednesday 30th January 2013 12:11 pm
Also by Mark Niel:The Girl on the Jubilee Line |
Do tell me where I am, he said;
the men wear bras upon their head.
I said, I'm sure of where you are:
the Scottish town of Head-in-Bra.
Tuesday 29th January 2013 9:11 pm
Also by Marnanel Thurman:Margaret | Pop Up Poetry video | Thomas Malthus | Ambition | Horatius |
There’s always a way back home.
Maybe no one told you
But cement and brick last a long time,
Even when neglected.
You can disappear for a year or ten
Then come back again, to the street,
And watch history repeat
As memories breathe through old concrete.
And maybe it’ll seem strange to meet,
After all it was there I learnt life can be like
Tuesday 29th January 2013 7:28 pm
Also by Wez Jefferies:Fashion antithesis | 'Cos it's the ones that love you |
Tuesday 29th January 2013 3:32 pm
Also by David Blake:Futile Boundaries | Orange Garden | The Intruder |
By 5.45pm on a bitterly-cold day recently, following a call to the car mechanic, I'd had enough. Nothing was going right. Not the three new poems I was working on. Not my car. Nothing.
New furry hat on (thanks, Oonagh) then up the hill I went to the MASSIVE Ss Peter and Paul Church, New Brighton, Wirral (well, if you're gonna do 'Church Triumphant' you might as well do it New Brig...
Tuesday 29th January 2013 2:54 pm
Also by Steve Regan:Such misery - in Goole, Hull and Wigan |
There is a city, hidden in the sand
where few have visited. I understand
it glitters in the scorching noonday sun.
To find it is the dream of anyone
who feels that they deserve great wealth,
who follow, creeping like a sphinx, in stealth
to enter through the golden portals great -
answer a riddle and confirm their fate.
The city’s treasures are truly renown...
Tuesday 29th January 2013 12:48 pm
Also by Ann Foxglove:january fairy | dead sheep |
Grasping at half-conscious illusions,
The new year arcs through the post-Christmas crash,
As philosophical ironies regarding love appeared before,
The most voluptuous scene,
And whether this love sought others,
Or only itself to please,
The difference is not always clear.
As such, the turn of the year has all watching,
As the time for a fresh start is ...
Tuesday 29th January 2013 11:37 am
Also by Joshua Van-Cook:The passing of the minute |
The sound of running footsteps,
"No, no, please don't" - then a scream.
The knives were out to kill that shout
And murder the hope and the dream.
Tuesday 29th January 2013 1:51 am
Also by M.C. Newberry:STREETWISE | MAN MADE RELIGION | WHERE ARE YOU GORDON BROWN? | NEW YEAR THOUGHTS |
Like a pristine field of snow
you glare back at me and I know
that even with the greatest will
I’ll never get the words to spill
upon your virgin gown.
I want to smudge the ashes of my dreams
upon your frigid, frozen streams
that when the summer sun’s aglow
lap gently with a lazy flow
caressing inspiration from my brow.
Monday 28th January 2013 11:32 pm
Also by Ian Whiteley:Vermin | Yggdrasil | Twelfth Night |
Salt spray the sensation you’d think to miss,
the heaving deck your only anchor
as the sun rises on set sails
and the canon roars.
A shout into oblivion, the black
trajectory of the missile falling
short, creating a fountain of brine
while the mate mouths
oaths and the captain shouts.
Blood on the decks as all hands
wield mops and pails ...
Monday 28th January 2013 6:33 pm
Also by Tony Earnshaw:Olympics in Dorking |
That Google thrill;
seeing your name overtake
drain clearers, garage owners,
estate agents, even playwrights.
Habit had to be fed,
became second nature.
Alarmingly easy. Just change
a location, you’re on to a winner.
Imitation built a growing
offers to publish
a first collection. That
MA in creative writing.
Monday 28th January 2013 9:13 am
I felt nothing at first.
Just the loud crack of a distant whip, the echo
Bouncing through the crumbling streets and fetid alleyways,
Painted with the stench of unintentional sacrifices
And scorched by the Middle Eastern sun.
He can see me, this one, even now,
Staring down the lens like a wayward sailor scanning distant rocks for Sirens,
Tempting him to death.
He’s watching me cr...
Sunday 27th January 2013 11:59 am
Also by Simon Austin:In Your Skin | Oh Darkness, Sweet Darkness | Giants of the Earth | Mortality |
For two days and two nights we architect a megalomania
in defiance. Disguised in stray abandon amongst oblivious streets.
Scavenging on Oxford Street you buy skinny black jeans and converse.
Just like mine. We shamelessly crawl sex shops for new toys
and sully Soho square’s benches with marijuana smoke.
You recite poetry loudly, off the cuff of your duffle coat,
Sunday 27th January 2013 8:17 am
Also by Katy Megan Hughes:Grief | Should I tell her? | Utterly disobedient poetess... | Choice or Dilemma? |
The magician cat.
Folds it front feet underneath
where they disappear
Sunday 27th January 2013 3:25 am
At the door you turned back to me
And smiled so I would believe.
You said you would be back by November
And it wouldn’t be another lonely winter
Well, the leaves on the ground already came
And a cold grey sky is all that remains.
Saturday 26th January 2013 9:22 pm
Saturday 26th January 2013 1:37 pm
This is an ekphrasis on L'Agonie by Felicien Rops.
Sonnet on Death
Demons clutch at your rib-cage ladder
Grasping the arteries, choking your veins
Your bones are now fragile and ready to shatter
Oh dear, you're looking quite pale.
Your bloodless skin is as thin as paper
With cavities where worms slither in.
A struggling heart still resisting the Taker...
Friday 25th January 2013 7:53 pm
Shame - the greatest shambles; a sham
sex and guilt, beauty and modesty; molest
pitted in the stomach like acid,
spat swallowed pity, feeding starvation, an unquenchable famish, unsensibly sore
malnourished habits die hard, and lonely, resentfully
twisting and turning and diving, deprived
Lies for eyes, for ears and the nose; twitch
flies on the flesh of ...
Friday 25th January 2013 5:48 pm
Also by Ludo:2012 | Education | The Formula for Art |
And thought to find in the dawn’s smoky gloom
But when she touched his damp cheek
He asked, ‘Are we still in our roles?’
His shuddering breath betrayed
The cold question.
‘Yes,’ she answered kindly, ‘we are.’
But ... Oh … Oh!
The light was cruel.
Friday 25th January 2013 3:21 pm
Okay fine folk of Write Out Loud……….and Nick! It was bin some time nuw that myself have written anything of umour, most of my werk pondering the more makaber of lifes machinashions. To this end, myselv have conduced a piece of wirk that gos some way into eleeviating the prejudism that is a-ssosiated with the more eldery of our populous. It is a werk that took some...
Friday 25th January 2013 2:55 pm
Also by Noetic-fret!:The Sad Loss | Out of Darkness | A Planet Soul of Solitude | Gulf War Syndrome (Updated) |
Its cold outside
And Winter in my soul
The virgin snowfall numbs my thoughts
And my eyes and ears are frozen whole
Still cold and colder still
Passion frozen as passion will
And still the snowflakes fall
As silently as a snowflake tends to fall
As cold as cold can be
And the heat within means nothing
It’s the heat from a thousand words in moti...
Thursday 24th January 2013 7:45 pm
Also by Steve:Ode To A Long Lost Lover | Mum | The Middle of The Night | Black Sunday | This Morning | Man In The Mirror | Past Lives | That Place |
(A revised post from my vanished blogs)
Hers was a beauty shear and clear and clean!
……………A beauty born to break
Across the placid sight of placid men,
Leaving such lovely turbulence in its wake
That they be never - ever - the same again.
Thursday 24th January 2013 12:09 am
Also by Harry O`N eill:Should he go to Specsavers? |
Over weight, plump face Full plate, In front of your, 40 inch plasma, The afore, the size of your waist, Metaphorically and physicaly so, As you gorge before, Images of underprivileged folk, As you waddle past skeletons, On the high street, I hope your feet meet, The position of what your eyes see. How is it, as the world turns Calories are burned quicker, somewhere in the t...
Wednesday 23rd January 2013 11:18 pm
The wind that blows
in a breath of time
has no borders,
as it sings new ways
like flickering waves
across the sea.
Wednesday 23rd January 2013 7:01 pm
Also by Carla Tombacco:In the maze |
I got a rhythm deep inside o me
Dat mek me want ta move n dance
Mi go to da salsa class n tek a chance
I put mi dancin shoes on n me come alive
Dis bruddah is groovin n dats no jive
I got nothing ta say n I aint walkin
Im shakin my ting n lettin my feet do da talkin
Everybody is funkin n turnin up da heat
Wednesday 23rd January 2013 11:52 am
Also by Tom Doolan:Ma Third Eye |
Published on Halfway Down The Stairs
Wednesday 23rd January 2013 11:31 am
Also by Laura Taylor:Electric Blue (for Avital) |
Tuesday 22nd January 2013 2:41 pm
Also by Marianne Daniels:Silence | Winter Hour | Handwriting |
photo credit: Deanna Towne
There is no clean slate
No blank sheets of paper
To write our lives on
We palimpsestically erase
And rewrite existence like
And rescaping canvas
With images telling new stories
Often by another painter
In some other time
With alterative visions
No story is complete
Life goes on in ways
Tuesday 22nd January 2013 1:23 am
Sat here on facebook.
Should be writing poetry.
"Stop messing! Start work!"
Writing a haiku
about writing a haiku
is really boring.
She always uses
it's so annoying!
Monday 21st January 2013 10:33 pm
Monday 21st January 2013 8:13 pm
The curtains a cocoon
which I have outgrown
though I dare not venture out
my wings maimed
by an internal eternity.
Some days they open
as the sunlight shines
and snow falls
yet it remains a parallel world
a door to an unfamiliar universe
Even inside plates pile up
like a porcelain possum
Monday 21st January 2013 1:36 pm
Also by Ushiku Crisafulli:In Soviet Russia... | That's so gay |
I have a rat in my kitchen
he's grinding his baccy stained teeth
under his sticky brown moustache
he strains his throat to speak
'you want to forget about this '
'incase you get old'
'you write a good poem,
you have potential'.
He does a bit of this and that this rat
nothing more penetrative
no less pervasive than a lull, a lazy dull
Sunday 20th January 2013 4:27 am
We are Pros and Coms and are new to Write Out Loud. We were told this is were the cool poets hang out and we want to hang with you. From time to time we have 5 poetry slots on our bill if you are from liverpool and the surrounding area we would invite you to be a part of it. At the minute the only reward we can offer are the sound of clapping from our lovely audience. So please...
Saturday 19th January 2013 9:11 pm
inspired by a brilliant accidental radio remark
families living in poverty?
no one lives in poverty now
me dad was killed in the mines in ‘49
me mum had to bring up seven of us on next to nowt
I was talking with another old boy
about how tough it was in our day
how easy these young folks ‘ave it now
‘I know, ‘ ‘e says, ‘if you was cold when I w...
Friday 18th January 2013 9:05 pm
Fall like snow
Degrees of memories
Bits of paper flutter
Along the pavement
Get to work, boy!
I would like to wish you all
A really nice, safe new year
Taking stock of empty boxes
Mrs Browne is a mean old witch.
Thursday 17th January 2013 11:52 am
Thirty silent clocks;
estate of an elderly man
who hoarded time in his bungalow
until each piece was spent
and he became time bankrupt.
I choose one for its looks,
wind it up like an old fashioned toy,
smile at its resuscitated tick-tock.
But on my mantle piece
it clamours above TV and chat,
raising its voice when I leave the room
Thursday 17th January 2013 9:57 am
I wrote this poem a few years ago. I wrote it to be bad on purpose.
Wednesday 16th January 2013 9:18 pm
Also by Shirley Smothers:Sweet Isabella |