Poetry Blogs (Oct 2013)

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An Ode To My Bro

Ode To My Bro

A personal homage!


     You’re my brother!

And it’s sad that you don’t come round

For offerings of food –

Perhaps a Sunday roast,

It’s always got to be at your home

Or neutral ground,

     And the coldness

Is like that of stone –

Polished to a high degree of status,

But I’m your brother man –

And though we fought like

Cat a...

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Also by Noetic-fret!:

On Isolated Ground | They're Blaming Themselves | The Biggest Word I Know | Gentlemen of the Cotton Towns | An Elusive Natural | Inspired by Tom! | Tones Of Love | An Indistinguishable |

BrotherChild AbuseMother

Jet Set Go

Meet you at the airport
5 hour layover you say
Sit and chat and drink some coffee
And then watch you fly away

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Also by c byrne:

Similar site to WOL in UK | MC | IT | 1973 | Left Hand Pathos* |


To those who play the "Equality" game

And like to act as scorer,

You cannot make the poorer rich

By making the rich poorer.


What is equal?  A relative thing

When considering our existence.

Is it the gift of brain or bling

Or intransigent persistence?


Is it measured in material wealth

Or mental gifts applying

Or is it judged by physical health


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Also by M.C. Newberry:


Poem: My Soul Now Sings

entry picture

My invisible scars
are plain for anyone to see,
as I blindly journey on...
This path of Christianity.

Wanting deliberate faith
ready on my tongue,
I received God's Salvation
when I was dumb and young.

Inflicted wounds to my soul
from a lack of understanding
have been healed by the Power
of Christ's personal anointing.

I am worth dying for
according to His Word;
The L...

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Also by Joseph J. Breunig 3rd:

Poem: Only Your Adoration | Poem: Prism to our Past | Book Review by Ellen Tanner Marsh: Reaching Towards His Unbounded Glory | Poem: Silent Words Are Useless | Poem: Giving Tithes to God | Poem: Moments of Clarity | Poem: On God's Mountain | Poem: Prone to Error |

breunigchristian poetryfaithMy Soul Now Singspoetry

Our School Was Haunted

Our SchoolWas Haunted


Our school was haunted on this Halloween

All you could hear was moaning and screams

The chairs started groaning,

The floor was all sticky

The slime on the windows was squashy and squishy

The bats and the cats were cooking with witches

And casting a spell of chickenpox itches

The eyelash of spider and toenails of newt

Frogspawn and ...

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Also by Ste J Bee:

Murder, Death, Bones and Blood |


The Passing of the Big Game Hunter


What I got for Christmas 1962.

A big game hunter set containing.


One Hunting rifle with telescopic sight.


On a November day in 1963 whilst playing Lee Harvey Oswald I tripped and fell smashing the barrel on the pavement. As an assassin I was of limited efficiency.


One Torch with changeable red and green filters.


In February 1964 I discovere...

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Also by Stephen Makin Kelly:

Still Raining Under the Trees 1957 |

A Typical Day on the Psychiatric Ward

Wake up at eight after a fitful sleep

Stagger into the day room where a depressed woman weeps

Dressed in a nightie she shouts and bawls

While the staff are outside waiting for role call


Eating soggy cornflakes watching Jeremy Kyle

In come the cleaners in uniforms they file

Cleaning the bedrooms it's pretty hard slog

One pulls a vacuum like dragging a dog



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Also by Dean Carroll:

Schizophrenic on a Mission | Top Ten Non-Movers | The Devil's Box | The Hangman of Prague | Mental Health Victims | Religious Dogma | Smoke Till Your Hearts Content |

Mentally IllPsychiatric HospitalsPsychiatrists

Testing Fate

Moving in circles

I find my way back to you

Just one more time

Just one more day,

I’ll knock on your door and

Ask you to let me in again

Hoping you’ll ask me to stay

Because your kisses are longing

Your smile deceitful

Your hands to warm on my skin

It makes my heart race

Can’t catch my breath

I’m just testing fate,

Hoping this will work


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Also by emmy92:

Take me away | (untitled) |

The Futility Of War

Death, The Dealer,
The final deck of life.
No hidden agendas,
Just a cold slate to wipe.
With hand and sword,
With rock and stone.
With shaft sailing, deadly,
Through grey skies, alone.
The smarter the weapon,
The reaper delights.
A fulsome harvest,
Of terror and cries.
Split the atom,
And split the odds.
Split the procee...

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We protest


       Regarding the letter of support for Anne Feradi


We, of the millions strong male Mao branch of the Chinese abortees battalion firmly dissociate ourselves from the pro feminist views of the paltry hundred and eighty thousand total 2011 British abortee intake.

We have long suffered from the deliberate favouritism shown to our female sisters in the matter ...

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Also by Harry O`N eill:

Nature`s `revenge` |

Kulture is a Klub

entry picture

photo credit: Bill Cottman

 Kulture is a Klub

For George Coleman

An old man named Change limped


Clumsily up an avenue downtown

In his hand was a large unwieldy

Envelope labeled REVOLUTION

On his body hung a worn and frayed

Bluesed uniform embossed in

Stitches with the words


He was expecting revolution

To come swiftly

But change co...

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

I USED TO DANCE | (rewrite, repost) Amnesiacs | Little Wing / Epidermis |

George ColemanKulture KlubRev Kennaslow dancing


​They say I'm too old for you and see right through me. I'm excluded from their halcyon days forced to return to my place behind aged horizons being eroded by longing. So much is my want to quench this thirst for youth that I shall master the art of resemblance with or without the aid of deceit.

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Smiling Through Sunshine Rain

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My heart is broken,

there's sadness in my soul,

my spirit is lost,

i really am less than whole.

With a weakness of mind,

and judgement so poor,

i'm falling apart inside,

of that i'm sure.

Is it an illusion,

as inside i scream,

nobody can hear me,

or so it would seem.

Crying out for help,

no-one answers my call,

it gets worse everyday,

with the farther i fall.

With heart that is hea...

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Also by Tj Steele:

Faith In Humanity | Delilah & Grace | Inner Demon | But Hey, Who Am I | The Old Bastards Will | Hurt | The Devil And His Army | One Million Broken Souls |

Perfect Punk - Perfect Day

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I was in a New York frame of mind

A perfect day under a skyscraper sky

Strolling down the dirty boulevard

Waiting for the man with pale blue eyes

Then little sister I heard a sad song

A street hassle vicious piece of news

A soul man with attitude has gone

Now I got the rock n roll animal blues

Sweet Jane  - Not a magic moment

White light white heat check out ...

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Also by Tom Doolan:

Loveontheline | By the Book | Fall Into Autumn | 1 in 4 | Morecambe View |

Tell Me About Love




I love you openly

But you cannot see this

Because you are looking

In the wrong direction

Just turn around now

 And you will see.


I love you quietly

But you cannot hear this

Because you are listening

 In the deafness of silence

Listen for our love now

And you will hear.


I love you completely

But yo...

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Also by Ian Beckett:

Nothing Ever After | Love Life | Comfort in patterns | Slow motion |


Minor Sin

entry picture

(A re-post for Hallowe'en)


The mission’s not impossible; it is not even hard;

I just enact the script for Him - a player, nothing more;

It’s happened in the future once it’s become His Word,

Which is to purge creation of the Babylonian Whore.


She worms her way through history, corrupted to the core;

In Adam’s fated fall from grace his gender she infects;


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Also by John Coopey:

A World Turned Upside-Down | Milliband | Today's Wedding | Wtf? | "For These" said the father "Are The Things A Boy Should Know" | Rugby Fatboy Blues | Venn Diagram | I Collect Money |

CORRIE AND JOHN (after Joan Hunter Dunn)



Miss Corfield, Miss Corfield, we’re destined as one

You a wood nymph, I a woodworkers son.

We both vibrate airwaves of Radio 4

You live and vivacious! I dead as a door.


With nasal enhancement and vamp-throated quirk

You take mundane news and you set it to work

Stirring old men, from straw hat to galoshes

Till backward and forth, my sawdust-blood slo...

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Also by Barrie Singleton:

BRAWN DRAIN | BLANKETY BLANK SLATE (directed infant rage 2012) | RENEWAL | DEAR DIARY (Mother Nature) | SHE WHO HAS TO OBEY | Y-FRONT (from the archive) | DECLINE AND FALL (this one for the longlinists) | MMMM (For all you shortlinists) | SWITCHED ON | WASH DAY STRAGGLER (Betjeman mode) | DARK SIDE | RIGHT OF THE UNCONCEIVED | RAGE OF INNOCENCE (All due respect to Dylan Thomas) | Workshopping Seamus |



She can lift the weight

of your past and present

in an instant.


When she came

life was delivered.


So kindly

that she bears the Moon no grudge

when he needs to use her light

to embrace his loneliness.



Patricia Wilde

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".. beyond the gate ?"

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Is that you, beyond the gate?
I would turn, is someone there?
And a whisper, did you whisper?

Such thoughts, indistinct, troubled.
It cannot be you. The grave is cold.
And the casket, yes the casket,
Must be so old, so very old.

Yet you were there, beyond the gate.
I simply let go of your hand.
The memory just faded. A whisper?
Or your weakened laugh.

And now the gate i...

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Just in chaos

With their welfare reforms being constantly revised.
I wonder, did they hear our defenceless citizens' cries?
Or are they just in chaos?
People forced to choose between food and heat
Did they mean to bring our poor a-begging at some banker's feet?
Or are they just in chaos?
Public servants suffer under a two year pay freeze.
Did they really just forget to...

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Also by Mark Mr T Thompson:

Electromagnetic Legacy - No More Choice On FM |


Another Two Line Horror Story

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I look into the mirror, an old Woman is staring back at me!

AHH!, oh wait, it's just me.




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Also by Shirley Smothers:

Two Line Scary Story |


All Hallows Eve

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All Hallows Eve


Gnarled tree roots claw from the ground

scratching over disturbed graves.

Pumpkins grin their toothless snarl,

fleshy tongues of seed and fibre.

The spectral drift of chilling mist

that prods and pokes at exposed flesh.

Somewhere a creature of the night

mewls in whimpering ecstasy


Dank leaves of autumn line the paths

as little ...

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Also by Ian Whiteley:

Night Scented Stock | In The Arms Of Morpheus | Full Contact | the cuckoo waltz | Graffiti | Winterfylleth (October) | Thirty Plus Years In An Open Necked Shirt |

all hallows evechilds imaginationhalloweenimaginationlonely womanold womanwitchwitches cottage

If You Don't Like The Record -Change it!

If you hate your job


If you don’t like where you live


If you’re stuck in some kind of groove


If you don’t like the record

-Change it!


If you’re not happy outside

-go inside!

If you don’t like to drive


If you don’t want to be quiet


If you can’t bear to be still

-Shake it!


If your lif...

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Also by Steve:

Badgers! | Goodbye Girl | The Spirit of The Tree |



Deep.  Deep in thelemic thought, her

words spill sour, salted by a power

that cowers and spits, shoaling rocks

into desolate fetch, coveting a polyandry.


Exiled.  Exiled she lies, and lies. Coursed

and cobbled. Smooth blissful pebbles

that awake wrecked memories, and hopes

of calm oceans being neither here or there.   


Caught. Caught in a squall ‘twix...

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Also by Katy Megan Hughes:

Just For Today |

lovelove poemlove poetry

What next?

entry picture


Now the demonstration
Where 50,000 people
Rained the streets of Manchester
Has been regulated
To a sentence on Page 21
Of the Daily Mirror


What of those
Whose benefits have?
Been cut because
Of the Bedroom tax
And are straying
Closer and closer
To the breadline
Or worse


What of my friend Cath’s daughter
Who while wait...

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Also by Gray Nicholls:

Regarding the BBC's lack of coverage... |

Love or Lie


You have lied to make me feel special,

I don't need your tainted charm,

Your contaminated feelings

Bring emotional harm !!


I am afraid of emptiness,

Our friendship no longer true

But I wonder if i can stand alone

Without thinking about you.


Disease of your affection is spreading like plague,

Your beauty like a virus attacking violently.


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The Train Girl:A Meeting or Coincidence |

Ann FoxgloveGreg Freeman

Fairy Tales

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When  sun  meets  the  endless horizon
Or sky beholds the shimmering rainbow
It  is  then  a  hidden  door is revealed
To  the   world   of  baffling mysteries
O' It is a  sweet  fairy tale  so read on
For the magic and mysteries it reveals

A  place  where  fairies  and  elves dwell
And ferocious dragons fly so high in sky
Where there is always a sparkling spring
And  flowers ...

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fairy tale


It is always late when I come to this place.
This place that harbors my soul.
How could it be any other way?
Not my choice.
Totally my choice.
I like it dark.
No, I need it to be dark so I will not see the pain.
The pain that will not leave me in peace.
The pain I seek.

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Remembered Hallowe’ens of Childhood

I dream of Hallowe’en when we were children:

No transatlantic pumpkin at our sides

But turnip dug by dad from frost-streaked garden

And carved with care with chore-dulled kitchen knife

Till gaping, gap-toothed grin emerged. Then, skewered

By knitting needle, safe-secured by string,

With stub of candle craftily inserted

In hot-wax solder, to secure its grip.



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How to tell a joke -Advice given to a Lady-

                                               How to tell a joke 
                                           -Advice given to a Lady-

PREAMBLE- Know your audience
                 Know your subject

Write out your joke in full
Read it aloud many times
Remove all diversions
Check for confused references
Ensure you have a command of the required terminology
Try not to get out of your depth

Avoid spor...

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Also by Tommy Carroll:

...and in conclusion | Blackened berries |


Dribbling down
my world half eaten by the running
sound of water in my brain -
there is some thought invested
It is furious
for those women that cackle
in my make-up bag;
picking them out one by one,
to rub their tenderness on my skin
where it flakes off in places.
A mirror is mistaken;
the wrong side of a hemisphere

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Also by Marianne Daniels:

For everything | They Put Milk in the Rain. |

Never See A Nipple...


(with apologies to John Cooper Clarke)



Beheadings are acceptable, boobs are bad

the female form’s fantastic but only when it’s clad

we’re blasé about bullying, laissez-faire on lust

but our patriarch goes postal if the news feed shows a bust

sign on, log in, no matter where you look

you’ll never see a nipple on facebook.


We’ve made a Faustian ...

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Also by steve pottinger:

Lampedusa |




Even now
I sometimes
write them off.
My Dad.
My Mum.

A quandary.

However much I try
to rage.
It doesn’t seem to work.

they fuck you up.
Your Mum and Dad.
And all that.

Just in case
you didn’t know.

Bit of a wanker.
To be honest.

Let me tell you
the day
when my chips
were down.

I was a boy,
In my twen...

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I look to you 

and you see through me.

Forgotten is the time we shared.

Alone, I remain nameless 

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Also by L.M. May:

Heavy Heart |

The manikin and the mannequin

Four years old, 

meandering Marksies with mum,

following the fancy of his feet, 

the manikin sees the mannequin.

Is drawn, fascinated.

Stands before the bikini-clad female figure

as if in worship.

Reaches out and touches.

Touches the cloth,

touches the naughty bits,

the .....would you call it skin?

His mother, my daughter-in-law,

is splitting her ...

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Also by Dave Bradley:

The Autumn Season | Competition. Touch and go | Touching the hem of the robe |

Touch and Go

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What is it with transport? What is it with men?

- this title should make me remember again

the plentiful misdeeds suffered in Spain

when I was a student, taking the train

I wasn't a beauty, no great femme fatale

just a studious, book wormy, meek kind of gal

totally green to the word 'machismo'

and how it gave vent to the game 'touch and go'

often a finger, a palm...

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Touch and Go Comp

Forever Let This Place Here Be

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Forever let this place here be
A warning to humanity,
A cry of despair, suffering;
Death in total, unrelenting.
Forever let its soil be bare,
For life shall grow not anywhere,
This place, a scar upon the face
Of mans wickedness, mans disgrace.

Forever let this place here stand
As evidence of evil planned,
A barren wasteland, void of hope,
Where many left in clouds of smoke...

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Also by Simon Austin:

Purpose | Hitman |


today is full moon

entry picture


Warm blue glow,

peaceful glimmer on the sea,

seems so calm, this world,

and feels one with gleam.

It's been here millions of years,

today is round, the full Moon,

it's soft and cold blue glare

is balm for souls,

for curing wounds...  



audio file - piano composition 'Full Moon' by Irina Sunrise

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Also by Irina Sunrise:

You may kill me |

full moon

My Scrabble Bag Is Empty

My Scrabble Bag Is Empty


I wanted a G

To thank God

For knowing you


I needed an O

To operate as if

Everything was okay


Another O

And I could have said

If only


A letter D

Then I could see

Your name for one last time


With the letter B

Then beautiful thoughts

Could have been shared


If only I had the ...

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Also by Jim Pitt:

Three thirty-three | It Has To Start Somewhere.... |

The Climb

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The folly of the climb

Black rocks gaze at the blue light

Shines through crystal glass

A polluted mineral underground

Collapsed with dignity

Under the influence of a memory.


The darkened peace continued

On the banks of our fair hill

A cough heard, a click

As the night brings on a warning

And all is silent

Oh, the folly of the climb.

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Also by David Blake:

Birdbath |



the kettle sings loudly 

and clicks off

water ready to make a brew

delivered thoughtfully and sincerely

into the lounge

to the table in front of the TV

with a smile


and then

back to the kitchen

explosive tears

jetting into clenched hands

face jammed against the cold sink

gut screaming –

What songs there were to sing!

Plays to act!

Students to tea...

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You can’t walk away from all that you are,

No matter how hard you may try,

You can lock away truth in an iron clad box,

But you must not admit to the lie.


Whatever you are and whatever the pain,

What is given is that you are bound,

And in truth we are melodies lost on the wind,

In the torture of discordant sound.


It’s better to face it ...

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Between The Hats

I have outgrown both the years

and the clothes

which had my name sewn into them

this doesn’t mean I no longer need help

to figure out who I am

my gloves are no longer twinned

by umbilical wool

but I appreciate you holding my hand

while leading me through this cold weight

I am living in those times

between hats

though if god were bothered to look


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Head of Steam Station Bar

Waiting at the  Head of Steam with a foaming pint
Eastwood’s Nettle Thrasher
Waiting for a train
With a poet from Barnsley
Macmillan, not a nurse
A poet, on a train
Train arrives, late I remember
With a poet from Barnsley
Alliteration in Huddersfield
Blank Verse to Berry Brow

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The Demise of the Library (or, Xanadu Deceased)

Part 1

Thought I’d pay a visit to a place that kept me sane during trying years of living as a child.  My latest craze, Ray Bradbury, was draining me of funds and I could not afford to buy him any more. It was then that I recalled a special place.  The library, that library, my Xanadu from childhood; where I grew up, my special little haven from the world.


How precious it was.  Th...

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Also by Laura Taylor:

Assembly |

Notes following meeting Mon 14 Oct 2013

Hi Maggie, John and Nigel

A palindrome is "a word or phrase that reads the same backwards as forwards, eg: madam".

William Ross Wallace 1819 - 1881 (Wallace was my Mum's maiden name so maybe I have some sort of illustrious ancestor?!) wrote "The Hand That Rocks The Cradle Rules The World". I've just printed it off as it really is rather beautiful (and John, it rhymes!!!)

Last of all...

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Dawn prayer.

It was late at night and God was ardent,

red hot and the window was open. If nothing

else my soft blue eyes cooled me down.


First I must tell the truth 'I love you'


'I love you'

'Don't tell me such awful things!' O what a disorder. My spirit is her spirit and I cannot run from myself!

It is you I have loved all this time...Our love will quiet man...

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Also by Danny Metcalfe:

Naked angel | Paradise witch. |

Human Wreckage

See their faces so jaded

With all the torturous barking they hear

Over and over and over again

Assaulting their innocent ears

Our mouths keep spitting out poison

There’s bile wrapped in every word

After all these years of affection

How did our love become so absurd?


And I hope, just hope

You sleep sound and safe in your single bed on this night

I kn...

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The Poetic Bond III

entry picture


THE POETIC BOND III, ISBN 978-1492384199, published 5 October 2013

Poetry of the MOMENT, from across the PLANET, poetry of our WORLD

Poetry that documents the Contemporary Zeitgeist

Poetry that explores, illuminates and examines the Human Condition


Poetry from


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Anthologyhuman conditionlovePoetic BondPoetrysocietyTrevor Maynard

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