Poetry Blogs (Mar 2013)
Sometimes it’s better when you don’t have to love,
Easier when she just doesn’t give a fuck,
She said I didn’t play the pornstar, and that’s a good start,
But tonight we’ll agree neither of us have a heart.
And like a weight that’s been relieved,
Like new lungs still waiting to breathe,
There’s no pressure, or so I made myself believe.
So in the morning you can just get up and lea...
Sunday 31st March 2013 8:39 pm
Also by Wez Jefferies:Support the troops | Free Shaker Aamer | One for the couple at the back |
DISPIRITING CLOUDS THAT
ENSHROUDED US IN TWILIGHT
BENEATH THE TREES OF LILAC
NATURES PERFUME FILLS THE AIR
AS WE WALK TOGETHER
HAND IN HAND
ALONG THE PATH OF LOVE
LONGING ,YEARNING FOR
EACH OTHERS TOUCH
ENSHROUDED IN TWILIGHT
WAITING FOR THE DARKNESS
TO HIDE US, ALONG THE PATH OF LOVE
THE MOON IS HIDDEN BY THE CLOUDS
DARKNESS FALLS AND LOVE BEGINS
Sunday 31st March 2013 4:36 pm
Also by BRIAN EVANS:SILENCE | NOSTALGIA | LOVE IS BORN | LOVE NEVER DIES |
It’s has always been easier to slay us
With your obedient insecurities
Cheerfully devoted to poetic doom
You speculate, create and anticipate
A wheel of fortune that spins in your tomb
Lashing and flaying against happiness
You claw and spit against the lid
Of exhausted insight and recognition
Crying out against comprehension
With a scream of lies and unravell...
Sunday 31st March 2013 10:26 am
Also by Katy Megan Hughes:Nesting | Suspicion | Equinox | The Cottage II |
I miss your face, I miss your smile,
That look you gave, when you were around,
The memories are here to stay
Now you're gone, I just feel empty
I scan the contents of the page
And keep ticking off the list,
I hear the wind outside
Whispering your name
Halfway down the stairs I stop
Listening to the tick of the clock
In the lonely air of the hall...
Saturday 30th March 2013 11:04 pm
Also by Hazel Connelly:Sext at Sixty | A Curry Sir.. |
Beside the motorway
the burrowed grassworlds of scurriers
are always open for business.
The trees above them involuntarily dance,
wafted mostly by juggernaut displaced air.
For some of the luckier foragers
trees are their umbrellas
from too much sun,rain or Kestrel-
that clear,sharp eyed,wondrous,ethereal,fantailed drummer
seeking his fayre
Saturday 30th March 2013 6:25 pm
the coldest nights are the quietest
though the litter chatters around my feet
like the arctic teeth of an almost corpse
and the gas settles close to home
glassy in it’s welcome
the trees, taut, still brittle of bone,
clench every desperate sinew
as fleshless fingers on a wintered birch
gnarl a carpal tunnel to the council’s moon
Saturday 30th March 2013 4:31 pm
Also by Paul Sands:revolution runs better on stolen gasoline | cleansing the orphanage with fire and prayer | bowie (if you didn't know) | Free | Mountebank | This Pig Society | For Cornelia (after viewing ‘Neither From Nor Towards’ then visiting the Norfolk coast) | Ruined |
Saturday 30th March 2013 3:55 pm
Also by Alain English:Paper Tiger Poetry March 15th |
My very first book.
Helping to give birth to imagination,here
above and assisting largely printed words
gradually coming to life,forming thoughts.
A very neccessary stepping stone
filled with enough to enthrall any three year old as I was then
and shape my way to roads ahead.
Roads I was to discover had stories
of their ow...
Saturday 30th March 2013 12:43 pm
put down that paper
full of hypocrisy and lies
why let Murdoch indoctrinate you?
you are not one of the one percent
not for you their deceit
their toxic measures
to turn man against man
woman against woman
when united we must stand
against our oppressors!
dailies rile hatred and poison
aiding and abetting ...
Saturday 30th March 2013 11:48 am
Also by Lynn Dye:Snowy Window |
Are you up today,
or are you down,
are you wearing a smile,
or a frown,
are you average this evening,
or simply fragile ?
Both my poets,
present as clowns.
One young, only just beginning,
and ever so giving,
one's stole my soul,
one's heightened my senses,
I hope none of us part.
One my harshest critic,
one my sh...
Saturday 30th March 2013 5:27 am
Thoughts are things
Not things that disappear when your mind is closed
Or a wave of energy that fades away
Oh no, thoughts are things
They’re here to stay
So when I see you face to face
I take that vision place to place
And when I’m tired and sleeping fast
That thought is with me in my dreams
Because thoughts are things
They’re here to stay
Saturday 30th March 2013 4:00 am
Also by Steve:The King of the Garden | TV |
In The Frame
We met in an antique shop,
while you were sifting through
and tarnished gilt.
I was new and bright -
just what you needed in your life
at that time of regrets
So we went home together
and you placed me on a pedestal.
The centre of a universe
that orbited your soul.
I put my arms
Friday 29th March 2013 10:45 am
Also by Ian Whiteley:Forget Me Not | Encounter (This Motorway's Mine) | The Hoodoos | From Virginia | The Trade Name | Copernicus’ Commentariolus | Black Widow | A Step Towards Winter |
I always felt it would be a game,
between you and I.
Cat and mouse I thought,
me the cat,
playing the chase,
never leaving your side,
wrong was I.
It turned out to be chess we play,
you chose black,
leaving me with white,
you being from the dark side
and I from the light..
I moved first,
drawing us close,
Friday 29th March 2013 4:09 am
Those walls could have been
A hundred feet tall,
No, a thousand feet
With every inch taken like breath,
And I’m sure the humility behind them,
The exhaustion to climb them,
Would take the deepest intake of air,
No walls knew this man,
No walls could keep
Boundaries of forfeiture,
To see the stars tumble
Friday 29th March 2013 1:23 am
Also by Noetic-fret!:On Being Here | Middle Eastern Man | Stop! | Hysteria | Travelling | Falling On A Crutch | Through Broken Glass |
Prime Ministers Walpole, Compton, Pelham read this from a book
P-Holles, Cavendish, Stuart, Greville, and Wentworth take a look
Pitt, Fitzroy, North, Petty, Bentinck makes you think
Perceval, Jenkinson Pitt younger I think I need that drink
Addington, Grenville, Canning, Robinson, Wellesley nowhere done
Grey, Lamb, and Peel, Russell reciting this for fun
Stanley, Gordon, Temple,...
Friday 29th March 2013 12:26 am
UK GIN DEPENDENCE PARTY
We’re not fascists, are we, dear?
Bring that bottle over here.
Now. Where was I? Enoch Powell?
Sod this irritable bowel!
Do you play goff? Come down the club.
Just a snifter, lovely grub……
What, no blazer? Borrow mine.
Chin chin. Maggie, ‘79!
Now. Where was I? Nigel Farage.
Dear! More bottles in the garage.
Thursday 28th March 2013 9:53 pm
Ah, the shame of ill-placed modesty!
Perhaps we should be satisfied that at least part of the whole name remains, unlike many street names which have submitted to the puritanism of local councils. In York, for example, it’s even been sanitised to Grape Lane.
Three cheers, then, for the people of Wakefield who protested and successfully thwarted the renaming to “Tittle Cott”...
Thursday 28th March 2013 9:51 pm
Also by John Coopey:Chris Huhne | Paint It Beige | 50 Shades of Earl Grey | Ollie the Otter | To Munt - A Barnsley Conjugation | The Dog's Bollocks | WonderBale |
The final passage of man’s impact
Stones won and worked from a gritty rock face
Once made a shelter, a base, a home
Long abandoned and without form
A vegetated hump on the moor edge reveals
Tilted on its clean worked facet
A stone sink in ashlar remains whole
Testimony to lore
Cleanliness’ was next to godliness
In the high lonely Pennines
Thursday 28th March 2013 4:51 pm
Also by Graham Ramsden:Castlerigg Stone Circle | Thirteen Shouting Americans | Watershed This Morning | The Beck Stone |
The exterior appears alive
The interior's brown bread
The smile smiles but the head's mashed
H'orderves shattered, tattered and scattered
Over a kaleidoscope ocean swell
The bell tolls out of control like a fire engine on heat
Beating faster, harder, threatening to burst the ticker
On the B of the bang
Badly drawn curtains
Expose the writing...
Thursday 28th March 2013 2:10 pm
I thought this afternoon's flower of
romance couldn't blossom any farther
but then you sent me an email telling
me all about your mum. I'm not afraid
to admit it sweetheart: I filled up over
your memories of her teaching your dad
to make jam; they must have loved
each other very much indeed.
Thursday 28th March 2013 1:05 pm
Also by Richie Muster:Our Sacred Day (April Is So Far Away) |
Don't go looking for a silver lining in this piece, there isn't one.
Get onto 'The Silver Line' if you're feeling full of impotent pain
and/or rage about entering into old age; there are people there
working without a wage who'll listen to you and offer help and/or
advice. (0800 328 8888)
I phoned them last Saturday (March 9th actually) after suffering a
Thursday 28th March 2013 12:51 pm
Also by Philip Fletcher:FOR MISERABLE FAILURES EVERYWHERE. | Ogling. |
on a hill.
With a friend.
Once a lover.
The wind bites,
and the mud larks,
at our boots.
I am quiet.
in someone's bed.
Far away from here.
It begins to sleet.
My eyes sting.
My friend laughs.
And I start to cry.
Thursday 28th March 2013 11:07 am
Also by Ralph Dartford:A Question Concerning Daphne | Like Montgomery Clift |
Life's colours are painted by the brush our brain cells create.
The Golgi, "a neuron in the cerebral cortex with short dendrites
and with either a long axon or a short axon
that ramifies in the grey matter."
I hope to turn my grey matter into a rainbow,
each strand of light connecting to my heart's valves.
Curiosity - a humans speciality,
our chef's signature d...
Wednesday 27th March 2013 6:16 pm
The down time creeps up like old Bolton smog
soaking into my flesh
and trickling black treacle
that thickens from within the mesh
of chaos, thoughts, decisions
crossroads and dead ends.
And before long the gloom of the down time
becomes regular time and time stands still.
When I’m up I smile and glow
Like the summer solstice
but when the do...
Wednesday 27th March 2013 5:32 pm
Also by Martin Bailey:The Membrane of Your Soul | Lycanthropy | Of Pirates and Poets |
Is that you? In the mirror.
Is that you? In the plaster.
On the wall. Fading away.
Is the heartbeat, so disjointed,
that you will fade, and fade away?
Has your body, completed changing?
Does the blood vapourize, then decay?
And is your father waiting?
Is your mother waiting too?
And your husband, and your husband,
Is he waiting, there for you?
Wednesday 27th March 2013 1:38 pm
Looking at the gravestone, from unimaginable heights,
Shows less and less of the fight you put up to avoid turning out the light.
All those maybe's and mights,
Like an equation you just couldn't work out quite right.
Is that you?
I threw the question to the stone,
My fingers slowly glossing the golden lettering; still alone.
Is that... You? Cold bone and structure lo...
Tuesday 26th March 2013 6:16 pm
Also by Joy Claypool:AND FEAR IS NOT YOUR FRIEND | MEET THE PIG | TONIGHT |
Withered flowers fastened to a wasting bench,
Its plaque and pickled paint are weathered long.
The buckled slats curl flecks on harshest winter's freeze.
Where age defies intent to which it did belong.
As passers-by whom in their daily cues entrenched,
They, wrapped in woolen shields, look blindly on
And notice not the broken petals on the breeze,
Nor sense the echo of a parted an...
Tuesday 26th March 2013 11:51 am
Also by Simon Austin:Humanity Lost | Waves (A Final Letter Home) |
And it turned copper in my hands. Now I'm stuck. And expensively mobile. You look good in a wig, Why do you ask?
Tuesday 26th March 2013 8:43 am
Dawn December day.
Machine peacefully sleeps.
Kept warm, mission time, Norway bound.
Snow, fjords, mountains.
Cockpit, aboard, checks,
rise, feathery clouds.
Fine machine, woman.
Exquisite cameras, spy on Nazi’s Christmas.
Thousand mile trip, freedom.
Monday 25th March 2013 7:34 pm
Also by NICK ARMBRISTER:STORM CHASER | Zombie | Thun Lit | Skull City | Dawn and Dusk (for Anneke van Giersbergen) | Swim in the Sea | NATALIE SERIES POEMS/BOOK |
Great poetry and acoustic music
Tuesday - Tomorrow! 26th March- 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
Write Out Loud's - Dave Morgan
Dave's poetry leaps through kitchen sink dramas, c...
Monday 25th March 2013 7:07 pm
Also by Chris Co:Think TANK! | Some Politicians |
When the air is clear,
Not quite as blue
And every other problem
When the demon lit
Calms the hue
And allows another point of view-
Then I’ll grind the shells
Beneath my shoe
And I’ll hope it’s not too late
And worth the wait.
Get some bin bags.
Monday 25th March 2013 12:04 pm
My father's generation was lost to give freedom to the world
Into the maelstrom of World War One he and his kind were hurled.
When the carnage was over and the survivors staggered back
There was little here left for any brave man-jack.
And when World War Two was declared over twenty years on
That generation was called upon and once more to war had gone...
To free the peo...
Monday 25th March 2013 11:14 am
Also by M.C. Newberry:SPLIT INFINITY | THE PRIMROSE - a reprint | PAPER CHASE |
Ripples in the water. Forever bouncing. The transformation from Sea to Land. The water. a Constant Surge. Pulsating Tides. those Building Blocks. Keeping a foundation grounded. The motive behind the pen.
Are we all just words in a pictionary born again to have meaning? The reality I belong to ...
Monday 25th March 2013 5:06 am
Monday 25th March 2013 1:29 am
What light across the cloudless bay
Falls placid on thy peerless face
Relected on the now calm sea?
That in its rage did toss in
Tidal abandon the wreckage
Of the human condition cast
Recklessly from the shore.
Do not despair nor fling thy dreams
From this vapid spit which clings by
Wiry Marram to this wretched
Isle, detritus ringed on littoral
Monday 25th March 2013 12:39 am
Also by Andy Ainsworth:Dreams | Morning |
enchanting armies of harmony...Phalanxes of rhythmic phoenixes.......remixing life to art art to life dark to light death to life.......music is our sanctuary music is our life to art art to life the art of life is the heart of life...... lifes A cycle like sum hyped CD or 12 inch vinyl spiral tribes thrive.........revolutionary recital....like breath music’s vital enlightened or suicida...
Saturday 23rd March 2013 3:03 pm
My performance of "Thomas", "Fishmonger", "The Creation of Beans", and "Puppy Dreams" at Pop Up Poetry in March. Thanks to Janice Windle for making the video!
Saturday 23rd March 2013 1:58 pm
I am wasted and all strung out,
Don’t have the voice to shout,
The lonesome blues have gotten to me,
I am hooked on you - can’t you see,
It’s an addiction - a terminal infection,
I need a shot of you - a lethal injection,
My slow burning fuse is about to ignite,
I just can’t find the strength to fight,
Climbing the walls as they close in,
It’s my punish...
Saturday 23rd March 2013 12:00 pm
Also by Tom Doolan:Spring Has Sprung | Love Has Crucified Me | Tea Total Infusion | Coffee Mate |
''Is that all that
there is there-
''is that all
that there is?''
all that is there-
is all that there is.
words and foto(self-portrait) Tommy Carroll
Saturday 23rd March 2013 11:48 am
Also by Tommy Carroll:Christianity and other myths | Cohen |
click click click Thursdizzle 13th January 2011 7:16 pm (first posted Wednesdizzle 12th January 2011 11:53 pm)
That was a funky-ass big-ass house
Came down up tha sky
And up in tha end it fell on me
Just mah sparkly Nikes ta show
Saturday 23rd March 2013 11:40 am
I stood in the tall mirror
on the border of puberty,
not long before i had learned to see myself.
Glass against foil, a simple trick.
Even though the foil was peeling,revealing itself plain
in something better
and i looked right in to the point where they say He hides
deep inside the ripples of glass
and i squinted my eyes
Saturday 23rd March 2013 3:51 am
And so, The true voice emerged, Out of worthless words, Blurted by the herds, Who claimed to care, But only shared, Whats left of a third, The equivalent of a turd, Compared to my worth, Disturbed, When I reversed the cycle of the absurd, To turn, And witness the stern, Of people who never earnt, Or learnt, What I originaly yearned, And now the back burns, The bums of those return...
Friday 22nd March 2013 11:25 pm
Rivers carry debris until floods release ghosts
So the dead can make deposits and withdrawals
Planks, fallen branches, corpses of fish, fowl, mammals and dreams
Become ghost ships carrying organisms to new destinations
With water as medium the dead and the undead sally forth as equals
Good River Feeling Bad
Her voice is deep water
Though she’s too shallow ...
Friday 22nd March 2013 6:25 pm
Also by J. Otis Powell‽ (with interrobang):Trapped Inside |
Five ebooks of verse by Stanski... available for FREE from Smashwords...!
And one that will cost a nominal fee...
Friday 22nd March 2013 10:23 am
Jostling egos demand a hearing.
Who is listening?
Scribblers desperate to win, to be read.
Here is my book it's only three pounds
to buy, I wrote some at
workshops, more on a weekend course, and
did you hear
I won a competition, and
I was second in a slam, and
I had two guest spots last month, and
Friday 22nd March 2013 7:13 am
It was by chance, or I would like to think destiny, that I happened to notice glossy postcard sized advertisements sprawled across the faculty workroom table with BILLY COLLINS written in rather large, noticeable white capital letters against a solid charcoal background. Detailes were in much smaller print written in both white and red surrounding his name. My heart must have skipped a few beat...
Friday 22nd March 2013 6:12 am
Without having sought you,
love turned into skin and dwelt among us,
you and I,
just one world
I see you with my soul,
you give me warmth, your hands assure me,
your words come to me
and gifted me with a new life
Nothing was spared!
I know that you love me and from so much love,
we’ll continue to live for our love,
because our ...
Friday 22nd March 2013 12:02 am
Also by Noris Roberts:When the yearning comes... |
The twenty first of March!
It’s a rainbow’s arch as such.
Equinox in springs
World Poetry Day brings.
It’s not an accidental event.
It gives this day a certain content.
A content to all those who can fly
And to all those who new things try.
A poetic word is an art.
It comes straight from the poet’s heart.
It gives a poetic word a chance...
Thursday 21st March 2013 8:47 pm
Also by Larisa Rzhepishevska:I Am a Woman | World Sleep Day | March Is In Love |
On the Shelf
He called me damaged goods,
One of the undateables.
A worthy cause for charity,
But not someone you’d
Ever want as a girlfriend,
A live-in-lover, or a wife.
It hurt but he was right.
I traced the lonely line
Of my scar,
Sad that it would
Never be kissed.
The best thing seemed to
Be to turn from music
I could no longer dance t...
Thursday 21st March 2013 5:27 pm
Also by Jacqueline Pemberton:Moving House |