Poetry Blogs (Jun 2013)

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Library Girl

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from my new poem book WOW! TATTOO MY BUTT read live in ring of bells, midd, june 2013   Library Girl

She worked in the local library part time.

And liked to read Harry Potter books.

She liked a lad who popped in fortnightly.

He was quiet just like her.

Her eyes sought him out whenever he was there.

A shyness inhibited her asking him out.

In time he stopped go...

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EMPIRE THREATENDED | Five Years | domestic | BACK O' PUB | Charmaine | poem out of my new book and link | LOST SOULS | The 7th City | MEAL TIME |

bombgal and guyinjuredlibrarylovetogetherwar

Sending a fairy 4 Miss

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I'm sending a fairy for Miss,

you see,

as she makes me happy,

but sometimes,

I worry about her,

as she gets a little depressed.

My fairy is called Tinkerbell,

oh, we all know that one !

She's come to give you one wish,

she advises,

you wish sensibly,

or Tinkerbell,

may get pissed,

you see. :)

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52 Hertz Comp - Time to Vote

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 Hi Folks - the closing date for 52 Hertz entries is today.  You can still enter if you tag your poem with 52 Hertz, as it will be picked up by the link I give you to all the entries.  The longer you leave it though, the less opportunity you will be giving people to read and vote on your work.

I've been delighted by the number and quality of the poetry submitted - and blown away by the diff...

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Also by Isobel:

52 Hertz - WOL Comp | Wondering | 52 Hertz - WOL Comp |



Deep within its depths

it strikes you like a chord


An aria known only to you


You follow along your path


for something to connect with


Another soul

binds you

until you break free


You are not like the others

They do not understand




are alone

feel the void

expand with every breath



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52 Hertz

We Stopped Dancing


Why don’t we dance anymore?

Is it because I’m just not easy for you?

If you can’t stand the heat get out of the kitchen

Move your feet to the exit

And come back when your feelings aren’t hurting


Is this not easy for you?

You can’t dance because your legs are broken in two

I’ll reopen the entrance when I see

You’ve paid your penance  

And like dust...

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broken hearted poem

Allowance is tops. Tidy tidy. I've attempted cake pops. Mmmm. Its time to talk.

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Also by Miss:

Ally/Fredy | (untitled) | I like looking at the mud. | Death trap. |

Untuned Radio (52 hertz)

Fucking hell, what is that noise?

Waves of unwanted interference

fading in and out again,

your absence is more of a presence.


Breathe deep, shake my woeful head

attempting to retune my brain

to eliminate buzzing static,

transmitting me to join the insane.


Am I crazy? Or are you thinking of me?


In the crazy way - we used to be?


© Ka...

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Also by Katy Megan Hughes:

Our Berlin Wall | Talking the Walk | Exit Stage Left | The Oak Tree IV |

52 Hertz

52 Hertz

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There’s a constant ache of a memory -

Your eyes, your smile and your hair;

I fell in love with a shadow,

Though, of course, there was nothing there.


The pulse of the thing was enormous

It beat in my head night and day

The piteous joke and pain of it

Was it only travelled one way.


So the pulse throbs on unabated

A secret cross t...

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Also by John Coopey:

The Poet Prauletariate | OWOMW | Cradle - A Triolet | The House of the Rising Damp | North Yorkshire Moors Railway | Living Doll - With Hair What Grows |

52 Hertz

Listen To My Call

(sorry -can't leave my stuff alone- had to edit this cos I wasn'y happy with it)


I’m sending out a signal, sending out a call

It’s for someone I knew years ago

That’s if she’s listening at all.


Silent years, lonely years are in between us now

So let us talk, let us bridge the gap

So softly, ask me how


Send me a message, send me a signal, I’ll be wai...

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Also by Steve:

My Notebook | Sounds Like Richard Burton | The Day Bobby Kennedy Died | It Doesn't Matter | Slow Time, Quick Time |

52 Hertz

Very Berry (or Some Ribes in Rhyme)

There's Blackberry, Blueberry, 
Northern, Bog and simple Bilberry
Lowbush, Highbush and Mountain Cranberry,
Chokeberry, Dewberry, Elderberry, Guavaberry

Bearberry, Cowberry, Crowberry, Foxberry, Gooseberry and Mooseberry

Huckleberry, Jostaberry, Lingonberry, Loganberry, Myrtle Blueberry, Pineberry, Black Raspberry, 
Red Whortleberry, Squashberry, Tayberry, Whinberry and Wimberry


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Just Another Load of Shite

Buy our V12 detonator

To propel you into oblivion’s arms

Try our online, interactive, user-friendly blogchat charms

Ingest our vicious, nutritious, delicious, pernicious foodstuff

Smile and feel so satisfied

Almost gratified,

Quite mollified

That you bought into our corporate dream

Our tiny scheme

Our blue sky thinking

All our strategic initiatives


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Also by Marksy:

The Template of my Being | Hatred Junkie | Living Life on the Ledge | (Not) Up a Height |

advertisingcarscorporatecredit cardsfoodhappinessinteractiveinternetlabellabelsmarketingshitshiteskullsmilingwallet

My Gracious Moon

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When the beautiful night unveils with darkness
I look for you in the starry sky above
And I find you glancing through the clouds
You feel so close yet so far, my love

Everything about your existence is amazing
The waning gibbous, the waxing half moon 
And the solitary crescent, I have always been praising
But I adore the most, the gracious full moon 

When everything shin...

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Also by Ankita:

O' beautiful wind | Thoughts | Sea and the Soul |

Last Pillar Standing

Last Pillar Standing


The people around me are collapsing

Falling in on themselves

Like the turrets of the castles I used to build

The coves of Cornwall, some summer childhood memory

The pillars of strength succumb to times

Smothering tide

And it all implodes

One after one they die

lives flash by in a slow motion tumble

Like a chimney stack would onc...

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52 Hertz

ThePoetry Spoke - Open Mic & Guest Jim Pearson

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While the 4th of July commemorates some minor incident in the Americas, ThePoetry Spoke, Open Mic poetry and Guest Musician Jim Pearson spin wildly into the bigger theater of Birkenhead!

Actually only part of that is true ;) 

Jim Pearson will be whimsical, bitter, sombre, wide-eyed and hopeful – thematically speaking. He will also be lyrically tasteful, low-key, uniquely English, satirical a...

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Also by Chris Co:

ThePoetry Spoke June 20th - Open mic & Guest | ThePoetry Spoke June - Open Floor & Guests - this Thusday! |

Northern Lights (54th)

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Northern Lights (54th)


The Northern Lights are ablaze tonight

And, oh, I’m feeling down.

You never could just treat me right,

You always played around.

This fallen angel’s lost his wings

And come, at last, to ground –

While all the while my world turns

And those Northern Lights go round.


The heavens glow with neon arcs

The skyline blazes brigh...

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Also by Ian Whiteley:

The Project | Before She Came (The Girl From Kansas) | Animals | Domestosterone | Needle Tracks |

childhood gangcity lightscoming homelove in a northern townreligionwakefield

rural get together in a very BIG shed

All gaudily dressed and whirling. Colours mingling kaleidoscopically. WHOOPINGS! WHOOPINGS!! WHOOPINGS! a contageon. Alcoholically released happinesses,laughter,and floor thudding noises,reverberating, trying to lift the roof of the barn.     Observing and wonderfully addicted,I watch people, coming up,and going down,human tunnels. The jig players,frenzie...

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Post-Romantic Bop

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"The better part of valor is discretion, in the which better part I have saved my life."


 Post-Romantic Bop

She avoids my eyes like there’s

Something she doesn’t want to say

I don’t know what it is

I’m not going to ask

It’s bad strategy

Either she’ll pull it up and spit it out

Or we’ll leave it like that

First it seemed incidental

Now it’s intentional ...

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bag of ferretsfree jazzshakespearethe tighten upthere was a time


The muse may strike you 
Like Cupid struck them with a lead arrow
Both will give a blunt tip
Of aversion
And desire to flee

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Also by c byrne:

Dental Records | Sahara (in progress) |

At ropes end



In final possession of his flesh,

the last exhalations of spraying

and swallowing of his own blood

writhes,thrashes about in the water.

Eyes frantic, adding to the ugliness

of pain and terror.


Oh! shining,dying mountain!

to where shall bring our pretentious requiems?

upon which part of the emptying sea

shall we cast down our false tears and...

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52 Hertz

Not like in the brochure

It wasn’t transparent in the photo,
in the brochure it was opaque
so why on earth did I trust it?
It was some mistake to make.
On the model it was a pashmina
laid across cool summer dress,
butterfly pattern not so busy,
it didn’t look such a mess.
Instead of draping on shoulders
on a balmy summer night,
I’d only wear it in winter coat  

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Also by Lynn Dye:

52 Hertz |

Where is he going

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Where is he going?

I see him sitting where he always sits

Sun rays blinking over both of us

we shake with the rumble

of our own lives, hands rest on knees

and nothing really changes.

Where is he going, I want to ask him

who is he running from?

And outside life fly’s by and nothing

really changes, hands rest on knees

and never ever wave for fear of change


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Also by Richard Alfred:

Spirit of the air | Empty deckchairs |


Im taking a stand,

never going to let you make me feel this way again,

and i'll hold you responsible for every word I say 


Cause you got me tripping,

on silent words,

things you refuse to say 


and not knowing what happened,

well it drives me insane,

off a cliff,

were going to fast,

but suddenly you stopped,

and i realised it was all just a...

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Also by emmy92:

Breaking all the rules |

The Last Song

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                 THE LAST SONG



Dim are the depths and deep are the dives

As he glides on his solitary way

Through forests of fronze and rainbowed reefs

Round rocks where the guillemots play



Past silvering sands and palm dappled beach

And out to the oceans embrace

He follows the path that his ancestors took

The last of his line and his race...

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52 Hertz

Mum's the word


Edward Snowden’s in the spare room

spies are hiding in the bin

a pack of Fleet Street’s finest

are struggling to get in

there’s paparazzi in the flowerbeds

and killers in the yard

And Ed thinks he’s in Cuba

it’s going to be hard

to explain this is a terrace

in a sleepy cul-de-sac

which may be nothing like Havana

but he’ll have to watch his back


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Also by steve pottinger:

No means... yes, Charles? |

Edward Snowden


The house stands empty breathing
A mournful sigh, its movement
The only sound as dusk muffles the day.
I look for traces of you amid the stillness.
Lipstick on a wine glass. Your lips.
A book fallen open. My eyes
Mirrored orbs reflecting words on a page.
In your clothes poured on the floor
I see your fluid form dancing.
A scattered pile of c...

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'proclamation of heart''

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in deep darkest
oceans of my own
i go left ,right
and dive down
lifting all veils
playing carefree game
indulging myself in depth
wondering in its delusion
what a proclamation of heart
it has learned One
and forgot all
uncanny flicker waves
give a war free peace
what a stillness in every move
i lift myself up
and dive more down
this mystical sensation
isn't my ...

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License to play

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License to play,

not get too serious,

just have lots of fun.

Losing you was too much to bear,

it even made me a little crazy !


So I applied my make up,

styled my hair,

dressed in my finest party frock,

wearing a smile to hide the sadness

and painted the town red.


I went night clubbing here,

night clubbing there,

drinking vodka,


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Never More To Shine

There was a man who understood,
everything he thought he could,
so sure was he that all was clear,
he didn't make time for someone dear.

And when at last she'd packed her case,
he realized he was losing more than face,
but change was then much too late it seems.
for her heart was broken by shattered dreams.

Years then passed by in such long procession,
his own life floundered ...

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Also by Dave Dunn:

Attention Dear David | Hell From Leather | Love Vines | Our Mark In History | Disgrace | In Search Of Honest Politicians |


Birds on High

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I saw birds

flying high

in the sky.


I wanted to

join them but

I can't fly.


Sometimes I feel

low, and I

just want to cry.


My smile, for

you see it

is fake.


Cause my soul

it surely

does ache.


I look for

a glimpse of

peace, ...

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Also by Shirley Smothers:

Haiku about Dad |


Where do dreamers go ?

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Where do dreamers go ?

when reality strikes it's final blow.

The penny drops,

the fairytales read lovingly by mum,

I believed every word,

she is a really good mum,

a fairy indeed,

used to tell me she was out with Father Christmas,

I'd swear from my bedroom,

I saw this,

then the day with the step family from hell,

they all laughed when I discovered Fat...

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Solstice & Summer Wayfarer

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Before I start, I just wanted to let you all know I've been long-listed to be Penguin's 'Summer Wayfarer' (see here) but in order to make it into the shortlist of ten I need public votes - I'd be keen to emphasise the relationship between poetry and nature and document my travels in verse!

You can watch my video and vote for me here, I'd really appreciate it (and the deadline is tomorrow! ...

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I keep arriving in the present moment

but whoops there it goes again.

Arriving doesn't stay put.

Is it impossible to really arrive in now?

As to that

I've not arrived at a conclusion


I am here.

It's somewhere I've arrived at

but orbits and galaxies and all space are moving.

Relatively. Relativity-ly.

So here is gone.

Whoops there it go...

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Also by Dave Bradley:

Men Who Hit Women | The Introvert |


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The road is better now

Climbing from Fornovo

Leaving behind the river

And the valley’s flatness

It’s surface is smoother

Than the winding track

That stirs my memory


At a certain point

The driver pulls over

Waiting for a colleague

To arrive on the down bus

After they exchange places

Our ascent continues

Towards B...

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The Moon In Its Glory

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How beautiful this night is! The Moon appeared in all its glory. The biggest moon, the brightest light Will hide in mystery the love story.   Rose Moon, Full Strawberry Moon Winks at the lovers on Earth Marvelous songs the angels croon. Admire this event is worth.   This amazing and inspiring sight The watchers can tonight enjoy. Supermoon won’t g...

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Also by Larisa Rzhepishevska:

The Memorial Day | The Lonely Willow |

full moon

Signs of Recognition

Signs of Recognition


He’s busy watching all the titles

Each one linked like a slow

Train to Hull,

     But they keep

Rasping and grating,

Faking the cargo within,

Not many would he -

For a free meal

Or drink of nutrition,


He knew,

He knew he was alone

Like others who

Thought that peace would come.


     All alone,


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Also by Noetic-fret!:

THE RADIO TELEGRAPHIST | The Whispered Spite | The Greyhound |


By the dull electric lamp

arose a vision so intense,

undimmed by squalor, stench and damp

in that Polish prison camp.


Emblems of their offence,

pink triangle and yellow star,

tattoo just below the sleeve

a hunger for tomorrow,

for reprieve. A hope that 

what began in sorrow

would not end in grief.


A fa...

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holocausthomosexualityjewish identitylove

June Collage Poem

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True tale of invitation at an early hour,

To rhyme or not to rhyme?!


Are we antique if we park where indicated?

Teddies and teapots, soft sleep suits, downy duvets


This is one passage that I will pass


Antique books; antique folk; antique buildings;

And the greatest antique of all – poetry.


A giant poo stuck in the loo

Place is now and the ...

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Also by Stockport WoL:

June Meeting moved to the 17th | Arts Trail Twitter Account |

Collage PoemStockport

Humanist Funeral Rap

So I asked if the Humanist would give my address:

I'd be careful to avoid words like God and Bless,

'cause to get these sentences humanely dispatched

they must pass his censorship without any catch.

Could I speculate upon What Comes After?

I felt like the bloke in that book by Kafka,

on trial for offences that weren't made explicit

and in fear that the secular police...

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Half way through the year of the travel bong

With nicotine cordial-

A nursing tool for a caterpillar-


I realise that cigs haven’t been around that long

And perhaps like corsets

They will soon become a fetish


But at the root of it all

Plants have devious ways-

And as the cane and the bean

Still make their filthy way

Around the world


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Wrapped up in ideals and a uniform,

Less than apt for one so unique,

The roads have wound and conspired to take you back,

To far before you learned to speak


Don’t let the surroundings hush out the voice inside,

Keep striving with your ends in sight,

Have only the time you need to realise,

There’s no stronger picture,

Whatever it would be for,

Than t...

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Also by Joshua Van-Cook:

The City |



(A full explanation of the mystery surrounding 52 hertz)


It`s attested scientifically


That that fish I`d had last night for tea

(Battered so deliciously)

Had now become a part of me

Sat here writing poetry.


(Sitting – as I was wont to do –

Poohing and peeing on the loo

Penning verses earnestly

To Lily, who`d abandoned me).

And down...

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Also by Harry O`N eill:

Priorities | THE STORY OF THE POEM |

52 hertz


Itchy eyes get claustrophobic
And crawl out of their cradle skin,
Down copper and carbon conductive tracks
That refract, through a Prism.
On through invisible fire walls of steel machines,
A thousand eyes, packed inside, one computer screen.

Crashing through Windows like sun light,
Juicing Apples, and goggling your Google Plus.
The paradime online, access anytime,
Free ride fo...

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Perfect Day

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Just one perfect day,

is all we had,

till life turned sour

and things went bad.


Walking hand in hand,

surrounded by oak trees,

flowing streams,

squirrels playing,

birds courting.


My knight in shining armour,

you said,

charging on your white steed,

to defend my honour,


I truly loved you.


Reaching our dest...

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My pond


Subtle noise
I Try to poise my thoughts.
These ripples in my pond of thinking are restless and stretch vast across the water of memory loudly.
For ripples, surely should be quiet?
I Probably should stop skipping stones across it.
Since this pond,  it may not be wide enough to ever contain these ripples.
Certainly not deep enough
 to sink a stone.
Or is The ...

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Also by Amy McCawley:

The curse of optimism | I am |

Sun Dogs

Born luminous in bands of dactyl light
beginning, I am  -
fresh upon your eyelids,
the genesis of ambition.
I claim the day; your inseparable calendar,
pearl cupid thoughts;
what will be, will be
in the design of oyster paint, one morning promises.
Impaled, my wet lank claws disquieted,
stroking y...

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Also by Marianne Daniels:

Paris Falls |

Heat Wave Dream

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Summertime, here I am waiting just for you,

Cloudy skies are making me feel oh so blue,

Summertime, capture me and steal my heart away,

Warm me with a golden ray of beautiful sunshiny day,

Summertime, knock on my door and hit me one more time,

Intoxicate me and fill my glass with dandelion wine,

Summertime on the streets and the living is so easy,

Give me all you got...

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Also by Tom Doolan:

Empty Shell |


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Spring arrives and blossoms burst

As green shoots sprout and quench their thirst

On sunshine from the sky up high

A joy to see and breathe a sigh

Be-petalled stars, beads of dew

Nature’s gift is flourished anew


From winter’s dearth, a colour explosion

Emerging buds nurtured with fruitful devotion

High in the branches filled with birdsong

Laden wit...

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Also by Starfish:

This Crested King | How Absurd |



Where are they?

They disappeared in a broader picture

Denied access to

Think of the first wave,

The right to vote

The suffrage?

Think of the second wave,


In the midst of patriarchy

Take up her pen in defence of her sex


Think of the third wave

Served to hinder the repeated occurrence

Of the second...

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Sentinel Sycamore

If you stood in a forest, you would be, as insignificant, as a Worker Bee.

If gathered were you, with friends, in a copse, the beauty of you, would surely be lost.

If you lined a roadside, i would find, as i swiftly passed, i'd leave you behind.


Though there you perch, high on your lonely hill, a solitary figure, rooted still.

More unique than all your kind, sloped and ben...

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