See What Thinking Brings
The impenetrable logic that wriggles
its strong bright hands before my eyes
distracting and distancing
drawing my gaze away
withdrawn from simple knowledge
complicated and confused
I lay still
on the soft floor
where it's safe
Thoughts gushing through narrow corridors
bust pipes and crossed wires, releasing
the past and the present slip further apart
all memories lock the...
Friday 31st January 2014 7:32 pm
Also by Tom:In These Pictures I Have Taken | Forest | The Quiet Ones |
Tales from the bucket
I am a man in constant sorrow
I am constantly opposing every constant in my life
there are times when I am happy
I have even raised a smile
but that is just a consequence
of a constant
Mostly I sit and amuse myself by
continuously pressing the self destruct button
I do this in the v...
Friday 31st January 2014 4:36 pm
Also by vinty:Tales from the bucket | Tales from the bucket | When does it end? | No one |
OUT OVER THE FIELDS
OUT OVER THE FIELDS
Out over the fields a pair of crows circle and dive amongst the hedgerows and green grass.
A watery sun casts its watery face through the spring clouds as the birds disappear from view.
Eighty years ago it was a similar story as two manmade hawks of the air battle to the death; the fields aren’t green but a shell-holed hell with muddy trenches filled with wretched...
Friday 31st January 2014 4:07 pm
Also by NICK ARMBRISTER:CELEBRATING HARVEST TIME | Brutal Not Comfort | A BREAK IN THE OLD ROUTINE | GOTHIC STORM | FACE A GUN | Celebrate: Anne Marie Hurst | £4.88 | BEER, GLORIOUS BEER | ANGELICA STRIKES | MARCH OT TECHNOLOGY | MISSING |
Fell off the wagon
There’s no going back,
Furred over days
Spent in misty rooms
Filled with acrid
Skunk fuelled fumes
Of heady dreams
Thicker it seems
It isn’t a dream
When the needle slides
Under the skin
Where the demons hide
Leaving a red spot
A tiny dot
And you nod your head
Friday 31st January 2014 4:05 pm
Also by Pete Slater:A STRANGER CALLS |
I prove myself favoured in comedy,
Not even consciously,
Aside from my own wit
There is a clown of a protégé,
Someone for those to howl at,
Someone to grin at
As they pass my ill gait
Walking streets no longer caring,
And I will never forgive
Never forgive the worst
‘They’ made of me!
My guess is, ...
Friday 31st January 2014 1:48 am
Also by Noetic-fret!:The Great Illusion |
Should you go in the spare room, you wonder
as we lie here in bed together
so that I can be left to slumber
as it seems you’re coughing forever.
Loving affection is really our thing
so I suggest you take a dose
of that tasty cough medicine
which you have been keeping close.
So you take my advice with a swig
and hey, you’ve stopped coughing – yes!
but now you...
Thursday 30th January 2014 8:10 pm
Also by Lynn Dye:Democracy is dead | Second of January |
Henry the Eighth
(Invited by No. 1 daughter to write a poem for the kids in her class studying the Tudors)
King Henry spent his entire life
Searching for the perfect wife;
He tried them big, he tried them small,
He tried out six wives all in all.
The first one’s name was Aunty Cath
He said, “I fink you’re ‘avin a laugh!”
So he got rid of her, of course
“’Ere’s six quid and your di...
Thursday 30th January 2014 7:35 pm
Also by John Coopey:Marvo, Leo and Flo | The Time I Saved Western Democracy from Communism | MORRIS 1800 | The Telemarketer | Who Wants to be a Millionaire? | Bucket List | THE BALLAD OF THE 'OSTAGE SITUATION | WHERE DO YOU GO TO, MY LOVELIES? | Ode to Woy |
No finish line
Tied to the cavities of the night,
life becomes written tears in my eyes;
every part of my body has its wound
and I unceasingly wander in the aggregate pitfalls of a fog
Before me the cross of loneliness turns to me,
pass painful valleys,
there’s nothing left standing
only dents in my soul
Between fear and courage,
cold and misery tally each step,
Thursday 30th January 2014 1:05 am
what is the world coming to when...
Man United beat bottom of the league 2-0 at home and everyone's making a big deal about it
Spider's that have been here for years suddenly become killers
Jim Davidson " From Zero to Hero "
People find out a lot of beef was horse meat really but still buy ready meals
Wednesday 29th January 2014 11:56 pm
Also by SPACEGHOST:Just a bit of mountain fun |
At sixteen years I bought myself the finest birthday prize,
I bought a motorcycle and despite my mothers cries,
I set out to the open roads spurred on by youth and zest,
Through summers never ending it was better than the best.
God knows I took my chances though the roads were traffic free,
In nineteen sixty life was rich the world was just for me,
Wednesday 29th January 2014 10:28 pm
Also by Ian Gant:OFF |
BLACK BLOOD - a poem for the Great War
My father survived the Western Front and the Italian Front in the Great War, promoted from the ranks to
2nd lieutenant, 1st Battalion, Duke of Cornwall's Light Infantry, attached to the 5th Division. He was in
uniform again for WW2 and died aged 50 of TB when I was five. I have a book about the 5th Division left
by him, containing some handwritten recollections of that terrible conflict...
Wednesday 29th January 2014 4:37 pm
Also by M.C. Newberry:FALLEN ANGEL - a song | SO - WHAT CHANGES? | PAYING YOUR WAY | CON |
Poem: Waiting on You
When floating in the sea of despair,
never give up hope, for the Lord is already there.
For in the time of your darkest hour,
you can tap into His Dunamis power.
Addressing Earth's challenges requires a key -
As a child of His, you must yourself see.
To assure that your earnest prayers are heard,
you need to hide in your heart His Holy Word.
For out of your mouth, His Word you should speak...
Wednesday 29th January 2014 4:30 pm
Also by Joseph J. Breunig 3rd:Poem: As a Joint Heir with Thee | Poem: My Soul Now Sings | 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: Grace and Love | Poem: Exit Strategy | Poem: Daily Bread |
The Kissing Gate
Lay bare foot crisp on roasted stems
of wild grasses, dust trod blades
once herald of lush pasture soon
now fallen heroes of the storm.
Strewn before each stride performed
not noted save the random bur
or hidden needle of the pine
bows lying over path by path.
Inviting all to gates below
where creaks have lived these forty years
escaping every visit's turn
Tuesday 28th January 2014 9:24 pm
Also by Christopher Dawson:What comes around could be avoided. | Who's afraid of the Goat | aiM in the opposite direction. | Bar none | Think again. | ص. ممنوع, محظور, محرم | Lady of the White Mountain land. |
Of Lilith and Anthony - front cover preview...
Here’s a preview of the front cover for Of Lilith and Anthony. It’s a collection of narrative poetry, a story of possession and sexual obsession told through verse and photography.
I’ve been posting poems from the collection but soon it will be available on amazon as an e-book to begin with. Will keep you posted on when this will happen…
Tuesday 28th January 2014 6:26 pm
Also by Katy Megan:The Hierophant's Castle |
Women are also....
...out there, outhinking, outwitting
Outclassing, outplaying, outperforming.
Out of jobs they ought to have
Outrunning, outmanoeuvring, outsmarting.
Out shopping for outfits.
Out of their minds.
Out on the town.
Out of sight gorgeous.
Tuesday 28th January 2014 5:56 pm
Also by Dave Bradley:Women are.... | Tory Attitudes | The Shop of Days | Building and hiding |
Fracking (Cinquain #1)
Fracking (Cinquain #1)
opens gaping fissure.
The whole process needs inspection.
Monday 27th January 2014 10:37 pm
Also by Ian Whiteley:Cheap Whore | Grievous Angel | baptised | The Old School Tie | Thirty Plus Years In An Open Necked Shirt (audio version) |
When It Disappears
photo credit: Bill Cottman
When It Disappears
I love music when it’s searching
When the sounds aren't sure
When one note connects
Like family and new resolutions
Form through extempore solos
I love music when it’s copulating
When it’s out there on edge
When the Cats
Playing it are out there
Reaching for blue-green-lavender
Monday 27th January 2014 3:24 pm
Also by J. Otis Powell‽ (with interrobang):Forgetting Home (or how can I forget you if you won't go away) | Imamu | Blues Jeans | Publishing Partnership |
There’s a breathless fear in the mind of Gove,
Laws to make, and the polls to win;
For the ruling class in his party strove
To instil an obedient zeal therein.
And it’s not for the sake of a ribboned coat,
Or the selfish hope of a season’s fame,
But a series of words that you learn by rote:
If you don’t understand… it’s all the same.
Monday 27th January 2014 1:05 pm
Also by Marnanel Thurman:Dogged Scribblings | Epiphany | Nine and sixty ways |
You mourn old photographs:
‘I was pretty then, and I never knew it.’
I’ve just filled an album
with our last pieces of paper
before digital took over:
It includes my mother’s 80th birthday
(she just missed out on 90).
A fabulous, tearful, joyous Sikh wedding,
dancing to the bhangra boy’s beat,
the marriage lasting little more
than a year. That holiday in Sorrento...
Monday 27th January 2014 9:22 am
Also by Greg Freeman:Plain Man's Valentine |
"Peaceful Ukraine, Peaceful Maidan"
Peaceful citizens in the peaceful Ukraine.
Peaceful hard hats on the peaceful heads,
Peacefully breaking the slavers chain
Peacefully fight and protest.
If one is not peaceful, there’s no place here.
Peaceful slogans and peaceful “Hooray”
Peacefully kicking without a fear
Those who happened to fall on the way.
All is so peaceful, so white and so fluffy.
Sunday 26th January 2014 11:11 am
Also by Larisa Rzhepishevska:My Long-Suffering Ukraine | Tomorrow | Love Has Burned |
Dragging my Life to School
Dragging my Life to School
Dragging my life to school
The sum …
Of my suffering
A blackout board
Learning the parts of the body quickly
From blows that went in
Dragging my life from school
A plate in the air
And thankfully a knife that didn’t go ...
Saturday 25th January 2014 5:57 pm
Don't take your Elephant to School
Don’t take your elephant
And tie it’s ears outside
Into the bicycle rack.
Don’t take your elephant
And encourage it
To steal other patient’s food.
Don’t your elephant
Let it sleep
Let it roam across fields,
But most importantly
Keep it away from Tarzan
Who’ll drive them crazy
Like Harry Potter
Rewritten by Stephen King.
Saturday 25th January 2014 11:52 am
A new video
I've made this great new video of the title poem of my free ebook.
Saturday 25th January 2014 8:49 am
The Fall of Oscar Wilde
The Fall of Oscar Wilde
Low hanging fruit, a family feud,
a misspelled note, a libel suit,
mock indignation and ire,
to please your lover liar,
a bullet made for you to fire.
Sling enough mud they say....
Sling enough mud, it sticks,
exactly what the Marquis did!
Like you he paid the boys in gifts
for services rendered, to lift the lid
off your desir...
Friday 24th January 2014 11:51 am
Also by Jonnie Falafel:Scraping The Barrel (A Villanelle) |
Her face was peppered with white powder,
The prouder part of her slender frame
Lay still, a weary head on a pillow
By an open window four floors away.
Eyes of glass catch hazed reflections
From the direction of London lamps
Lighting themselves one by one,
But she does not smile at their amber gleam
Whilst the seams of her soul come undone.
Vague melt solidifies natures crime scene.
Thursday 23rd January 2014 12:02 pm
My faults are many, my problems few
Perhaps too many I tell, but just not you
Through rifts and valleys I suppose you were there
Mostly too self absorbed was I, neglecting to care
I see that now, I will see it still
In years to come when I am old and ill
Troubled am I with a past I cant change
Weary am I with thoughts of mumbling rage
Sorry to say I have let so much slip...
Tuesday 21st January 2014 9:25 pm
Also by alan barlow:Only For You |
My first apartment
was in a bad neighborhood.
The apartment was small
and rat infested.
The mirror in my
bedroom had a
dark shadowy spot
in the corner.
It looked creepy but
I told myself to ignore it.
But sometimes I swear
the shadow pulsated
like it was breathing.
When my lease r...
Tuesday 21st January 2014 7:35 pm
Also by Shirley Smothers:The Sea Haiku |
A Centenary War Poem for my father Bill Baine (1899-1968)
A CENTENARY WAR POEM
for Bill Baine, 1899-1968
‘What passing-bells for those who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.’
And so some lines to spike centenary prattle:
These words a sole survivor soldier’s son’s.
My father Bill, born in Victorian England:
The sixth of January, 1899.
His stock, loyal London. Proletarian doff-cap.
Aged seventeen, he went to join the line.
Tuesday 21st January 2014 5:50 pm
Biscuit Baby - Example 4
Tuesday 21st January 2014 2:12 pm
Also by Jane Burn:Biscuit Baby - Example 3 | Biscuit Baby - Example 2 | Biscuit Baby - Example 1 | Biscuit Baby | Review of Dominic Berry - Writing for Children and Family Audiences Workshop | Clever Fox - Example 5 | Clever Fox - Example 4 | Clever Fox - Example 3 | Clever Fox - Example 2 | Clever Fox - example 1 | Clever Fox | There’s a Dog Loose in the Woods | January Mindful Writing Challenge - Small Stones | Blackpool, October | Baby’s Breath | Beloved Child | Cambois Beach | Clam Cyclops | After the Rain | Dearly Beloved | Deepsea | Downward Spiral | Driving on a Hot Day | Thirty Days | Apathy | Lighting Up | Old Lady Jumpers | Embracing Someone Unexpected | Granddad was a Bastard | Grey Horse's Back | Hook a Duck Prize | How Nice to See the Sun! | Heels | I Will Remember | Inclement Weather | Junction Guardians | Merboy in Red Swim Shorts | Notes to a Potential Lover | Not Quite Spring | Oh, Deer | Miles | Travel On | Potato Pickers | Random Bursts | Emily Loved Him | River at Wylam | Septuagenarian Cyclists | Seasonal Hinterland | Swan Flies Over Roundabout | We are a Circle | Roadkill Bingo | Weirdly Localised Patch of Fog |
My PC died. My PC died taking the bones of what was to be my next collection with it.
It is unrecoverable, short of taking a £700 punt on forensic recovery.
Gutted doesn't come close.
I'm reverting back to notebook and pen
Tuesday 21st January 2014 12:54 pm
Also by Paul Sands:wish sister | brain burp | leviathan | driving her home | The Wrong Climate | Squib |
Fiesty old pro-choice Celia`s dream
Celia would say with that sly old knowing wink:
`If this Almighty really existed wouldn`t you think
That he`d want us unbelieving folk to know himself
And so would simply , unmistakeably show himself,
Rise up in all his splendour, wiggle his magic wand,
Bid all the world`s wickedness shrivel, flee, abscond?
I mean, why so shy? so bashful? keep himself so hid,
Why not just...
Tuesday 21st January 2014 12:43 pm
Also by Harry O`N eill:While waiting for inspiration | Promised poem for Kathy after the party |
I walked down a solemn, slow-trodden road
And breathed in the dust of fragments
That littered the beaten way
Memories leapt to greet me, old friends.
The warmth, the red flush on pale skin
The familiar motions and thoughts...
Submerging in the chill Winter light
Bathing in the cold Autumn rains
Swimming in the warm Summer lakes
Waiting for the first new day of Sprin...
Monday 20th January 2014 4:17 pm
Also by David Blake:Beyond A Clichéd Title |
I Compare Thee To A Roast Dinner
From my new book:- A Floristry of Palpitations
I COMPARE THEE TO A ROAST DINNER
As cool as a sprout,
and more fragrant than a cabbage -
You turned me on with your Yorkshire Pudding wit.
Your potato looks, and carrot personality
attracted me like gravy to a plate.
Your cauliflower skin, and garden pea humour
was as passionate as a roast beef kiss.
Your solicitor was ...
Sunday 19th January 2014 10:23 am
The room brimmed
with her pale heat
lapping through my winter.
Dare I touch this dance
and stuff my pockets full of hope?
Parcel my fears
in wax paper and twine
and wait for them to unravel.
Pic - Cormorant Drying Wings. by Geoffrey Bickley. Sculpture: wood
Friday 17th January 2014 1:41 am
John from Blackbess St.Peter
owns this yellow bus we travel on,
a-sway on the West Coast road to the reggae tunes
accented by the horn - our soundtrack.
as Tourist due to
my pale love,
although my heart and soul
for this coral isle.
Thursday 16th January 2014 2:58 pm
Another wee blast of grim northern verse from my Highland stravaigings early in 2013. Crianlarich is the railway station/stop where the train from Glasgow splits, half to Oban, half to Mallaig, or rejoins on the way south from both. It's surrounded by fantastic scenery & the temperature always seems to be -2C.
At Crianlarich where the great winds roared,
Hyphens of rai...
Thursday 16th January 2014 12:52 pm
Also by Stuart A. Paterson:A poem written for someone I never met | A return of sorts |
The Christmas Tree
It took a while to grow
The Christmas tree, you know
And for weeks it gave us Christmas cheer
Draped with decorations
Befitting the time of year
But now January has come
and the festive season’s done
but we’ve another use for the tree,
we’ll chop it into logs
and burn it on the fire.
It’s sad really,
because it took a long while to grow,
The Christmas tree,...
Wednesday 15th January 2014 1:23 pm
Also by Steve Higgins:Action | Cannonball |
With smiles on our faces
we commit the crimes
on a daily basis-
crimes against humanity
for the sake of prosperity
we throw the devil's dice
We all signed up for it
and now we wonder why
all that we loved
tends to fall apart
Withdraw from the madness
do not oil the war
don't shoot at the buggies
don't hire newborns!
Thinking we are drops of ...
Wednesday 15th January 2014 11:26 am
Let us meet at the gates Happy Days
and think deep of what we thought
we was a sad song but the radio plays loads
Free to chill , be
it takes two to tango ...
i played my part in the story of getting dumped
theres not a lot to talk about anymore
i love you baby i love you more than is logical
we did not even get on
so your not mine
i do not mind
Rainbows All Round...
Tuesday 14th January 2014 9:34 pm
How to approach a new year
the same as I did last year
salford girls can soar
showing that this woman
has more than she ever imagined
or bargained for
don’t expect me to turn over a new leaf
cos I’ll be springing into summer’s warmth
whooping through autumnal days
there’ll be no kicking of heels
when I’m kicking up a snow storm
Tuesday 14th January 2014 9:14 pm
Switch on the dark,
it's the right place to be.
Embraced in the black
that's reflected in me.
I can stop.
Stop with the thinking,
the feeling of sinking,
the sense that the whole world
around me is shrinking,
I am not.
Ignoring the noises,
not listening to voices,
denying my choices,
I am done.
Tuesday 14th January 2014 1:08 pm
January Collage Poem: Beginnings and Exits
Mothers of sons dream troubled dreams
of blowing leaves and anniversaries.
Give me an energetic brush every time
it smells like winter, trees sigh softly
and nature floats my boat. Red and gold
leaves scurry along in the force
the pungence of words strong enough
to sting the nostrils, sweet enough
to bless the ears
glamour in fleece and recognition...
Monday 13th January 2014 9:57 pm
ThePoetry Spoke January Open Mic & Guest Ian Whiteley
ThePoetry Spoke returns -
Thursday the 16th of January - 8pm!
This time around it’s Open Mic
& Guest Poet - Ian Whiteley
Gallagher Pub & Barbers - 20 Chester Street - Birkenhead
Wirral - CH41 5DQ
Of our Guest - Wol, Yorkshire and Wigan poet!
Ian is a member of the Black Horse Poets in Wakefield - with 5 poems published in their recent anthology 'Full Rein', Ian's first full colle...
Monday 13th January 2014 5:44 pm
No Justice (Page 7)
Concluding a tissue of lies,
his life resides in a box;
Monday 13th January 2014 2:52 pm
Q. And babies?
A. And babies.
not my words- not my foto T carroll
with reference to the My Lai Massacre
Monday 13th January 2014 4:39 am
Also by Tommy Carroll:In memory of Ariel Sharon |
NEW YEAR AT JACK AND JACKIE'S PLACE
Before we moved home my wife and I hosted a New Year Party with usually over twenty attending. We introduced the old fashioned entertainment of singing, poetry, story telling. I wrote the following after the last one.
~~NEW YEAR AT JACK AND JACKIE’S PLACE
THE LONG ROOM AWAITED
GLITTERING AND GOLD
TABLE PREPARED TO ENSURE GUESTS WERE SATED
WINE PRESENTED ENSURING THE WHITES WERE COLD
Sunday 12th January 2014 1:11 pm
Chemical Skies, Dyes and Dies
How In Heaven's Name
Did These Chemical Skies Arise
Burning Down Our Hopes
Of True, Blue skies
Why in Hell's Name
Have We Allowed Chemical Lies To Abide
Drowning our muted cries
Of The Chemtrails Crime
When Will We Count The Cost
In Water and Soil
When It's All O...
Sunday 12th January 2014 3:09 am
The shivers that creep up your back,
The smells, the sounds that bring you back,
The city streets that call your name,
You know it will never sound the same,
Fish and chips at the pier head dock,
Time stands still on the Liver bird clock,
The Mersey breeze through your hair,
In all the world you haven’t a care,
Butties of jam with corporation pop,
10p mix from the corner...
Saturday 11th January 2014 6:05 pm
Also by tina:The cloak | The Beehive |
i'm not falling for you again,
my wicked wicked heart.
Saturday 11th January 2014 6:04 am
Also by Lory Gaur:I am here.. |
Prejudice and Pride by Katie Haigh
Saturday 11th January 2014 12:33 am
Also by Katie Sheila Haigh:For Granddad |
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