Poetry Blogs (Mar 2014)

Popular last 30 days

Whispering

Whisper music in the orient wind.

Dress vision in a gown of purple.

Smell needs in the shadows.

Let pink urges sing honey,

Hot language sweat black diamonds. 

Play the sweet moment. 

Eternity is raining raw gifts.

White time is a mad mist

Above the lake of moonlight,

The ache of swimming in skin.

Whisper sweet music in the orient wind. 

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Also by Dave Bradley:

Being not very good at lots of things |

A Review of my Collection "scratch"

As it seems to have been passed over, yet agan, in the publication of choice I'm taking the liberty of posting the review of my collection scratch, by the wonderful MulletProofPoet :

Scratch
Paul Sands

Sadly, these days, many poetry collections often come with a free side order of smart-arse, either that or they’re brimming with their own (usually misplaced) level of confidence, which gathe...

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Also by Paul Sands:

whilst waiting | black watch | cheese | 21 gallons | notes |

poetry collectionpublicationreviewself published

My mind, confused

My mind says no but my heart says yes

Is an old timely excuse, I must confess

But I now finally understand why one uses this

To explain their perfidy while they remain in bliss

I try by all means, to remain faithful to one

But another comes along and just makes the matter that more fun

She came in, her intentions at first I did not know

My life already unstable, my mind began ...

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Also by Mimi Machakaire:

This is me | There was a time | No one | My Sanity | Love hurts | Look into my eyes | I wonder | I think of you | I miss you | I just wanna say.... | I can't wait | Thankful | Tears | My Gardener | Life goes on | I wish | Finding myself | Betrayal | Grace | Come and gone | Until death do us part | What's in a name? | What could this be? | Unwanted listeners | The future calls to me | Secrets | My shadow | My deepest desire | Suspicion | Busy People, Busy lives | Betrayal | Fantasies | Imagination | Flirtation |

He stands on a hillside.

He stands on a hillside

calling my name.

I hear him every day

but I say shush

to you I can not come

I am here on earth

having too much fun.

 

He wakes me with a serenade

drops petals at my feet

calls out my name

but I say shush

to you I can not come.

 

He teases me with

the moon

the stars

the sunset and dawn

the rainbows

the birds rising in ...

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Our Masterpiece

Our Masterpiece

 

There’s something about Art Galleries.

A beacon for lost souls, the vulnerable.

Cathedrals of catharsis in the worship of art.

Galleries can be that way I’ve noticed.

So much beauty inspired by so much pain.

Maybe we seek the same transmutation internally.

 

She was chirpy, full of energy

But I knew inside she was falling apart.

Sometimes you just...

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real life art

Diamonds & Oil & Love

Diamonds & Dirt

Diamonds may be a girl’s best friend
But at the cost my dear, at the cost
Of never boring them, you are their
Entertainment, they are your love.

Diamonds if they could talk would tell
A causatory tale of distance and dirt
You, a perfect diamond, a pure light
In the compressed dirt of their lives.

Diamonds reflect the compression
Which is the brevity of our lives
Wh...

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Diamondsdirtholdloveoilwater

Hit

Hit


I got an email today from a coral
wanting to know why I don't have a car
I replied it is none of your business
blooming nosy crustacean

but corals aren't the type to let things lie
three phone calls, two texts
and registered delivered letter
later
I received a cheque from his mates
on the barrier reef
so I can buy an SUV

but I'm not that sort of bloke
I sponsored a rhino inste...

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Also by jeremy young:

Rememberance | First Meeting | A Moment of Tension | Musing in Ilkley Cemetery | Dusk | Cowt Leaves | After Satie | Bossy | The Farming Forecast | Come Leaves Burst | The Christmas Gift | Mary Berry |

climate change

untitled

Our temporary two week living together

is wordlessly extended,

as equipped only with electric saw

and uncle’s ancient loppers,

we next tackle the thicket crouching in the back yard

Both middle aged with bad back and balance disorder,

a morning’s work and ‘Early night?’

means we are asleep by 8pm.

 

I  load as fast as you chop

stuff hatchback and estate like suitcases.

...

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Also by fiona sinclair:

Switching the light back on |

The Mirror

Seven years old

He bounds through the front door.

(Super heroes never walk. They run!  They leap!)

Pink safari pants and a new T-shirt: “I’m the GREATEST’.

No argument there.

 

Friday is Disco Night at the school auditorium

Blaring beat pounding sound

Freedom

As dusk swallows the familiar.

Exciting!

“Do you dance?”

“Nah. I just play tag.  But it’s fun.”

 

...

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Also by Cynthia Buell Thomas:

Beloved |

children

Beside the Motorway

entry picture

I stepped slow, drunkenly down

a half-shadowed rough road at noon;

no more than a sliver of dust,

a dirt track, borders pale in ruin.

 

No labour it was, but pleasant,

above a sky of summer blue;

yet autumn’s grasp it lay upon

the boughs, branches; a breezy tune.

 

And in a glade of silver hue,

of spider webs and thrushes’ nests;

beyond, there boomed in stereo,

...

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Also by David Blake:

...Roads... | Rain/Sun/Rain | A Room, Midnight |

2013Yesterday's Weather

t'Monkey - "Deliverance" meets "Kes"

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Nothing prepared me for the gig at “t’Monkey”; not five years of Open Mic-ing, not ten years of living nearby at Penistone.

The first thing I noticed about the place was that it wasn’t there.  Located in the Barnsley Triangle near Thurgoland, land of sheep and Thurgs, it steadfastly refused to acknowledge the Google Map I had run off; pointlessly, as it happened as there were no street lamps to...

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Also by John Coopey:

Joe 90 | Ben | GRAND OLD DAMES | The Miracle of Life | OPEN MIC AUDIENCES | Slime-Ball Wizard | Cantabrae Tales |

ThePoetry Spoke Open Mic & Guest Band JustByChance

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ThePoetry Spoke returns -

Thursday the 3rd of April - 8pm!  

This time around it’s Open Mic

& Guest Band - JustByChance

 

Gallagher Pub & Barbers

20 Chester Street - Birkenhead

Wirral - CH41 5DQ

 

Of our Guests 

Two gifted folk singer-songwriters, Andrew Jones and Liz Owen turned duo, In doing so they combining their talents and honed their music towards a folk/pop se...

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this woman's work

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this woman’s work

warm breath on ice
baroque and roll
dancing windmills
flaming soul
the purr of cats
a stolen kiss
of peppermint
serpent’s hiss
touch of lace
Cleopatra eyes
pianoforte
dolphin cries
weeping angels
laughing clowns
heartbeat flutter
ninth wave drowns
waterfalls
windswept moors
kangaroos
painted whores
chilling wind
waxing moon
midnight
in the afternoon
ban...

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Also by Ian Whiteley:

the red regret of Thomas | Cycle Of The Scarecrow (audio version) | breathing in the dusk | all that is Left | steam asylum | NEW WEBSITE LAUNCHED | supping at the Silverback Inn | The Perfect Alibi |

kate bushmusicthis woman's work

Captivated By The Light

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My inner desire is to be...
Free from the continuing burden
of my soul's carnality.

For I wish to be liberated
from the snares of sin's grip
and be forever emancipated.

Truly, I'm captivated by The Light
that shines eternally into my spirit
and erases my heart's love of Earthly delights.

Fulfillment of my life's emptiness
is only met by a spiritual purpose
with God's call to His Holines...

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Also by Joseph J. Breunig 3rd:

Green Meadows | Grace and Love | Poem: Exit Strategy | Poem: Daily Bread | Poem: And He Whispered... | Poem: White for Harvest | Poem: Why Would You Love Me? | Poem: Drawn To You | Poem: Brought to Enlightenment | Poem: Fragile, Flawed and Easily Broken | Poem: New Age Spirituality | Poem: Immortality | Poem: Show of Hands | Poem: The Cross, Stark and Still |

breunigCaptivated By The Lightchristian poetryfaithpoetry

net twitching

a kid in his bmx heaven

wheelies past our gate.Outside number thirty

two balloon dressed gateposts

tells me it is someones birthday.

 

A bullying wind

is deciding which direction

the roadside trees will sway.

 

Tonight

when all the lit windows are peopled

I will be watching

a multitude of realities

all at the same time again.

 

A little flock of sparro...

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bombed out

wanting to be food for your cannon

I listened then with excited ears

to what I know now

were merely salvoes of bullshit

aimed at my heart.

 

Care!

care!

care!

devotion!

devotion!

devotion!

foreverness!

foreverness!

foreverness!

 

Over time as your halo corroded

I have held each one

up to the light

only to find it draining of truth.

 

...

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Absorbing Monotony With Diogenes

 

From Moment To Moment

 

She asked me if I was working,

I said no,

Im stray,

I am my own cerberus,

a salty scrapper with rascally scruff,

no shackled pup,

all rust and fluff,

I am made of blacker stuff,

and in my short time here,

I have seen enough,

gnomes molding walls,

vast, deep, and tall,

through the skulls of us all,

 for me to bawl forever mor...

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Also by Average Joe:

Three hours in the whiskey jar. | Poems after my brother's and before my sister's birthday |

poetry

Everything is full of you...

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It’s not a lie, everything is full of you, I can assure it;

the night we met,

the old lantern that shone on us

and perhaps your promises inspired these words

converted into grief

 

My heart, yearning for you,

looks for sweet words

to write in your soul

 

This love without words became my preferred tempo,

in the most perfect harmony,

in the most beautiful poetry

...

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Also by Noris Roberts:

Inspiration... | I only asked... | Was there never a time for me? |

love poetry

lets go fracking

Lets go fracking

Fracking here, Fracking there,

these frackers are fracking everywhere.

Wherever you look, frackers have took.

No Small is Beautiful for them

But big and Bullshitty.

No room for real people, real mem,

but Banksters and Selservatives,

thet's what we call these fracking conservatives,

with their tools the policemen 

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Also by joe ranter:

dear arsehole | Mr Putin |

The Valley

Sickle moon cockeye on the valley.

Bubbling pots, sweating sweet mists.

Rosy boy poised proudly for dinner.

Sunset hobo shuffles in for a piece.

 

Mother smoking offers hobo a morsel.

Who glares past shoulders and belches.

Screaming he is trailed by a firefly,

to the sheriffs house where he retches.

 

The whiskey sheriff fondles with his Browning.

Clocks the fear i...

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Also by Ralph Dartford:

On The Day She Passed | Insider | A Kendal Mint Cake Crisis | On Turning 50 | The Sunday Morning Goalkeeper |

Silence Now

Silence Now

 

And now there’s silence now

No wings above the sky

Waiting in terminal

Turmoil

They wail

As hope

Dies

 

Frozen for weeks on end

Rocking their loved ones inside

Until they receive the news

The news

The news

 

But now there is silence now

I hope there are wings of comfort to guide you inside

That the wail will subside

And the cal...

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Also by David R Mellor:

I FELT LIFE |

Just a first blog posting

Saturday 22 March

Leeds Utd 2-1 Millwall


Today I took my Niece to her first ever Leeds United game. With Vinnie Jones in attendance at the ground it had to be a Leeds win didn't it?

A simple equation created the first goal: ball into the box + big man = goal. Despite the goal both teams shifted between average and mediocre, with little to get excited about. The game threatened to boil over on occas...

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footballreview

THE OLD COMMODORE

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THE OLD COMMODORE

This faded slab stands to commemorate

David Lewis of ‘The Conqueror’ late

A Montgomery man ‘The Old Commodore’

Who served under Nelson in times of war

Then as a harbourmaster in peacetime

A grand old seadog not far past his prime

Here in Aberystwyth he lived and died

His watchful eye always on the tide

In this peaceful town on Cardigan Bay

He dropped...

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AberystwythDavid SubacchiLiverpool PoetryLiverpool PoetsWelsh Poets

Only a Whisper

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So quiet, faintly whispering
My real feelings about life
My insides are withering
Ever growing is my strife

I broke my eyes a while back
So now you’ll never get to see
My soul windows have been cracked
The pain is building inside of me

So here, I will sit
Forever a caged heart
In this deep dark pit
Until I tear this life apart

Slowly being consumed by hate
From my head to my toe...

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Also by Kimberly Brians:

Forever |

darkdepressionsadness

It Must Be The Taste

~~You could almost smell the tea
in the moments when the jazz band played
and the chimps filled the 9” tv screens.
From then on it was the hapless Mr Shifter
and his piano, or Bond, Brooke Bond.
No one could look after the national beverage
like this guy, this spy.
Shirley Tipps would try to get organised, but find
that five minutes tea-time is a rare commodity.
Best let Al and Monkey put...

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Morning Commute

My feet throb through my shoes
after a brisk walk to the station.
I keep my ears plugged with my beats
as I find my seat at the furtherest point.
Backs of heads, napes, and collars
mushroom and stare at me --
my polarised sunnies paint them bright;
Yet all I see is a tiny reflection of me.
Here in my world another day begins.
This cosmos is peopled isolation.

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When The Shadows Come

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Inspired by all of you good people on write aloud, I decided to get a little brave and record myself reading some of the poetry from my collection that I published on Amazon and Smashwords last year. Hope you like it.

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The Earths Core

The Earths Core

 

I am sat in front of its secret eye,

And I wanna kick fuck out of it,

It watches everything I do,

I pick my nose in front of it,

Wack off,

Swear,

Drink

Bite my nails

And pick my scabby scalp,

     It looks at me with pleasure,

For it seeks only the demeaning

Of my being,

And I find nowadays

My dick is cold,

My mind colder still,

...

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Also by Noetic-fret!:

Expanding On a Guit - Raw! | Ascendance | Tales of Love and Hate |

PTSD

For Bob Crow

Poem for Bob Crow (cheers W.H. Auden)

Stop all the docks, cut off the trains, 
Start the mariners striking, be still the cranes, 
Silence the busses and with muffled bullhorn 
Bring out the coffin, let the workers come. 

Let politicians circle, moaning overhead 
confessing on the airwaves, He Is RED, 
Put nooses round the white necks of the bosses, 
Let the riot policemen carry their own crosses. 

He was...

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bestBobComradeCrowfuturegoneinspirationlabourleaderleftlondonpoliticsredrevolution. RMTsolidarityunionworkers

Vernal Equinox

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Vernal Equinox

Spring is official

We're in the part that hangs us up

The thawing what's been forgotten

Under snirt and ice for months

Secrets left for safe keeping

Are announcing winter's dark season

Like confessionals 

Transition or how hard spring can be

Reminds us of brutal beauty

Of life and death

Never considered separately

A tandem like

The War and Peac...

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SPRING.

it is a fact

spring brings optimistic thoughts

an open-shuttering of hope

a swishing away of winter melancholia

and subtly hints of nobler things

 

chorister tits love spring

which dine on suet treats

and feed their tweeting young

beyond the window where i sit entranced

such dexterity is a joyful thing

and all because of spring

 

if i were a nightingale

an...

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Stairway to paradise

The only place where I could hold your hand was in my thoughts and dreams.

Somewhere passed all that

you embraced me; silently and soothingly whispering to me your final goodbye.

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The Child Inside

The child inside of me.

is the child I used to be.

The hopes and fears

Of the child inside

are still alive in me,

and every day, in every way

I’m still the child inside.

 

The child inside shapes the view

of the world I see today

and the eyes of the child

are round and wide

and I will be their guide.

 

For the child inside everything is new,

every road ...

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Also by Steve:

Clothes Maketh The Man | Jimmy, do you remember me? |

lifesoul

the budget statement, in full.

we gave you bread and circuses

now it’s bingo cards and beer

to distract you, so you’re unaware

your future’s disappeared.

 

© Steve Pottinger

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Also by steve pottinger:

You could have had kids by now |

austeritybudgetpolitics

Brevette Poems

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Love

Inspires

Creativity

 

Creativity

Produces

Art

 

Art

Voices

Emotions

 

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Also by Shirley Smothers:

Two Line Horror(ible) Story | My Imagination? 99 word horror story | Wild Wolves |

ArtBrevettePoems

MY LONDON - music setting

This is posted to herald the welcome signs of spring in this great city.  Now put in a music setting, 

intended for a currently produced CD of "poems to music" called "POETRY TO PLEASE".

...........................................................................

In all the world there's nowhere quite

Like London on a soft spring night

When saffron sunset sends its grace

To linger...

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Also by M.C. Newberry:

GLOBAL WARMING-how long forming? | STRANGE |

Angel Lust

I'm just a scaffolder

Hopefully making (more than one temporary) solid structure used to support people and material 

In the construction or repair of their projects 
Did you remember to bring me the silver?
Axe swinging in the static
Just trying to hang in chains
Watching it become unbalanced
And sometimes some crashing down
Onto the other side of the road

Did you forget to bring m...

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Also by c byrne:

Spurn Point |

the lost property paradox (true story)

just before the lesson
to the horror of the youth
he discovered his shorts were missing
to the master should he tell the truth?
to come to school without full kit
the boy knew all too well
would leave him deeply in the…er…teacher’s bad books
and more than just a bit!
a flash of inspiration struck
‘I’ve lost my shorts, ’ he ‘fessed
‘in lost property can I look?’
his teacher feigned distr...

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Also by Neil West:

a list of last things | moonlight on white snow settled | snow |

She loves me not...

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She loves me not she tries to say

in her gentle, unconvincing way,

with eyes that warm

and lips that glide

her heart and mine collude, confide.

She does not care, but care she must,

I know she lies, herself I trust,

but what of me, what thoughts are held

when reticent, restrained, compelled?

Does she feel that which I feel too,

no choices now but to pursue

whilst h...

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The Fountain House

I wrote this after visiting the Concrete Menagerie in Branxton, Northumberland. I also made a filmpoem of this for the Read our Lips Filmpoem competiton 2014. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iKF0BH4b64g

 

My fingers trace the indentations pressed

By previous hands; the clefts and dents

Formed in cement by an ageing man

For (as some would think him) an imperfect son

For whom, they...

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Also by Jane Burn:

North Shields | Lovebird | Small Stones March 2014 | February Small Stones |

Blueberries

 

In mad moments I wonder
if they crave the sharp injection of teeth -
 
crowded and desperate,
revealing  blue blood;
 
their trails of squid ink
smeared  on the back of my hand.
 
 
 
 

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Holi - The Colourful Festival

 

Holi – The Festival

 

Yellow green and orange

lot other varied shades.

 

Spell cultural harmony

even after festivity fades.

 

Different cross sections

all diversities are defined.

 

Everyone comes together

this day one would find.

 

Heralds change of season

sort of an age old trend.

 

With overthrow of the evil

all goodness must ex...

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Also by Sunny Chopra:

Masquerade | Peace with Self | Reflective Debate | Relective Grudge |

Festivityfrolicfungaietytogetherness

Disturbing Verse

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I’m a big fan of Harry Graham and his Ruthless Rhymes, so I’ve written a couple of my own, although he has already written the best ones. Ruthless Rhymes are jewels of black humour and awe-inspiring callousness. Mine are just a bit disturbing, and include an iffy rhyme or two, as is my wont. I hope you like them.

 

AUNTY PAT

Aunty Pat had a ratskin hat

Together with a ratskin glove.

...

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Comedy PoetryHarry GrahamLouise Etheridgeruthless rhymes

And the sky-blue shall overcome

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A lion, with triumphant stare,
holds high the pedigree that lay
hid in the books that line his lair.
Beneath, a pride in proud array
with golden grins agape to say
that colour (as a rule of thumb)
must meet with metal for display,
and: the sky-blue shall overcome.

Now, week by week, we've gone to Clare
for nine-score terms, until today,
to gather for a meeting, where
we sweep away naï...

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Death Wish

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Cold and dark

Alone in bed and room

in home and entire universe

Death hovers out and larks

He waits no permit to come

In my heart I feel so brave

And supportive are my knees

They carry me toward him

And I welcome him in peace

What a wonder O' young maid

What a thunder in your voice?

He asks in total disbelief

Why roses in your garden

In love with seas...

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Also by Alice:

(untitled) |

Join and help support us!

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Sign up to Fratpoet.com

The worlds exclusive social creative network. Post everything from peotry, photography, videos and writing material.  Get yourself noticed. All work is rated amongst users and highest rated will get £200. This is a monthly competition. Sign up as it is only £1 per month, you can cancel anytime. Support us now and build the fraternity!

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Also by frat poet:

Join and help support us! |

Tree Time

Apple, Plum, Orange, Lemon, Lime
All give us their sweet Fruits
Alder, Birch, Hawthorn and Sycamore
Spread from solid roots
 
Elder, Fern, Gingko, Hazel
Sweet Gum, Hornbeam, Fig
Bald and False Cypress, Beech
Grow their fearless twigs

There's Holly, Mountain, Ash and Pine
Poplar, Spruce and Yew
Elm, Eucalyptus, Cycad, Conifer
Walnut.  Monkey Puzzle too

Japanese Snowbell, Shellback ...

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Also by David Lindsay:

I used to start by saying "Sorry" |

list poemtrees

Waves

Here I'm sitting without a care

Watching the ripples caress the sand

Taking in the salty sea air

Where the ocean meets land.

 

Show me the currents and ocean tides

right down to the oceans floor

Let me see where the seaweed resides

While the waves crash against the shore..

 

The white foamy waves crashing

With shades of green and aqua blue

The glistening sun fla...

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Also by Hazel Connelly:

His Touch |

Chapbook Publishing

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Authors can easily spend hours looking for chapbook publishers that accept unsolicited submissions, only to find that those markets are currently closed to submissions (sometimes for the foreseeable future). With this in mind, I've decided to post a list of publishers and printers offering alternative solutions for writers looking to DIY it. Check out my links for reputable self-publishing options...

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Also by Leilanie Stewart:

Want your work reviewed? |

chapbooksfictionpamphletspoetryprint on demandself-publishing

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