Poetry Blogs (Mar 2014)
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.
Monday 31st March 2014 11:54 pm
Also by Dave Bradley:Being not very good at lots of things |
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 :
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...
Monday 31st March 2014 4:16 pm
Also by Paul Sands:whilst waiting | black watch | cheese | 21 gallons | notes |
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 ...
Monday 31st March 2014 2:31 pm
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
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 sunset and dawn
the birds rising in ...
Monday 31st March 2014 4:49 am
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...
Sunday 30th March 2014 11:40 pm
In the nascent
empty vessels of time,
I hear your voice.
Sunday 30th March 2014 10:15 pm
Also by NICK ARMBRISTER:Trash Overhead | Manchester Lass ) | my new anti war book with andy n out now poem and link | Free | SLOWLY, SPEEDILY TURNING | Data | Hold Rock | neda poem from our new book... | She Defeated Death | based on a paper article on teenagers doing stupid things. you cross words out leaving you with a random line poem... |
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
Sunday 30th March 2014 4:24 pm
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
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...
Sunday 30th March 2014 2:11 pm
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 |
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....
Saturday 29th March 2014 4:05 pm
Also by fiona sinclair:Switching the light back on |
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
As dusk swallows the familiar.
“Do you dance?”
“Nah. I just play tag. But it’s fun.”
Saturday 29th March 2014 2:49 pm
Also by Cynthia Buell Thomas:Beloved |
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,...
Friday 28th March 2014 10:54 pm
Also by David Blake:...Roads... | Rain/Sun/Rain | A Room, Midnight |
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...
Friday 28th March 2014 5:53 pm
Also by John Coopey:Joe 90 | Ben | GRAND OLD DAMES | The Miracle of Life | OPEN MIC AUDIENCES | Slime-Ball Wizard | Cantabrae Tales |
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...
Thursday 27th March 2014 8:09 pm
this woman’s work
warm breath on ice
baroque and roll
the purr of cats
a stolen kiss
touch of lace
ninth wave drowns
in the afternoon
Thursday 27th March 2014 7:10 pm
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 |
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...
Thursday 27th March 2014 6:52 pm
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 |
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.
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...
Thursday 27th March 2014 4:03 pm
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.
Over time as your halo corroded
I have held each one
up to the light
only to find it draining of truth.
Wednesday 26th March 2014 10:41 am
From Moment To Moment
She asked me if I was working,
I said no,
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...
Wednesday 26th March 2014 4:12 am
Also by Average Joe:Three hours in the whiskey jar. | Poems after my brother's and before my sister's birthday |
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...
Tuesday 25th March 2014 10:59 pm
Also by Noris Roberts:Inspiration... | I only asked... | Was there never a time for me? |
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
Tuesday 25th March 2014 11:39 am
Also by joe ranter:dear arsehole | Mr Putin |
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...
Tuesday 25th March 2014 7:33 am
Also by Ralph Dartford:On The Day She Passed | Insider | A Kendal Mint Cake Crisis | On Turning 50 | The Sunday Morning Goalkeeper |
And now there’s silence now
No wings above the sky
Waiting in terminal
Frozen for weeks on end
Rocking their loved ones inside
Until they receive 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...
Monday 24th March 2014 9:34 pm
Also by David R Mellor:I FELT LIFE |
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...
Monday 24th March 2014 5:45 pm
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
Sunday 23rd March 2014 7:50 pm
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...
Sunday 23rd March 2014 3:11 pm
Also by Kimberly Brians:Forever |
~~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...
Sunday 23rd March 2014 2:45 pm
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.
Sunday 23rd March 2014 12:43 pm
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.
Sunday 23rd March 2014 11:08 am
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,
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,
Saturday 22nd March 2014 9:35 pm
Also by Noetic-fret!:Expanding On a Guit - Raw! | Ascendance | Tales of Love and Hate |
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.
Saturday 22nd March 2014 7:35 pm
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
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...
Saturday 22nd March 2014 4:36 pm
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
Friday 21st March 2014 9:41 pm
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.
Friday 21st March 2014 1:01 pm
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 ...
Friday 21st March 2014 12:29 pm
Also by Steve:Clothes Maketh The Man | Jimmy, do you remember me? |
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
Thursday 20th March 2014 6:16 pm
Also by steve pottinger:You could have had kids by now |
Thursday 20th March 2014 5:25 pm
Also by Shirley Smothers:Two Line Horror(ible) Story | My Imagination? 99 word horror story | Wild Wolves |
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
Thursday 20th March 2014 3:18 pm
Also by M.C. Newberry:GLOBAL WARMING-how long forming? | STRANGE |
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...
Thursday 20th March 2014 10:35 am
Also by c byrne:Spurn Point |
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...
Wednesday 19th March 2014 9:47 pm
Also by Neil West:a list of last things | moonlight on white snow settled | snow |
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
Tuesday 18th March 2014 2:08 pm
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...
Monday 17th March 2014 5:01 pm
Also by Jane Burn:North Shields | Lovebird | Small Stones March 2014 | February Small Stones |
Monday 17th March 2014 4:03 pm
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...
Monday 17th March 2014 9:39 am
Also by Sunny Chopra:Masquerade | Peace with Self | Reflective Debate | Relective Grudge |
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 had a ratskin hat
Together with a ratskin glove....
Sunday 16th March 2014 10:17 pm
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...
Sunday 16th March 2014 8:52 pm
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...
Sunday 16th March 2014 7:37 pm
Also by Alice:(untitled) |
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Saturday 15th March 2014 3:52 pm
Also by frat poet:Join and help support us! |
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 ...
Friday 14th March 2014 6:28 pm
Also by David Lindsay:I used to start by saying "Sorry" |
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...
Thursday 13th March 2014 11:37 pm
Also by Hazel Connelly:His Touch |
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...
Wednesday 12th March 2014 12:47 pm
Also by Leilanie Stewart:Want your work reviewed? |