Poetry Blogs (Jul 2014)

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Wide Awake

Shocked wide awake.

A dream that has unsettled my well being, my state.

Thoughts now anchored firmly in my mind.

Unable to shake them off i try to unwind.

Darkness overwhelms me, doubled with dreams.

My thoughts are racing, my heart bursting at the seams.

Talk myself in to a quite smoke.

Thoughts lost in stars with every toke.


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Cocoon me in your warm embrace

Envelop me in love

Adore me, be my saving grace

My angel from above.


Allow your wings to guide me

Give comfort deep within

Show me true serenity

Release me, let me in.


Calm my fears, appease my soul

Escort me from this land

Carve my name upon your scroll

Protect me, take my hand.


Call time upon this life of mine


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Soul stalker

with dark intent

is all she can be


her heavenly hopeful gifts

were never bought

angelic desires

lost their feel


tall were the towers made

tall to the stars

holding all the wishes

overspilling from her mind


tried too late to fix

the broken past

tried too late to stitch

the unravelling



smashed are al...

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Haikus: Exerpt #3 from: Hook, Line & Haiku

Hasta la pasta?
Annoying filament knots
of spaghetti spools.

The squeals of delight
flow from all fishing children
with uncontained joy.

Sounds of spinning spools
always brings me much comfort,
for I'm not at work.

Floating down the stream?
Not a dream, after dropping...
A bag of bobbers.

In early morning
anxious fish are awaiting
the autumn school bells.




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Also by Joseph J. Breunig 3rd:

Haikus: Exerpt #2 from: Hook, Line & Haiku | Haikus: Exerpt #1 from: Hook, Line & Haiku | Poem: Enoch | Poem: Matthew 19:26 (A Senryu) | Poem: White Flag | Poem: Heavenly Invitation | Poem: Sunday Soldier | Poem: Lasting Hope (sequel to New Age Spirituality) |

breunighaikuhook line and haikupoetry


My vanity has slipped the leash.
I’ve fallen for the lie again
that, if my work is lauded, talent
tips my lightly guided pen.
I realise I'm wrong. I think
opinion and taste are much
mistaken for objective truth and
neither should be seen as such.

I wonder then quite what I seek
and why I share what I produce.
Circling my shifty ego
ultimately I reduce
myself to cells and ganglia

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Hills in Lakes... but how many?

When the sale fell through,
Carl Side put his yoke and pike up for auction
At the place with the green gable
on the longside of the High Street. 
"Let's start on ten," said the auctioneer, a little man. 
"Five", said the grey friar.
"Too low, pike alone is worth eight," said the auctioneer. 
"I'll raise you twenty," said an old man. 
That's a high raise thought Carl.
"I'll raise another...

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The greed of King Cotton

Dormant mill.


Its chimney





in misting dregs

of daylight.


The water wheel



by the tangle

of wild greenery.



can see behind

dust powdered


the incarcerated



still chained

as in life

to their

poverty stricken past




the inca...

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Summer Dress

entry picture

Fluttering slowly past
A flicker of light, of technicolour
Paradise through a rainbow lens
Dust floats still in the eye of the sun
The laughing, trickling waterfall
In the corner - the fountain, the wine and food
Spinning slowly in a dream
That became reality
These flowers, these patterns, swirl upon memory
Strung out throughout the mind
A show of lights inside our heads
The fabric soft...

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Also by David Blake:

Pangs of Legitimacy | Interior/Secret |


The Visitation

There's nothing wrong
With me 
He said
I'm just enjoying 
The view
That man is
Not hanging 
He said
And I feel the pain 
And suffering 
Of the whole world
There is no bother
Here though
He said
No more than 
Any place else
And the more you 
The more you lose
He said
Keep the beat
Or skip it
It's all the same 
To me
No one is going any place
Any sooner 

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Also by Twilbury Wist:

The pretend past | Waiting in line | The search | The Fool | Stolen from Radio | Washing Line | This thing we do | It is what it is | Prelude | ink stains | Milk | The Meeting | Rage | The Circus of People | Knotted | The Awakening | Circles | Easy now | The mechanical hen |

Out There

It is dark out there,

Where did the light go?


I can't see a thing,

But can feel the snow.

And the temperature is dropping,

Twenty below.


And my sister stopped moving,

And mother is slow.

Father has gone,

To where, I don't know.


And it is dark out there,

And still the wind blows.


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Also by James Roper:

Moving (on) | A Weed | Secret to Success | Headache | Take This Seriously! | Memories |


Little Singlet.

Commitment on your tongue is bitter.

Nothing is sweeter than being single.

Eyeing the different sexes like there is nothing better.

Flirting and caressing their minds with words, but remembering not to mouth commitment.

Dialing numbers that are just there for fun, but remembering afterwards that some people are trying to get serious.

Drop those and gain a person who is into games an...

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Also by Lala:

Movie. |



entry picture


They parade down the catwalk
outside of number ten
it’s David’s new TILF army
taking over from the men
cause he’s not likely to be a winner
at next years general election
and if it doesn’t work for him
well, he’ll still have the erection
as he brings some lovely ladies
into the cabinet
because the wrinkly bastards
were as bad as it could get
so here are some ideas Dave
that ...

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Also by Ian Whiteley:

An Angel Bathes In Tears | Thor (He's A Jolly Good Fellow) | Remember Scarborough! | Canary Girl (Chilwell, July 1st 1918) | White Feather | Blood Moon | Craiglockhart (Not Yet Diagnosed Nervous) |

cabinet reshufflecameron's 'babes'conservative desperationcycnical ploysatire


Perhaps she reminded me of me;
flesh melted, her forever childish smile –
how the wax folds upturned her mouth
and the yarrow splits around her eyes,
those picked at  -the  stems of veins
crawling around her ears.
I need to get better,
close her sorrow around me
like that gentle fur of the toy kitten she holds -
I need to hold her and know what she knows. 
No ...

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This poem was written with the Waitrose food poems in mind.  I thought I'd invite WOL to tea!!!


When Rock Bun first saw Cherry Tart

It was plain she sweetened his hard heart

The other cakes upon their shelves

Decided to amuse themselves

Competing with him for their fun

Made poor Rock a hot cross bun!


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Also by M.C. Newberry:


Beyond the light

Beyond the light
we invoke demons
above the air
behind the wind
below the rain
I dispel the humming bird
Heavy, the heat is fleeing
colourful the spirits Beware!
The Knave never ends
translucent defiant
lost in broad daylight
an unreliable map
In whose eyes
the face in your mirror
grow old
while the world changed
We breathe glowing snakes
beside the spirits cold
I conjure the chi...

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It Is Nothing

entry picture

But one single bullet, from barrel to throat,
Choked and opened the wounds of the world,
Unfurled in the seat of a phaeton,
Played on like the most tragic of tragedies,
Greek in essence but eastern in substance,
As Sophie wilts in the lap of Austria,
A single shot through the heart of a continent,
The blood racing fast to the carriage beneath,
Signals the start of relentless war lines,
It is nothing, he ...

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Also by Simon Austin:

Burning Books |

assassinationdeathpoemremembrancesoldierwarworld war oneWW1WWI

Saviour No More

I've tried to be a saviour one too many times

Tied myself in knots, pacing parking lots

Trying to find reasons to their rhymes

But now I realise it's not something that people crave -

To be savioured in some random stranger's way

People want to save their own damn day.

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I couldn't really say

I couldn’t really say that I was in love with you, because I was rather unsure,

But at the time of our dalliance,

I have never felt more on top of the world.

Previously nor after.

It’s just that no one has ever looked at me the way that you do,

Rather did, I suppose.

No one has ever made me the focal point of their admiration,

And you made me your focal point of every positive...

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Also by Felicity:

Begging for the Inevitable | I wrote about you | Far away, she wept | Her |

Her Ivory Skin

Her ivory skin I ne’er saw nor touched

She being very real appeared to me

On a screen of black and white sound;

A mere photograph moving

Coerced by the lightest of dark magic


I have seen her as many characters

I have seen her and grown old

When I was a child her thin limbs and black hair

Attracted me in each role


Against her I am but a disgrace to my gender


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Also by Pity-Poetry :

window dreaming | pink clouds not from a dream | lipstick sick | a cinematic beauty | gear shift lady in black | not clean enough for the cleanly | here's to not looking at you | selling ourselves | ate my heart | from the other side of the garage door | what the grass couldn't do for me | shit for a penny |

Welcome Home

In a dull old place a dead old face

Reads the regional news

Tells you it'd be better

If it weren't for the weather

And the Pakis and the Jews


You're bored to tears with your rent arrears

And general lack of money

Though when you asked for a job

Some greasy old slob

Said there's no work round here sonny


Well you take a drag at a badly rolled fag

And try to...

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Auntie Rose


Auntie Rose
lived next door to us
here in Southwick.
Twenties flapper hat
Twenties clothes
Twenties shoes
...it was 1964.
Faded, but still glamourous.
Retired buyer
for Debenhams of Brighton.
Never married.
Every Tuesday
after primary school
I'd go round for tea.
Tinned herring roes on toast
Cheese and onion crisps
a game of snap
then home to bed.
Every Tuesday
I'd ...

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Also by Attila the Stockbroker:

Latest huge batch of gigs! Posted 14 July 2014 |

familylossworld war one

Tone of Life

Life - like the sound of a bell

Bold at first but fades to a whisper

Who would be the one to tell

Perhaps a mother brother or sister,


Past your peak and gone to seed

Your realisation is sudden it would seem

Most of life sat in thought

Just idle dreams of what could have been,


The recognition of this phase of being

Propells you forward with purposeful meaning


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Also by Paul Letch:

Unravelled | The last Act | Skid row | The Journey |


15 short short poems for heatons twaiku

NB. There maybe more of these but i am busy for a bit now.. These were wrote for Heatons Twaiku (https://twitter.com/heatonstwaiku/)


1 - 9 were done on 26 July 2014

10 - 15 were done on 27 July 2014 (Blog updated) 



Buried in borrowed light 
You're glad you are wearing glasses 
walking home in the darkness


Catching dreams 
You reflect on your youth
Writing songs...

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Also by Andy N:

Exile |

Captain Webb

entry picture

I remember his name and features

from my brief matchbox phase

that sparked up and fizzled out

like so many others. Phillumeny,

yes, that’s the word. Cutting out the labels, 

I glued them to homemade charts.


When Bryant and May raised his profile

he couldn’t have been more famous,

if he had stared from banknotes.

On a cheap box of lucifers

– the white cliffs at hi...

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Also by David Cooke:

Miles Davis in Paris | Slippage | For Jeffrey Hudson |


If you're a musician

Then you probably

Have issues with your parents.


If you're a poet

Then you probably

Like musicians.

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This time on a sunny day

entry picture

Sometimes on a sunny day, early, 

earlier than the busses,

before the traffic around my house

has time to make me reach

for the radio news, and

look day straight in its face.

Sometimes I search out from under

the debri of tasks ahead that have me sighing-

at folders of forms and issues to confront.

Sometimes with the back door open,

accepting the light to pool on the ...

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Also by Tommy Carroll:

I leant against the wall | The Astronomer and her lover | The Astronomer and her star-gazer. | Tour de France The Grand Depart |

Poets in the Afternoon

entry picture

Yesterday was the launch event for the Poets in the Afternoon anthology, a collection of poetry to showcase the work of performance poets from the Poets @ 3 afternoons. The event was organised by Paul McGrane with twelve poets reading on the day. My full review is here:


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Also by Leilanie Stewart:

My poem in The Open Mouse |

Paul McGraneperformance poetryPoetry @ 3Poets in the Afternoon anthologyThe Poetry Cafe

The Weather ruined the rest

Don’t remember much
About my first holiday
Apart form the fact
It never stopped raining
And we ended up stuck
In my Uncle’s Caravan
Playing cards
While our father and mother
Barely stopped arguing.
On my second
We took our dog with us
Only for the poor thing
To get that upset
It didn’t stop messing
When the rain started
Rattling the caravan
And ...

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New Poetry Collection

entry picture

I have just released my third collection of poetry entitled "From A to Believe"


It can only be purchased via Lulu at the moment but will become available through Amazon and Barnes & Noble over the next few weeks

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Pale blue eyes,

pastel blank face,

bloodless body,

dead cold feet.


Peering into sky,

stares back, the black outer space,

no twinkling stars,

nor the bright moon,

powercut in the sky.


A sudden lightning strike,

eyes swell with tears,

the clouds start weeping,

heart to burst open,

thunderous sound deafens the ears.


Wonder how mother nature sen...

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My Stranger, My Saviour, My Friend

Alone in this room as the paper falls from the walls,

i shout, i scream but not a soul hears my call,

won't someone come save me, no-one at all??,

Bound by disillusion and fear, my body goes numb,

stomping of feet stops at the door, has someone really come??,

i'm begging, i'm praying, i'm hoping for dad or mum,

will i ever see my family again, will i ever return??.

Right there...

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Also by Tj Steele:

Last Moments | Zero to Hero |


Oh wondrous River Avon

Gurgling gently and so free

Dissecting Bradford-upon-Avon

On through Wiltshire to the sea

See the lanterns, hear the children

Watch their parents smile with glee

Once the festival has started

Please do not look for me

I'll be in the —anal Tavern

Hoping they've replaced the 'C'!



There is less than a week to go if you want to enter.


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Also by Daniel Dwyran:




entry picture

Swept away by these waves of confusion,

Iam now stranded in the island of chaos.

Just yesterday I was dreamily looking into the horizon;

Peacefully sailing in my boat of bliss.

I didn't see that big wave coming,

I didn't hear the roar of thunder,

I couldn't smell the storm.


And now Iam all alone in this strange wilderness;

I see no light,I can f...

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22-7-14 11pm.

entry picture


I gave you the pearls in bed
and you counted them all one by one
thread breaking sending them curving
across your skin beneath the cotton sheet
between your thighs.
And again one by one like prisoners
rounded up from the cold forest I
escort them back threatening each
with solitude should their careless display
have confused my gift with threat
of shallow desire.





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An Apathetic State of Being

An Apathetic State of Being



We’re all here,

Complaining of life love

The Gaza Strip and Syria,

But we’re not compelled to

React the way some

Still have the balls to express,

And I guess,

It’s not for want

Of compassion,

It’s just that,

We’re tired,

We’re not the makings

Of epic feelings or

Playing to the gallery

On any particular crusade,


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Also by Noetic-fret!:

Beyond the Realms of Murder |

Poetry Comes From the Heart

entry picture

Poetry comes from the heart and soul.

Whether it be serious or comic,

a short poem can speak volumes.

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Also by Shirley Smothers:

Good Bye My Old Friend |


BLOG --- Its been a while... since my last confession!

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Bless me Father, for I have sinned...
Its been a hell of a long time since my last confession here!

As always with blog posts, it bes a while between them. I call them my "confessions" as it normally sums up what I have been doing in the while before them.

So, for the past year, we have had a number of poetry readings in Tullamore and thereabouts with theTullamore Rhymers Club that I am part of, an...

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BlogconfliceIrelandwriters ethcis

The Greatest Flame

You always said you worried
for the ones you'd leave behind
and what they had to go through
as they watched your health decline

I never fully understood
how you found the strength to fight
never once self pitying
though you had every right.

Never once did you complain
or state life was unfair
rejecting help because you felt
it better served elsewhere 

the tears you shed wer...

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Also by Matthew Nicholson:

Inhumane Treatment for the Sake of Existence | Picture of Health | Uncomfortably unable to be numb |

cancerlossPoemreal liferemembrancerhyme


entry picture


The sea with fury

Beating waves upon the shore

The birds - soaring high

But now the horror falls

Upon the blind man

Upon the dog who howls to the once blue sky

A child - who wonders if this is life

Crawls beneath the debris of his time


Seven times I heard their scream

Once I heard their death

Is this a dream ?


As I stumble in the mist

I try...

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Also by jean lucy thompson:


07212014-take the most enticing path

take the most enticing path
because all paths lead to death
do the fun one
because you're gonna die
stimulate someone
go on, live and lie
you're scared
and you don't know it
you hide in a house
believing you own it
you're internationally impaired
by no bombs in your neighborhood
seems like waste management
is the measure of good
because you're dirty
as the savages on tv
killing civ...

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Also by G.C. Dickson:

07082014-life is a piece of cake | it's around 35 |

switched off

You switch me off

You turn me on

You tell me I am the light of your life

But you switch me off

And you turn me on


Sometimes I feel so dirty and abused

I have got the fingerprints that prove

And still I let you touch me

You switch me off

And you turn me on


You push, you shove, you ram

You turn me on

You crash , you burn, you shout enough

And when you...

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Also by Martin Elder:

The red chair |

No longer an Item


(A modern tale)



Strange, the way their love disintegrated:

Spats and small disloyalties-petty spites-

Were for the most part causes. No reasons, really,

But squabble enough for their small hearts

And feeble loves. And though, at first,

There was an ache around the hollowness,

It was of small consequence – soon gone.


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Also by Harry O`N eill:


Minor Sin

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(In a rather dark humour so I thought to re-post this.  I do forewarn audiences this is a little shocking but they are always shocked)


The mission’s not impossible; it is not even hard;

I just enact the script for Him - a player, nothing more;

It’s happened in the future once it’s become His Word,

Which is to purge creation of the Babylonian Whore.


She worms her way throug...

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Also by John Coopey:

Honoured | Babies |


entry picture

The generators thunder on

Churning up the air like a thick furrowed plough

Relentless in sound

 A backbone to the field

which tastes like gasoline

Rumbling the undergrowth

The size of home is the thickness of this noise

And the area with which they spread their hold

Engine meeting engine black grimed

young men with dreadlocks bunched up like tree stumps

 long hair and...

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Also by Rachel Bond :

The Elk Dog. Retelling Myths and Legends. Blackfoot Tribal. | Bad Queen Mab a story from 'The Bond Grimoire.' |

A brew

~A brew, a brew, my kingdom for a brew!

The sturdy stalwart of mothers' meetings
far and wide, the bank manager's only consolation
to the father of four, battling debt, going bankrupt
the very next week.

The nightly soup kitchen, where the hand of friendship and support
lies within a steaming mug, dissipates thoughts of desperation,
bringing forth the will to fight another day, the warm...

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Something that you said
'He can't come with us, he's dead'
Stuck with me for decades
It still does.

Your Sister hoiked you shoulder high
Slapped you on her back
We chattered to the local shop
Bought Number 6 for old time's sake.

You mocked my endless misery
And told me 'don't wear black'
In our retro table football game
Played Norman Wisdom at left back

Forced me to dance to...

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I thought i was broke.

i thought i was broke:

I dragged my feet slowly to 'e bank,
pushed glass the door nd walked in ,
upto "e plump man at the reception ,
then handed in my account number ,
the bank balance was as ever is nil,
these figures made my heart sink,
i was breathing, walking i thought ,
fit healthwise for which i never pay,
enjoying 'ese services each second...

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Also by edwin wachira kuria:

a love letter from the sun to the moon |

Palaces of Words

Palaces of words.


We search for truth in thought, build palaces of words and pyramids of philosophy,  but how often do these palaces become crystal unclear prisons and our pyramids lead us to be encapsulated in our own sarcophagus.


How often is all this philosophising an exercise in futility, the seeds of idealistic theorising sown on council estate pavements that only seem to hold...

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Also by Ged Thompson/ A Liverpool Poet:

Whenever |

French Invasion

Since the bloody Battle of Hastings
When 'Arold got killed by French Bill
We've seen an endless invasion of French
And I've just about had my fill
Don't we have enough words of our own
In this wonderful language of ours?
- To seek and find le mot juste
Dunt take much linguistic power

It seems using French has been with us forever
Passed down as a fait accompli
Have we ever really tr...

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franglaislanguagetongue in cheek

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