poetry (Remove filter)


No one likes lonliness,

It's an endless pit of darkness.

Battling gruesome demons,

Struggling to forget those wretched memories.

Decayed flowers and surging tides,

Lonilness is sleep deprivation, a weak soul, a cold heart, 

Lonliness is my biggest demon.

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What would we do if the poems ran out

our energy supplies cut off?


How would we explain that away

without the words and what they convey?


Like the blind we'd have to evolve

with only the touchrod of insight to solve


those infinite days and their challenging ways


to stumble over imponderable matters

and stare at statues

or bleakly at sunsets

devoid ...

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Fancy That!

Fancy That!

'Sue fancies Bill.
Bill fancies Tim.
Tim fancies Jane.
Jane fancies Jim.

Jim fancies Kate.
Kate fancies Anne.
Anne fancies Pete,
and Pete fancies Sam.

Sam fancies Rob,
but who fancies you?'

'Mum, I don't care,
while I'm having a poo!'

Would you like the chance to win a £10 Amazon Gift Voucher?If so, then enter an original short funny poem of 12 lines or less by mid...

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CompetitionFunny PoemsPoetry

The Cucumber Plot

I have a large knife in my hand
and I’m not afraid
to skin this mother
to sliver away at the
stiff upper lip of a
toughened epidermis
banish wrinkles, dents and prickly bits
and behold it
cleansed, stripped, unveiled
If you ask me again
I will plainly chop
the thing in two
while I wonder what I could be

This repast, the fourth of the day
mentally diarised between
broken blinds and...

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I faced the judges

the line of their strength

read my poem

as best I could

my finest up 'til now I thought

the duration being of acceptable length.


      Silence ensued

      a row of stares.


I rose to leave

the room at once

my dreams and my art

in hopeless tatters.

"Shall I close the door?" I said

"Yes if you will," said one of the -----



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Ramsbottom Literary and Arts Festival

On 21st November 2015, we all swing into action to light up the whole town with words and arts!

Make a day of it.. Arrive on the ELR as part of their Ales and Tales event. Come for brunch and leave your kids writing in the library 

Events for all the family all day and an 'adults only' theme in the evening as poetry meets burlesque.

See the website for details www.rammylitfest.com.

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artburlesquecreative writingfestivalLiteraturepoetry


I see you

I hear you

I feel you

Is what you tell me 


I keep explaining

Keep excusing 

Keep blaming myself


Don't tell me you understand


- nicoline 

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feelingPoempoetrythoughtsunknown feeling



A word on a line
joined with many and more,
a story to tell 
from behind a closed door.

A line on a page
and a paragraph to make,
from a thoughtful sage 
to the ones who forsake.

A page in a book 
telling tales short and tall,
just have a quick look,
hear the whispering call.

A book on a shelf,
many dusty old tomes,
a wealth of words 
from across quiet rooms...

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We’re doing crosswords in the pub

Because that’s what lovers do

When they fall out of love

Crosswords in the pub


We don’t speak much anymore

Except to discuss clues

Because that’s what lovers do

When disenchantment ensues


We’re doing crosswords in the pub

But at least we’re still together

Keeping each other company


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David SubacchipoetryWelsh PoetsLiverpool Poets


Sitting a stool;
with my guitar.
It came to me as before
Strumming the tune; and
the music flew.
in beautiful silence.
My deep, dark defiance
So many times I have tried
to clear my mind; but
clearing the throat
of faded memories
still vivid only to me
The pitch is horse
As the feelings are on course
The patter continues; and
I can't help myse...

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lovelove poetrypoetryuink

Press Release - GREY SUN, DARK MOON by Trevor Maynard

~~PRESS RELEASE – GREY SUN, DARK MOON, a new collection of poetry by Trevor Maynard

Publication Date:   September 14, 2015, Amazon $19.99/£14.99
Contact:  Trevor Maynard, poetry@trevormaynard.com
Website:  www.trevormaynard.com
Press copies:  Available on request in .pdf or paperback

Taking us from Sunrise, through Morning, then Later, into Dusk, and concluding with Night, this ...

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poetryTrevor MaynardPoetic Bondlovedeath

Poem in response to #refugeecrisis

It's been there all week...an undercurrent of urgency, despair and crisis.  It's been hard to think that the minutiae of my day to day tasks matter in the face of unspeakable horrors happening for folks who are just trying to find safe spaces.  It's been challenging to temper my desire to help/donate/contribute in some way with the fact that there are also folks close to home who are in urgent nee...

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The Chocolate Poetry Club

I am delighted to take up the position of poet in residence at The Chocolate Poetry Club in London. It is exciting to be part of what is happening in Camberwell, which I know will be bubbling over and beyond. Many thanks to all Chocolate Poetry lovers and to Paul for believing. xxx

Hello friends of CPC,

Over the next few months we will be makin...

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Oh deep, dark depression,

my uninvited guest,

the persistence of oppression

is precluding my life’s zest.


The dark before sunrise

of a dawn that just won't break,

suppressed by a thirst for my soul

that only sorrow can now slake.


The wisps that you are weaving

are clouding my damp eyes,

a cold and cloying shroud

that’s covering all that I desire.



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How can a lie

make the whole world cry,

yet they claim there is nothing to see,

where nefarious knaves

and the covetous crave

beneath covers so stealthily, free?


No thought for the plebs

as they weave dangerous webs

in a world already complex,

where the sins of the saints

have done nothing but taint,

confuse, deceive and perplex.


To forgive and forget,


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May the ink that flows

from the nib of my pen,

forever entertain you.

With words of love;

of life and wonder,

like beams of light

through clouds of thunder.


May the blood that flows

through my hand as it writes,

forever reassure you.

With thoughtful verse

and encouraging rhymes,

to ease you through

your challenging times.


May the emotions that fl...

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To feel her warm and gentle hand

upon your smiling face,

her tender loving caress is like

a sweet and soothing grace.


Teasing, as your fingers

trace a tantalizing trek

along her silken stockings

as you tenderly kiss her neck.


Gazing into enchanting eyes

so deep with dark desire,

whirling pools of life and lust,

dancing in dangerous fires.


A hint o...

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The whistle blows to sound the charge

and over the top they bustle and barge,

covered from head to toe in mud

and soon tainted with flesh and blood.


Up the ladder with slippery rungs,

a scream of rage from terror filled lungs,

adrenalin coursing through every vein

with the fear of not coming back again.


Knee-deep mud sucking boots from feet,

tangled in barbed w...

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The stains upon the bar

tell of many sad tales

of love, loss and tragic lives;

and drink to drown out the wails.


Another washed out soul

seeks the solace of the glass,

to wash away the memory

of another broken pass.


Another wheeler-dealer,

another gambling god,

another weary player

bet his life upon the sod.


The rings around his eyes

mark the t...

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The flickering light calls from

across the disused railway embankment

like a lonely beacon sending signals

into the misty grey dawn.


Quietly questioning a world

still wrapped in strong arms of slumber.

I consider sending an answer,

would that I understood its coded question.


I’m drawn into its intoxicating world by

the pulsating rhythm of its incandescent heart...

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How frail, in truth,

is the world that we tread?

Captains and kings

claiming calm sea’s ahead

as they’re riding high

upon their silver spoons

laughing, as below

the world withers too soon.


How thin the membrane

of life’s brittle bubbles,

building our barriers

and avoiding all troubles.

Do we wonder at the reasons;

do we hide or protect

as we inch to t...

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Writing 'proper' poetry

Peppercorn eyes or was it peppermint eyes, does it matter?

Something...orginal eyes! Something blazing eyes...something dreamy and crapper.

Yes, so he tasted of morning breath and the blandness of saliva

but just write that he tasted of strawberries and hope because that sounds a lot nicer!

...Wait... stop! The ryhme is off!

Can you have more ryhme this time, less variation.


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“But it’s not my fault”,

cried the mouse in dismay,

“I though I knew where I was

but appear to have lost my way”


Sat at the foot of my bed

with his hands under his head,

he tried through his tears

to relate what is here.




I set out early this morn

after nibbling on some corn

for my breakfast, on the cob is best.

I was raring to ...

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A single word;

a phrase or gesture

can trigger a feeling

of wondrous rapture.


To be told that you're worth

more than the drifting sands

that daily slip through

your trembling hands.


To be surrounded

by such appreciative people

makes me want to shout

from the highest steeple.


Words of thanks,

so loud that you all know,

that for you, the ink


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Standing close behind
She shudders in anticipation
For his commanding touch; but
He denies her such satisfaction
Only applying goosebumps to her skin
His hot breath teases increasing her adrenaline
Fingers hooking the straps of her top
Pulling over those soft shoulders
Drawing down ever slowly like molasses 
Cascading over skin on winter morning
The cloth rolls over nipples perked
As ...

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You’re like a perfect picture of everything
Your mind, your laugh
That genuine smile 
You’re like a breath of fresh air
So pure, curable
It’s insane how you made me feel 
You want me to believe I’m sane. 

I almost lost in all hopes
Love, life, happiness in whole
It was a downfall, endless hole
Somehow you came into my life 
And proved the world isn’t that bad after all.

Your words ...

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Sailor Song

i am drawn to

    seas of clouds above in nothingness    

                    the seas of water

    the seas of open land and forests

    the cities with seas of

                        concrete and people

i was born to be a



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I don’t want to be in a hundred places.
I don’t want to drown in a million faces.
I don’t really know them.
I don’t want to show them who I am.
I just want to dam this increasing flow
Of places, faces I can’t put my finger on.
If I close my eyes they should be gone.
But they linger, hanging on,
Banging on like a spoilt brat.
Droning on about this ‘n’ that,
Like a coll...

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Day In/Day Out

The time of labor start once one clocks in

as the money is important for survival.

Better to have it than being flat broke.

Despite what those on the outside peeping in may say,

this man right here isn't flipping patties for nothing.

For he longs to return to his life back home,

which ran smooth like molasses

then snapped in half like a pair of glasses.

As the infallible re...

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motivationpoetryreal liferedemption

Mother's Helper

In case you didn't know,
And so you will remember,
Just think of what you hold,
And here is something simple,

And, so you will remember,
I'm tying this string on your finger.
Here is something simple,
Of why you came to be there.

I'm tying this string on your finger,
And mind your mother,
Of why you came to be there,
Think why we took the bother.

And mind your mother,
When you l...

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Hello there. Here is a new, ridiculous poem about fannies and the joy of owning one. If you are reading this in the US, fannies means front bottom and it’s only ladies that have them.  Oh yes, I have published a real book made of paper; it's called Slightly Wrong, and it is full of daft poems. It's a bit rude. You can get it from Amazon here if you are desperate.


Fannies arrive in al...

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poetrycomic verseLouise Etheridge

Songs from Troy

O' sing for Aphrodite, when she fled
The bonds of heaven, to rescue her son,
When trapped in battle at the war of Troy,
Instead of choosing to sit idly by,
She dared to shrug the burden of her tears
And take the winged chariot into battle,
And, reaching for her love, was stopped by spear,
And cries of passion rose against the sky
Before she sought the refuge of her chambers
To mourn the l...

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The Lady Black

The spider in her web, 
Waiting the night, 
Expecting love to come,
And slake her thirst.

She lies wrapped in
Chambers of silk,
And she lays her hand 
Upon the windowsill,
Looking for her lover.

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A pair of field guns stand

Backs to the castle

Redundant barrels

Harmlessly aimed

At the high street

A sign reads

'Please do not

Climb on the guns'

As if children

Could pose a threat

To these two

Retired killers

Worn with age

Weary with boredom

Never to speak again.


We stare for a while

Examine them closely

Find nothin...

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David SubacchiLiverpool PoetspoetryWelsh Poets

Call for Submissions - THE POETIC BOND V

~~Press Release
Date:   March 27, 2015
Subject:  Call for Submissions for THE POETIC BOND V
Contact:  Trevor Maynard, email poetry@trevormaynard.com
THE POETIC BOND is an international poetry anthology published in paperback annually.  This year the series is entering its fifth year, and expectation is once again high for this year’s crop of poems.  Over 120 poets from 17 diff...

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poetrypoemtrevor maynard

How I Want You

How I want you

The way I like you

Ready and willing

Dressed in lingerie

With a kinky appeal



How I want you

The way you like to

Pleasing us integrity

Showing your ability

That kinky appeal



How I want you

Lingerie and body to flow

Lips to travel down low

Tasting sex appeal

Wanting ...

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Forging of firmness in frail frigate

Unision is unlikely to happen

Cranky & cruel words spew at will

Kicking down walls of decency and etiquette

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On this very night

come friends old and new

laughing on the past.

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night outpoetryhappinessfriendship

Love Anagram

Love Anagram
Complicated terms never drafted, they just happened
unravelling frayed threads called our relationship.
Left in denial, drowning with an anchor called your companionship, 
being on the opposite spectrum.
Teetering in constant emotion, 
like an ironic conundrum.
Where only thing to throw us a life line, 
is for us to...

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O' Rose,
my heart once dipped in
thy fount of beauty,
you were there,
beautiful and bare
in your fortified heaven,
and, woe the day
I felt your face upon my palm.

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Orginally posted on www.uink.ca







Aloofed characters we'll see

Lost in the translation to hopeless dreams

Observations of selfish greed

Never to be complete

Ending life on "E".






Longing to find "a" single character to stitch to incomplete seams


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The Junk Shop

I was lost among the old junk,
in the farthest of corners, when
I heard a clock ticking away.

It had a rhythm of its own,
though the ticks were separate
it appeared to echo instead,

and when I watched the clock face,
the second hand would twitch a bit
before jumping to the next notch.

'Must be a pice of junk,' I thought,
then I looked down and checked my watch,
and it read the sam...

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The Winter Light

How is it so beautiful, winter?
When I look around outside,
I'm reminded how precious the light,
The smiling sun letting me know
The joy in the white of the snow,
And the blessing of time, and open eyes;
How precious the light in this time of year.


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Belong To You

When, whatever you want

I'm here for you, always near

In any circumstance.

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Cold at the Pump

Cold at the pump, I rub my hands together,
But, for a moment, there’s nothing there,
And I search for the pockets of my coat,

My breath faces its very death and fades,
And somewhere in the air, I leave it there,
And notice my time is ticking away,

The cold gets in close and I feel the chill,
When I realize I’m getting mugged by it,
And shiver and shudder at the thought of it,
When all...

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My Heart

When I had first laid eyes on you days after we first met

I felt i had finally found someone I could call my own.

Knew you were different than the other women.

As months went on, I'd grown to appreciate everything about you

from your radiant smile that lights up my day

to your warm embrace when our bodies become one.

As well as your bubbly sense of humor.

It shouldn't be hard ...

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lovepoetryromantic poems

Promise Me

When my hands begin to tremble

You’ll place your hand in mine

When my eyes become hollow

That you’ll gaze into them

When I’m at a loss for words

You’ll kiss me so the silence

Can speak for the both of us.

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Is this ritual or adventure

See how quickly

The words are written

No longer anonymous

Is this a box to check

A form to fill

A contract to renew

An essential procedure

The mind indifferent

Even irritated but....

The heart restless

Insistent that this

Is not an option

Ink on cardboard

Flesh on flesh

One forever...

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David Subacchipoetryvalentines dayWelsh PoetsLiverpool Poets

I don't know where I am I don't know what to do  All I know is I'm lost I'm simply lost in you Although there's nothing simple about you There's nothing simple with what I feel A current in my heart A shock through my veins The touch of you would be the end of things I feel the closeness descend Yet there's nothing we do I'm ready to give you my all But I'm scar...

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Gone Till April

Hope I make the most of my gifts. 

I'd be damned if I stayed the same person I was a year ago

Willing to work for mine, fuck a handout.

Whether it be a full-time nine to five or freelance, I'm gunning

for the top where I oughta be.

Not a rapper, just a brother presenting a gift for the world to see

possibly change someone's life.

All I want is for my family and my girlfriend t...

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