Poetry Blogs (Mar 2016)

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I fell

Into your



A crowd

Had gathered



From them

I fled


My legs


To take





I fell 




I wearily



My head


To and fro

To and fro 



Next time


‘I’ll do






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Ink reflects both ego and id

Thought, the sole control

Environ and gene seek to outbid

Their versions to extol

Words, the colours shining

Scurry from past unknown

Mind pictures defining

From nerve seeds sewn

No perfect is created

Acceptance of best seen

Complete is left unsated

As is the poets dream

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Also by Jacqueline Phillips:

Did You Know This? |


shock travels, sometimes quick

other times slow

the log splitter's axe

the forceful blow

or the ravage of tooth and claw

lightning striking a shivering moor.


These moments destroy their trace

in harmony with a quick embrace;

but when a look seems wild and torn as

the slow garrotte of heart and soul

follows the taking of life in vain

then there's damnation unde...

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Also by ray pool:


Babu's Death

Babu's Death


Each entry I made
Babu’s fumes I hailed
In the morning he told
Will be back
With some marigold
In the evening
He was back
With a crowd as jack
He was laying in a bed
It was new to our head
He was sleeping cold
In a white fold
Where is my marigold?
I goal'd 

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Also by Hari Das:

If | Belief | Freedom | Sunrise | Maulana | Nandini | Some Words to Heaven |

Street children

With an open eye

And she will always reflect

the hidden traits 

in which you already possess 

~ nicoline ~

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"Don't Let this Life pass you"

entry picture

Don't let this life pass you by,

Seek the Lord, break down and cry

He'll lift you up, He'll fill your cup

Yes even though the heart's corrupt

He'll change you from the inside out

Now isn't that what it's all about

God changing us from day to day

Like a figure from a lump of clay

The choice is ours to obey

The choice is ours to kneel and pray

If only we would trust His...

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Also by Adam Franks:

"Though Waters Roar" | "The Four Leaf clover" | "Lucky Otter" | "A Friend Who Still Loves Us" | "Marriage God's Gift" | "Broken Families" | "Even the Sparrows" |


To Cygnus

A swan in flight has been arrested,
Her bright wings splayed upon the Northern Cross.
Now she, from high, where high on high she’s nested,
Looks down through diamonds on this world of dross. 

From where her stern gaze momentarily lands,

The wind abruptly shifts then calmly stands
And the slant rain freezes all its glitter drops
To cop a sheet of brilliant mirror strands

That fix tr...

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Also by Victor Grauer:

I:Version Two | Dance |

Writers block


Here I sit

where you ask?

That is something i can not say,

you see where i sit does not matter

what matters is what i write when I sit

it could be about where I am sitting to

how my life is doing.


There are a million things

a million things people can write about

but at this very moment, here lies a blank paper

a paper that has emptiness spreaded all over


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Also by Jocelyn Diane:

Dream |

5O shades of Bleach

entry picture



I want to scrub you senseless

while wearing pink rubber gloves

I want to squirt my bleach 

down your scummy u-bend

then I’ll flush your porcelain  organ clean

I want to suck the dust from your filthy, strained,

 furry, rug

I want to polish and fondle your brass knobs

until you sparkle all over my face

I want to disinfect your sticky, slutty su...

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A series of very short poems and non poems about nothing special

A series of very short poems and non poems about the normal things in life


There was a scrunched up bit of paper

It sat in the corner of a room

It was Tuesday


A rhyme about cheeses

Brie, Brie, I love thee

Please won't you get into me

Camembert, Stilton and craft cheese slices 

That last one is not the nicest


At 4 o'clock each day, he ran

Except on the d...

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Also by Matt:

The Evil Tree | Into The Wilderness | An Ode to Online Dating | Sweaty Little Fingers | A lesson that I Taught |



Withering on yew tree vines

Left with no voice

Filling the graveyard broken dream mind  

Lost Pre Raphaelite desire

Creates a heartbeat


Compelling beauty

In silent splendour

Universal truth, embracing familiarity

Thick Paint lined  

Hands melancholy life


Moth lit fires

That spiral and swirl

Hold fire, lingering until nothing transpires...

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In virtual villas up silicon valleys

where slithering software saves smart system scans

as digital data on double-click disk drives,

pixelling programmers podcast their plans.


So beware blogging browsers with up-to-date hardware

fragmenting folders and battering RAM,

smashing your windows, uploading your icons,

cluttering your desktop with cookies and s...

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There’s mellowness in growing older,

Like sweet wine that lustres and glows,

Like a breath of warm air in the winter,

Like the petals that fall from a rose.


So you can’t run and stairs are a problem,

And to ease from your chair causes pain,

But the glory of life sings around you,

And you revel in every refrain.


Twenty-five thousand odd sunsets,


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Jim Saville

entry picture
NAVIGATORS They call us navigators
As we work all over this land
We’re not Micks, Paddies or taaters
So why can’t you all understand.
True some of us here are Irish
We’re English, Welsh and Scottish too.
So call us the name we’re proud of
As we dig these big ditches for you.
Don’t call us godless heathens
We work as our masters insist.
Working from Monday to Sunday
Following orders...

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older poets competition

nice idea, but 40 and over?  these people have only just learned to cross the road on their own. Now when will we get a competition for OLDER poets?

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older poets


Why try to be someone else, 

​It's fine being me.


So long I have hidden, 

​Imitating others so I can fit in,

So long each crowd I'm not welcome. 


The party goer needs a people that tries new things, 

The body of Christ needs a people that has perfect ways,

 Being in between doesn't suit anyone,  that say. 


You know?, I've been someone different at every poin...

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Let us be together

Let us be together, 

Till universe runs out of space

Till the light loses its pace
Till time stops for us at our ends so that we could hold hands, 

and kiss farewell.

Let us be together, 

For you are the reason I live for. 

For every wound you are the cure. 

And of one thing I am sure. 

  I'll love you everyday, more and more and more. 

Let us be together. 

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Also by Aditya Chauhan:

Let us be together | Oh! That immature love |

Rest in my loving Jesus arms

Rest in him he will make no demands

Feel his arms securely around you

Giving you strength and peace anew


See in his eyes a love that is true

Feel his cleansing, making you new

Grow into love and joy untold

And see his purpose for you unfold


He loves the young ones and the old

His love alone more precious than gold

So in his arms ...

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Oh no, not him again!

She places the cappuccino on the counter

and accepts the woman’s correct money

with a distracted smile. 

It is Monday morning after an eventful weekend

that was both ecstatic and disastrous

in equal measures

and now here was the reason in her queue waiting to be served. 

She would have got her assistant to serve him

but had just sent her on her brea...

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Also by Lynn Dye:

Disappointment | Uncertainty | Haiku(s): David Cameron | Downfall |

song for today

The third one was born alive
the second one so and so
the first let's forget about him.

Nobody said it'd be easy
to tread on this land of discomfort
to walk among throngs of discordants.

The first day he thought rain was sunshine
the second he drank from the pond
the third one he picked all the flowers

and wiped off his tears with their leaves
and lay on the petals till sunset

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Also by Celia:

Another night | Abstention | Atonement |


The man who worships death

May find death before his time.

The man who worships life

Will find life lives in this rhyme.


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Also by M.C. Newberry:


Minoan (03/30/2016)

soft waves breaking at ankle height
I could stand here a millennia
buried in the ebb of the Atlantic
eyes shut in starlight
a tourist to the shipwrecks 
that I've made to feel like home

sink like titans
relics recycled and burned
churned inward, twisted steel
molten and flash-cooled into islands
black, shining, bare
clean again, beaches of shedded
shredded, split history
in another ...

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sawtooth mountain run small island graveyard

By the Thames

entry picture

It’s the final burial ground –

the place where they go to die;

lapping dirt-brown waves;

tourist couples bidding goodbye.

Ships slicing through soundlessly,

as smog adorns the sky.

A pigeon hobbles by on its stump,

while a gull lets out a mournful cry;

beside benches, an old man holds out his cup;

on the cobblestones stands a solitary bride.

A homeless girl leans agai...

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Also by Leo:

Do you love me now? | The first muse | On poetry | At the gates of Hades | Is the moon blue? | The retiree | I have a letter from you | Belief and Knowledge | Tattoo | Do you | You and I met | Dear Sigyn |

HomelessnessinequalityLondonmodern lifesuicide

Twisted History

Did Jethro Tull invent the seed drill

While standing on one leg

And playing a flute?


Did Duran Duran build a pleasure machine

To erotically kill Barbarella

While singing Girls On Film?


Did U2 fly at great heights

Monitoring Russian airspace

While singing Angel Of Harlem?


Was Franz Ferdinand assassinated

Riding in a carriage in Sarajevo

While singing ...

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Also by Trevor Alexander:

Wild Atlantic Coast | The Wanderer | Oblivion | Rain |


They made too much brown bread so they had to find a way of getting rid of it.  They told us that brown bread was good for you. A lot better than white bread which they said was now pretty bad stuff. Of course white bread was fine when they were making too much of it. It’s a bit like that shortage of cigarettes they are trying to deal with by telling us all that they are killing us.

The kids ar...

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Also by Tramping Artisan:

I came upon a car boot sale | Lest I forget | That Whitsun when I walked | Tiny bird | My dad | The express bus |

oDd BaLL/ vIcTiM

Poor guy,poor guy.

The only one in his world.

Labelled village idiot

whose life has fallen around his ankles.


Lost boy to Mother.

Put paid to by Father.

Never seen at gatherings.


His mind skylarking

in the undetermined locations of a wandering mind

exhibiting its sad art.


Does he I wonder

in between fractions of a second

ever seminally hanker to s...

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Also by Patricia and Stefan Wilde:

Haiku: Maturity | Haikus:1-Firing up a poem /2-poetryfrying | Haiku: poet | Respite | Haiku: Schizophrenia | Haiku: Choclate egg | Gawd bless 'mi rhyming dictionary! | Sing-a-long-a-Vera | In with the out crowd | Gabbers | Correctional rant | Good grief! | Wooden hill | Loving a troubled Mother |

Chapter 25: Supernova

entry picture

I usually don't do stuff like this

Singing little cute melodies

Over a honey tune on my guitar

In front of an electric crowd.


I don’t know if anyone felt this before

That simple moment when you realize that you’re in love

Because there was nothing to gain

And that didn't matter.


You are the bearer of all that is beautiful

But I don’t mean beautiful in a traditi...

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Also by Keith Williams:

Chatper 24: Melody | Chapter 23: The Beginning of Feeling Infinite |



The dress hangs from the door

She awaits his call,

Princess syndrome,

Fleeting moments,

Of lies and half remembered truths,

always someone else to blame 

From this,

Forgiveness is the key 

To the castle,

People lie,

To save themselves

How does she know 

Hers is not the only dress 

The only door,

For in the sweet intuition

Of a woman's mind

The truth ...

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with less than a while

more I try to be weightless

the heavier I am becoming.

My mind connects with the shock

that turns itself over and over

nuzzling blindly,

feeling for my instinct to survive

lodged somewhere between mind and soul

rubbing its rawness against a staunch memory

but blurring with the threat of failure.


I am on the edge of time

being worn away by despair

squeezing thr...

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Also by Jemima Jones:

accommodating | questioning myths | consolations | pub trawled | sweet servitude | Summers collectibles | pig! | back from the edge | mounting the scaffold | beautiful loiterers | old school interferences | King Vanity | genus rosa | moist air | shortfall in my choice | Starring role | a soppy and bloody DANGEROUS incident! | age is NOT a factor! | D(avids)iscontinuance | Ace of the spade |


I’ve done it

She said

I’ve left him


Standing at my door

Red-faced and panting

Two bags at her feet

White cat under her arm


Pay the taxi

She said


She brushed her way past

Leaving the bags


When I came in

She was pouring the last of the milk


The cat sniffed at it

Then bounced off upstairs


She unzipped her boots and flopped


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entry picture

(Forget Marriage Guidance Counselling)


There’s summat that a husband like me dreads

That they ought to warn a bloke of when he weds;

That’s the sound of Our Gert’s call

And her ominous footfall;

That’s why the Great Almighty gave us sheds.


Before my sheds I’d guarantee fine well

I’d get caught doing nowt and I’d cop hell;

I tried mirrors round the yard and


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Also by John Coopey:

ALWAYS THINKING | English | 60103 | PASTURES OF PLENTY | DAZ | The Moorland Train | YGGDRASIL |

Stop Licking A Wound!


Cute girl, a dove
You grew up expectant
Of an inviolable love.

But,know there are things
You should, such as
Unfold the unexpected could.

Cute girl, ingratiatingly enjoying
A green light
To the citadel of your girlhood
At the height of your virginal beauty
Holding you close nude
Adept in creating the required mood,
A fickle womanizer may
Suddenly leave you for good!

Sister you...

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Also by Alem Hailu G/Kristos:

A king born |

#jilted #selfpity #dumped love sad lif

Easter Sunday Blue

entry picture

My father was not born an orphan

And now the state agrees

Absent. He is a holy mystery, to me.


The massacre of the Innocents

Children celebrating Easter blown into pink dust.

In the name of God.

The words of the prophet are perfect and deep

You sow as you reap

You sow as you reap.

The unholy priest

With the holy words

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Ghost Story III

Dear all;

Had a busy month on this month with the Goya Press annoucement earlier on this month and also having a hand with the Write Out Loud Stockport specials (as mentioned elsewhere on Write Out Loud) but the next big project I am doing is Ghost Story III as part of NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writing Month) following on from the last two years, Ghost Story and Ghost Story II.

Like last ye...

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Morning Mass

entry picture

Foot-torn, the path of leaves.

Dead, borders are green, still.

I am white.  I turn.

I am now looking with paled eyes,

across a broken pit of river

up, above some untidy shack;

the train on the hill climbs,

smoke billows, a raincloud summoned

from beyond.

I turn back and see rows,

of autumn-blushed houses

fall silent on this minute.

You are only a passing mist.


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EasterNew New


No beat
No goal
No rhyme
No soul
No heart
No joy
No play
No ploy
No voice
No sound
No sky
No ground
No black
No white
No bark
No bite
No legs
No arms
No powers
No charms
No fun
No games
No fire
No flames
No bricks
No steel
No drink
No meal
No word
No ink
No speech,
Just think
No trees
No leaves
No air
To bre...

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Also by David Lindsay:

Puddings | Socks | Socks | Fruitless | The Dawn |

Just a minute

Just a minute is all it takes

To get up

Get dressed

Take a shower

Take a leak

To decide which way to go

To share a coffee with a friend

To smile and laugh

To catch the train

To reach the airport


It takes just a minute

To wait

The check my passport

To make the decision

Which route to the boarding gate

Just a minute to hear the boom

To fall to the...

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Also by Martin Elder:

Wedding dress | Dawn is dusk |


entry picture

You see me in the world but I wish that I could hide,

So I hide the only way that I know how,

I find my escape from the things I keep inside,

I struggled way back then and still do now.


I pass you in the street and I mouth the word "hi"

My hurried steps tell you I do not,

Have time to chat, I have to rush on by,

I'm so busy....or at least that's what you thought.



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Also by Angela McCrimmon:

Technology | Maybe Not Today | (untitled) | (untitled) | Missing you David+ |

Should We Walk By?

entry picture

Should we walk by the waters edge
Or swim against the flow,
Where men in oceans, stained with red
Live shortened lives below?

Should we walk by the waters edge
Or break against the waves,
Where women flounder where they fled
In watery graves?

Should we walk by the waters edge
Or thrash against the tide,
Where children drown in sunken beds
Whose parents made them lie?

Should we wa...

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Also by Simon Austin:

No Matter Where | She |






What use is a cage

that's become afraid


of its own trappings -

its mirror, its bell its swing?


What use is an opening 

that doesn't stay open?


What use is a perch

that doesn't stay still?


No use thinking things

will change


should a bird fly in

and make itself at home.


What use is a co...

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short poem

Flute and the Cross



Descends amidst the catastrophe

Prefers the straw over thrones

Tends the grazing cattle

Frolics that “dark-skinned”

With the street urchins

Aiming stones at the earthen pots

“Trades of milk”; he aptly defies

First feed kids in the countryside

Heals the wounds with peacock feather

Melts over pounded rice of the poor

Colours all in tunes of oneness

Of his s...

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Also by Juhi Gupte:

Unceremoniously  |

Easter Collage Poempoem

The Bain Of Mankind

They can kill us maim us berieve us . Our faith our beliefs  are our own . Never preached or planted in our minds by people full of hatred and , The Bain Of Mankind . We bring people In to this world and they just take them away to do what they say . No remorse felt for others they leave disabled or dead . Their existence is taken because of this thread . Our fight is for our lives , and not for t...

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Also by Wendy Higson:

Blamed For Being In Care | All Women |

"I'm Leaving For A Wetter Man"

I’m Leaving For A Wetter Man

“I’m leaving for a wetter man”,

your email said. My humour’s dry.

Surely you meant “Better man” or “Weatherman”.

“I’m leaving for a wetter man” -

Perhaps I should have bought a dam,

or dressed up in a puddle tie.

“I’m leaving for a wetter man” -

your email said. My tears won’t dry.


From my new collection of 'Short Funny Love Poems'


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Also by George Stanworth:

Sometimes Love Strikes When It Isn't Expected |


The day before work

entry picture

All of a sudden the air becomes thin

And the glee of jumping out of work on Friday like a drunken chimpanzee is gone

Instead the day becomes heavy…

Weighed down in disbelief that the minutes are ticking faster and faster

“Surely it’s not already twenty past three”

Then the evening falls, like a Transylvanian night

The gargoyles and wolves howling as you are passed your last right...

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Also by David R Mellor:

Donald Trump’s felt | Don’t Take Me to the airport | No Words | A bit of vine |

For the third time

For the third time

Listening to the cockerel.
Waits as a tear develops
In his eye.
Kicking Love away to die.

He waits.
Nowhere to go.
Except down.
This isn’t how He meant it to be.
But here it comes.
The mounting wave of pain.
Entreating Him.
To wave His arms
And save Himself.

This is drowning.
This is drowning
In the sea of the Cross.


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Also by Phil Ireland:

Musicians |

Good Friday

When a child asks about the cruelty in the world.

Switch off the TV’s

Cover their ears

Wrap them in cotton wool

Drink all their tears

Drown them in fairy tales

Sing them sweet songs

Take them to places

The bad don’t belong

Bathe them in sunshine

Shower them with love

Serve them their childhood

Wearing kid gloves.

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Also by Ronnie Leek 1:

They lay |



entry picture



I will not be defined by ancient Gods,

or the archaic teachings in their books.

I will tread warily around their words

and avoid the hidden traps and snaring hooks.


I will not stand behind a coloured flag

and spout my blunt imperialistic views

or drape it on a coffin when I die

or burn it on the early evening news.


I will not make a choice that’s...

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