Poetry Blogs (Mar 2016)
To and fro
To and fro
Thursday 31st March 2016 11:01 pm
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
Thursday 31st March 2016 10:45 pm
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...
Thursday 31st March 2016 10:42 pm
Also by ray pool:TIMESWEEP | GIGGING IN BLACKPOOL | THE HILL CLIMBER | DOOMED ATLANTIC FLIGHT March 1928 | BORN AGAIN | MOTHER NATURE THE FLOWER SELLER | ON CROMER PIER | DANSE MACABRE | THE CROWDS FORMED | THE LURE OF THE CAR BOOT SALE | YOU CAN'T STROKE A SPIDER | HYPOCHONDRIA | HEATHCLIFF | FANTASY WARD | THE CYCLIST | FALSE MODESTY | SEXUAL UNION | A VISITOR IN WALES |
Cloud banks rolling in
Cleaved apart with sunbeam swords
Thursday 31st March 2016 8:21 pm
Also by Rob J Mann:Haiku: Passing Wind | Haiku: Magic Brew | Haiku: Ballooning | Haiku: Stuck | Haiku: Determined to Die | Haiku: Constellation | Haiku: Illumination | Haiku: Flower Power | Haiku: Morning Sun | Haiku: Smokescreen | Haiku: Easter Jamboree | Haiku: Drought | Haiku: White on White | Haiku: Book Cover | Haiku: Shot Down | Pen Friend | Haiku: Insecure | Haiku: Timely Reminder | Haiku: Fading Away | Haiku: Invasion | Haiku: Dog Collar | Haiku: Searching | Haiku: Asphyxia | Haiku: Easy Listening | Haiku: Tectonics | Black Dog Returns | Haiku: Remember Summer | Haiku: Blithe Spirits | Haiku: Drained | Haiku: Tenno | Haiku: Counting the Cost | Haiku: Bathysphere | Haiku: Across the Room | Haiku: Rising Sap | Haiku: March |
Thursday 31st March 2016 6:48 pm
Also by Hari Das:If | Belief | Freedom | Sunrise | Maulana | Nandini | Some Words to Heaven |
And she will always reflect
the hidden traits
in which you already possess
~ nicoline ~
Thursday 31st March 2016 6:29 pm
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...
Thursday 31st March 2016 5:56 pm
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" |
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...
Thursday 31st March 2016 5:14 pm
Also by Victor Grauer:I:Version Two | Dance |
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...
Thursday 31st March 2016 4:37 pm
Also by Jocelyn Diane:Dream |
50 SHADES OF BLEACH
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,
I want to polish and fondle your brass knobs
until you sparkle all over my face
I want to disinfect your sticky, slutty su...
Thursday 31st March 2016 2:56 pm
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...
Thursday 31st March 2016 2:06 pm
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
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...
Thursday 31st March 2016 1:51 pm
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...
Thursday 31st March 2016 12:12 pm
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,
Thursday 31st March 2016 11:52 am
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
Thursday 31st March 2016 11:12 am
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?
Thursday 31st March 2016 9:12 am
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...
Thursday 31st March 2016 8:21 am
The Borough Market
her Thames like shoppers
ebb and flow.
floods and plagues
drained her dealings,
passed the coin
across her stall.
She smells of time
and stories told,
Thursday 31st March 2016 7:28 am
Also by Wolfgar:The Feast | A small low lying country | Hopeful inflection's fall | Martin Luther King | Fair trade | The great game | Entrenched | Pre atrocity thoughts | Fraudulent refugees | Curtain call | Eclipse | The authenticity of action (or, the ease of words) | The taking up of Snakes | Vantage point | I made my scar bleed | Closed book | Brighton rock | Orphans | Mothers day | And the story slipped away | A futile deliverance | Airport circle 22 February 2016 | Early first quarter reveiw |
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.
Thursday 31st March 2016 6:44 am
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 ...
Thursday 31st March 2016 6:22 am
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...
Wednesday 30th March 2016 9:50 pm
Also by Lynn Dye:Disappointment | Uncertainty | Haiku(s): David Cameron | Downfall |
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
Wednesday 30th March 2016 5:53 pm
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.
Wednesday 30th March 2016 3:45 pm
Also by M.C. Newberry:EASTER RISING | ENLIGHTENMENT SENSE | UNTITLED |
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 ...
Wednesday 30th March 2016 1:52 pm
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...
Wednesday 30th March 2016 11:40 am
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 |
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 ...
Wednesday 30th March 2016 11:27 am
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...
Wednesday 30th March 2016 10:37 am
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 |
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...
Wednesday 30th March 2016 9:41 am
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 |
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...
Wednesday 30th March 2016 12:02 am
Also by Keith Williams:Chatper 24: Melody | Chapter 23: The Beginning of Feeling Infinite |
The dress hangs from the door
She awaits his call,
Of lies and half remembered truths,
always someone else to blame
Forgiveness is the key
To the castle,
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 ...
Tuesday 29th March 2016 9:09 pm
more I try to be weightless
the heavier I am becoming.
My mind connects with the shock
that turns itself over and over
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
Tuesday 29th March 2016 6:52 pm
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
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 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
Tuesday 29th March 2016 5:53 pm
(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
Monday 28th March 2016 7:16 pm
Also by John Coopey:ALWAYS THINKING | English | 60103 | PASTURES OF PLENTY | DAZ | The Moorland Train | YGGDRASIL |
talent is spread too evenly round
for anyone’s words to truly resound
Monday 28th March 2016 2:20 pm
Also by Stuart Buck:write poetry | daisy daisy | running running | 22.3.16 | 24 | inhale/exhale | ghee wizz | new poetic form | nut | crawl back in | Winter | iPoem | the world state | - | when i love you next | i am aging like everyone else | free bird | 'Painting' - Joan Míro - 1927 | apoca(tu)lypse |
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!
Monday 28th March 2016 9:44 am
Also by Alem Hailu G/Kristos:A king born |
Monday 28th March 2016 1:45 am
Also by Lisa C Miller:Lisa Miller's Books and Poetry | Lisa Miller's Books and Poetry |
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
Monday 28th March 2016 1:38 am
Also by John E Marks:Testament |
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...
Monday 28th March 2016 12:25 am
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
I turn back and see rows,
of autumn-blushed houses
fall silent on this minute.
You are only a passing mist....
Sunday 27th March 2016 10:56 pm
Sunday 27th March 2016 10:08 pm
Also by David Lindsay:Puddings | Socks | Socks | Fruitless | The Dawn |
Just a minute is all it takes
To get up
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
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...
Sunday 27th March 2016 7:57 pm
Also by Martin Elder:Wedding dress | Dawn is dusk |
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.
Sunday 27th March 2016 4:16 pm
Also by Angela McCrimmon:Technology | Maybe Not Today | (untitled) | (untitled) | Missing you David+ |
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...
Friday 25th March 2016 8:10 pm
Also by Simon Austin:No Matter Where | She |
A CAGE WENT IN SEARCH OF A BIRD
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
should a bird fly in
and make itself at home.
What use is a co...
Friday 25th March 2016 5:28 pm
Infant eyes open
Watching mine cry
Tears of love.
Friday 25th March 2016 8:37 am
Also by Nigel Astell:Poetic Shades | It Trickles Down Your Leg | Anything Could Happen | Skin as Soft as Snow |
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...
Friday 25th March 2016 8:14 am
Also by Juhi Gupte:Unceremoniously |
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...
Friday 25th March 2016 8:02 am
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”,
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'
Thursday 24th March 2016 11:03 pm
Also by George Stanworth:Sometimes Love Strikes When It Isn't Expected |
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...
Thursday 24th March 2016 8:14 pm
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
Listening to the cockerel.
Waits as a tear develops
In his eye.
Kicking Love away to die.
Nowhere to go.
This isn’t how He meant it to be.
But here it comes.
The mounting wave of pain.
To wave His arms
And save Himself.
This is drowning.
This is drowning
In the sea of the Cross.
Thursday 24th March 2016 6:22 pm
Also by Phil Ireland:Musicians |