Poetry Blogs (May 2016)

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With just enough light in the sky to take out

the newspapers of yesterday

and arrange them, padding in

the galvanised bin;

smoke twists

in a neighbour's garden -

I cup hand and call,

remark upon the vagaries of the weather

and the recent tree

felled on Cobb Hill.


In response I get a half-turn

and shoulder shrug, grunt

of some approximate affirmative,


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Also by David Blake:

Deliberations On Canvas |

New New


The unclean are omitted, 

a different view cast aside, 

there is no place in England 

if you are from the other side

judgemental press, hide behind a lie

fabulorised stories, tut tuts and sighs

they say "how dare you be disabled,

unemployed or high

when a decent working man cannot afford to fly".


Look to your store with a shiny clean floor welcoming people in, filth...

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Also by PatricioLG:

Have a shave |


She took the blame of me

and made it her own

twisted all our words into knots

that they might strangle hope and trust

with that serpent mind, outside of inside

that dragged around all the beauty

in a cloth sack

pulling us back, and I

fought it but she bit my tongue out

strangled me with it

so that all the sadness would float away

to an island of dreams,

and I ma...

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Also by ray pool:





I’m throwing out light

Wherever I go

Making everyone’s day

So warm and bright

I’m gleaming, I’m shining.


Touching everyone with my glow

Wherever I go

Illuminating, providing insight

So everyone will know

I’m radiant, I’m shining


Light exploding all around

Wherever I go

Mirror-ball shards of light

Each dark corner is found

I’m re...

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Also by Andy Smyth:

Second congregation | Time to go? | A blank sky | Pride | Holiday time | Tears (obviously an 'off' day) | More silly stuff.... | Dark and Light | Priorities | Words | Flying | Daft | Fun and Sad | Counties and stuff | Daughters | A nod to Peter Grimes | A mugging | Feeling Melancholy (whoever she is) |


Timothy Leary ain't dead man-no!-he's only outside looking in!

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Oh! the explosive nineteen sixties!

those lovely Rizla faggies enhanced with  pot

the demise of velvet collared Teddy boys

and how muchly acid hit the spot


when so many kaftan'd flocked to Frisco

or chilled out in Marakesh

maybe hitched a ride to Woodstock

when flowers in their hair were fresh.


Many Legends of those swinging scenes

carry on performing to this d...

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Also by Patricia and Stefan Wilde:

Sackcloths | cause and effect | Quadruple 6 | Quadruple 5 | Safe? marooned? | praising toleration | typical siege | a love letter I should have sent | exchanges |

And What Of The Children

And what of the children as yet unborn?

Who speaks out for them and will take their part?

As the world watches the hellbound handcart

Spiralling downwards with future stillborn.


When our great great grandfathers walked the land,

It should have been simple to chart a course

Keeping hold of hopes to husband resource,

But now supply is outstripped by demand.


So what ...

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Also by Trevor Alexander:

Kids! | Ode To The Passing Of A Friend | The Legend Of Finn MacCool | To Be Alone | Growth | On Line Dating | Choices | The Hunter | Me | Fancy | I Thought I Knew You | Old House |


Battle of our chests

There is a war rallied between our hearts:

some people say love,

other people play love.


But when life becomes a game,

when words can only be spoken by characters,

when breath can only be projected by theatre

then I lose myself...so you lose me....and I risk losing you....

And the curtains fall shut -

Shows over.

And the dice stops rolling -

We lost the bet.



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Also by Alexandra Parapadakis:

When the World is Not Enough | Loving the girl from the moon |

complicateddangerousdestructivefalsegamesheartbreaklovepainunrequited love

Cold Hearted Persuasion

A severed artery blissfully glowing with crimson stare

Emptied of all but memories, scarred by dreams embalmed with fear

Held the wind in my hand but have I?

Have I held the wind in my hands?

Gave a kiss to a corpse

A cold embrace defines you

Beguiled by the ocean scent

Buried in the sand are my hopes for an indigo sky

As for the remains of a broken soul

Somewhere beneat...

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Also by kimafia Jones:

Hourglass Appraisal | Love Note #3 | Naked | New Beginnings |


“It isn't enough for your heart to break

because everybody's heart is broken now.” - Allen Ginsberg


we are all brittle and spotless and so infinite

standing under the same endless spark blue sky

staring through the generations of madness

to find a reason for this seeming insignificance

and god is not the reason but man is the reason

man and his eternal need to cause suffe...

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Also by Stuart Buck:

a cinquain for a troubled mind | pg-13 | naked | sour | things i would say to you if i wasnt busy lying | katteken | full fat shit times | serotonin | summer haiku | gallery | untitled | flat | sad news | sometimes the only way to react to this life is to find hope in stupid things. | sad/beautiful | i am hopeless and you are hopeless and together we have hope | diner | arborio |

School Days - Best Days Of Our Lives?


The pallor of the parquet floor
Brings recollections of
School, its classrooms, its corridors

Somehow the pattern pulls
Me into a journey through
Time; conjuring images

Of art and assemblies,
Of laughter and lateness,
Of parents and pupils and plans:

For a future unknown;
For escaping the lessons
And the chill of those changing rooms.

A mishmash of memories,

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Also by Paul A M Palmer:

A Poem For Spring - Ms. Shannon Frog | The Office Waits ... | Mare's Tail |


nomadic neccessity

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Front page pain.

Saga's of suffering

daily engraining


the forcibly exiled

deserving to rhyme

with freedom

not eternal sleep

beneath waves

drowning with dreams.


Once upon

a war torn country inhabitants

attempting to dance with hope


now reluctant voyagers

who should not be


nautically experimenting


while clinging


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Also by Jemima Jones:

getting a life-BACK! | living the mistake | towards a calendrical question | last of a man | obsolescence | Mr Nonchalant | This | arseholes with aerosols | Closure | punch bag |


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The Price Tag 
There's an S and a line through it. The S to me is savor.
now the thing with that is when life gives you lemons,
that "s" gets two lines the s is greed and usually bad intention.
or help it to grow and when it grows that s becomes an S,
and thats how the money symbol is despise.
Lives have been taken countries have been dispanded.
Those lines just seem bigger. The moment I em...

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I feel

free to be 

I feel

free to be me.

Not a care.

Just for everybody.

I feel good.

Like everyone should.

Friends are gold

and family is priceless.

I'm glad I know. 

But I don't know everything.

Not yet.

I can't wait.

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Also by Miss:

Lob star | Up on |


Do you 


If I 






I won't


Do I


If you 



I care

I don't 






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Barefoot in the City

Cocktails tangy fruity and plenty of punch

swaggering from bar to bar getting drunk

swaying into a Sunny Days tanning saloon

cubicle three a bronzed model to be

feeling sexy and sweaty heat is on

dizzy and tipsy but feeling absolutely devine

skimpy white towel slightly slippling sliding away

wonky legs trying their best to walk

legless but carefree shiny golden goddess brow...

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City streaker spotted causing traffic to slow down

Half heart.

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"Stories.They were just stories and lies.She was just like any other girl.Memories.His laughter ,his comforting smile,the warmth.Everything.How could everything be a lie?How could he just leave her,the one who thought him to be her world?"


Deep breaths, a beating heart.

A sorrowful face,a shrill sound.

Cold winds and a memory,

There she was standing on the cold hard ground.


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Also by Solasta:

The lost girl. |




When I was young I learned to dance.

Early on I took the chance to swerve,

To have the nerve to move my hips,

Have the balls to move my lips and shout.

There never was a moment of doubt

I would be the one to blame.

I would have a claim to fame.

I would be the one who’s always brash.

I would be just Northern trash, with attitude.

The one who’s r...

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" Unspoken "

I can vividly picture you out,
Distinctly could see your shimmering face in the crowd,
Those big round eyes always had its magic shine,
How can I forget that immaculate smile.. superfine!

You were playful, always in delight,
Even the wrong days just seemed perfectly right,
And overhearing you speak everytime filled in    
my mood with glee,
For a moment I felt shaken a bit, but it held m...

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Also by Prabhat Chhetri:

Relentless | Rising to decimate |

I Walk The Streets

I walk the streets, danger I see.
Hope tonight God looks after me.
Desperate, nowhere else to turn.
I walk the streets, a living to earn.

Mouths to feed and a habit too.
A broken past, left black and blue.
I get looks of hate, dirt and sneer.
These streets I walk, I walk in fear.

With envy I see other girls pass by.
To be just like them so hard I try.
A car pulls up under the dim light.

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The People and The Trees

Why do the trees get to be old,

and still be beautiful?

Why do we hunch with age,

while they tower with longetivity?

Why does our flesh fall apart,

while theirs remains unfaltering?

Why do we cycle through generations,

while they simply watch?


Why do the people get to change,

and still be beautiful?

Why must we stay in one place,

while they go as they please?


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Also by Chandler Phipps:

Coite Bodher | Wailing Capital |


to return to that place, I say not, but only

to find what was once lost

to fix the broken part of me..broken

to make what never was

to pull down the shade screens formed

to blind the penitent to newly ordered crimes

and forever fix this rift between the fixers and I.

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Also by nunya:

rainmaker | roi | sheering the sheep | mystic pets | desaparecido | bait and switch | tgft | shudder | wrinkled notes | prod and projection | attention deficit | nightfall | bombardment |


Each life and Mary

Each life

Is our life

My life 

Not your


Your life

Is your life

Not my life

A commitment


We can peer

We can steer

We can


Be near

Over fear

Or drear

Shed a tear

A sharing


We can love

We can hate

We can holy 


Deep contemplate

Lost fate

Can’t create

Deaths sad state

Ive never seen so much nothing


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Also by Phil Kay:

Undo the knot and paint me a portrait. | And So. | Amsterdam damage. | Homage | To the drum. | Days. | Stranger things | Keemo Kids | Struggling through. | Homage to Joe | Only Words. | My Granddad. | Tears tears and love. | My mate Nick. | bbc is Tory TV. | Warsaw 1944 Ghetto |



If you crawled inside my head, you'd find a room filled with words, upon the walls: pretty lies. Upon the glass pane Windows: gorgeous views. Upon the ceiling: all the darkness within. Upon the floor: cute sayings. And where lay the bed, upon the sheets, words of you, describing beauty lost between the heart and soul, and upon the pillow scents of you to remind me of your prescence, but even ...

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Also by Eric Jensen:

Chasing empty lives |

3 am

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Stopping enroute to pee

I catch the moon’s great white face

shining at the window like a prison

light above the courtyard.

Whoever it was looking for

must be long gone,

there is nothing now

except for a few delusions;

like your shadow in the dark

and the ghost of the cat

that recently died

brushing his way quietly

between my legs.

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Also by Tom Harding:

For Sydney |

The Way the World Ends

This is the way the world ends.
Not with a bang, but with a whimper.
Do not fear the light of the dying star for it will yield no pain.
It is mortal, it is ended.
Fading out like the dimming of the candle, then extinguished, forever.
No light shall ever again grace these barren lands
As dust forever billows across its scarred surface
And drinks its voluptuous seas.
Like a standing ovation,

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Forget most gangsta rappers

It's getting out of hand

When they say they know Killers

They're probably talking 'bout the band


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The English see what the English are

And - whilst rarely known to brag -

Know they're more by far than a jaundiced star

Stitched up on a made-up rag.


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Also by M.C. Newberry:



Hearts are true

Voices are new 

People and places

Shoes and laces

Yes or no 

Rain or snow

Sun but moon

Walked but flewn

Rubys are red

People are pink



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Do Something.

Why does nobody do anything?
Why does nobody do anything?

Live for the weekend
Watch TV
Live for the weekend 
Watch TV
Out on the town for the weekend
Watch TV Watch TV

Why does nobody do anything?
Why does nobody do anything?

Escape into your escapism
Get lost in your escapism
Trust in your escapism 
Get trapped into escapism
Escape from your escapism 
Escape from your self m...

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Also by Matt:

Spontaneous human combustion | Drawing from an empty barrel | Letting go... | We're off to Never never land - Paracetamol, cucumber sandwiches and the Lost rent boy |





So new and fresh


Thank you

Thank you for the

Tits and cock

The Swastika

The shocking swirl of

Random bollocks

Rattled and

Hissed out

In reds and greens

Blues and



The phantom genius of

Raw art

Screaming it across

Every brick


And I’d love to know

Who you are

Where you live


So I can give


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Also by mike watts:

All to come | Thirst | Bookshop Millie | I kid you not |

The 5ive

The truth is the feeling of the absence of feeling is the loudest.


To become so accustomed to it that once it's gone the customs are blind and without direction.


Memory's flow throughout the mind when the scent of it strikes the nose like past against the present.


Without thinking of it you feel the brush of air slide from the base of the neck to the crest of the ear.



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brokenbroken hearted poemcaliforniaexperiencelos angeleslovelove lostpoempoetryreal lifesad


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It’s occurred to me recently how enormously impressive is the range in design of corkscrews.

I managed for years with a conventional one; one-pieced with a T-bar, as I still have on my penknife.

But now I may choose between those with a collar and side-arms, those which lever on the bottle’s neck or even those which inject gas to pop the cork out.  There’s the Raymond Blanc, the rechargeable...

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Also by John Coopey:


Visiting Hours

rain again tonight.
light scatters
on the  pavement
like glass

i remember
the broad
curve of the river
keeping time
with the windows
of the train

i watched you
watch the water pass,
one palm curled
around the shadow
of your wrist

i was waiting then, too

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A vintage story


Well, it’s been a sorted mess

At times in the limelight;

In dark at the backstage

Bound to happen I guess

In a relationship so vintage


Quest started by following

Stars on a cloudless night

Someone made a dreary device

Traced rains on one fine evening

Then observed next day’s bright


Finicky and Frantic, wasn’t he?

Sleepless night owl so deadly

I be...

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#poem #story

Walk! Man i'm still crawling by Zakiya Johnson

Walk up the stairs,

You fall down one case nobody seems to care

keep crawling



pools of blood

Ow Ow Ow

Hurts like walking on knives

Can get back up through all the hard times

Try! Try! Try! Try! Try!

Black night

I can’t see I need to

turn on the light

open yourself to a better life

start and finish your resolution

find a solution

pow! po...

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Also by Abstract Mystery:

I fell in love with... by Zakiya Johnson | Solo by Zakiya Johnson | Life by Zakiya Johnson |


A tap on the bum,

A hug from behind,

A kiss on the neck,

Look at me from the side.


These mean so much more

Than those three little words


“I love you”

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Also by Chrissy R.:

Everything | A Marriage of Convenience | Will I Do? |


Falling, complete fear stricken through my heart.

Paralyzed, stuck by myself with my thoughts.

Floating, across space the journey lots.

Struggling, fighting gravity’s part.


Death, inevitable no more fight.

Astronaut, separated from his rocket.

Flying through time, in the space pocket.

Realization, now looking at the sight.


Amazing, the stars so bright and colorful...

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How do I

Tell you that I want you

without being bold.

Tell you that I miss you,

without seeking control.

How do I forget that I met you

when the mind won't let go.

Pretend I don't like you

after you've awakened my soul.

I met a man

who touched my heart

and knocked down a wall,

stimulated me mentally

but the physical took control.

I'm speaking from the heart,

no bar...

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Also by Dara Smith:

Broken |

false accusation of myself

Shake my finger tips you have me picking for the light I kissed. Run to my love when it's sugar free now my voice mellows out I'm afraid to speak. Ask a few more question so I can figure out my plan to leave. Your right to question how I spend my days to betray love in crying waves to compete for yet another sheltered dismay.

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Also by Youthfullyxx:

find my blood on the table | last year you left me broken | i am a hurricane you will be sucked in | shady lover | love is pain is love | see me through rose lens's | tender lover | playing with knives | back and forth | hes a liar | circle habits | anticipating the result | forget me | she yells her secrets | life has no instructions | caffeine for free | heavy | fake |

Under the bed

Under the bed

Under fed

Under weight

Under nourished

Forgotten never seen


Out of sight

Out of their minds

Out of food

Out there in the great beyond


Full of courage


Some barely living on grass

Hanging on by a  t h r e a d

Left behind

Left for dead

Left hidden under the bed


Drawn out

Sketched to the world’s attention

By ...

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Also by Martin Elder:

cholrine days | Out driving | sleep |

Last Night

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Last night was more than anyone could bear.
Last night they plunged a dagger into Yorkshire,
approving plans to poison land, to fracture 
the ground beneath our feet, to choke the air.

Four thousand people sent in their objections.
A hundred speakers warned what could occur.
But seven County Councillors didn't care
and kicked North Yorkshire in the wrong direction:

a course that leads ...

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Also by Tim Ellis:

Following the Money |

climate changefrackingPollutionYorkshire

"Dismal Claque"

A dismal claque

Of catcalling delinquents

Dogs my steps

It’s a surly black dog pack

With curled down cup handle tails

Snarling and hissing at my heels.

It scuttles to the shadows

When I turn to face it

To re-gather whenever

My morale is low

One of the cohort

Spawned from the litter

A miserable


Half dead




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Also by Rick Gammon:

"Old Men Dancing" | "Hello, Hello, Hello, Inigo" |

The Heavy Heart

The heavy heart

Born at loss
the heavy heart
passed around and tossed
longs to be
but seems to be
always at a loss
cares to easy
falls to much
and always has a cost
the heavy heart
longs to love
but never seems
to find it
handles well
but fear it does
and fear it so
hides it's feelings
backs away slow
tucks in tail
runs away
love never showed
the heavy heart

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Between A Rock & A Hard Place

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Between A Rock & A Hard Place


Trust me

said the man I didn’t trust

Stay in


every part of me

is against

what he stands for

but he has support

from the people

that I trust


Trust me

said the man I didn’t trust

Get out


every part of me

is against

what he stands for

but my heart aches

for what I believe

to be right


Don’t ...

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Also by Ian Whiteley:

The Bayonet In The Shed | A Pointy Reckoning | Splendid Is The Flower | Head In Hands |

brexitEU debateeuro ineuro outreferendumundecided

The Couple

They stand,


In their elder days,

absorbing view of sea, of sky, of sand,

of bird, of wave of weed,

Sky to the horizon,

Looking forward,

Peace, a shroud of the land,

surrounding them,

enshrining them,

At peace together in

their Elder Days.

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Also by Peter Ray:

The Dance of The Bells | Psycho-babble, doggy paddle |

coastold ageseaWales


The flowers are blooming, the hot sun is shining
This precious plot of land where everything grows
Turning right, turning left, bountiful juxtapose
Of polkadot colours, spreading through the lining

The plants creep towards east, where the sunshine exists
Opening their petals to accept the power
Responsible beauty an act of empower
That fuses their forum of an endless abyss

Climbing, sc...

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Also by Louis Audet:

The Boulder |

Life lesson

Summer Nights

Summer nights is what I liked the best.

Sitting around watching the sunset.

The smell of bonfires was my favorite part.

Drinking until the sun came up.

Not a worry in the world, it was just me and you.

Late night fishing and havin' a few.

Summer nights never lasted long, but I'll always remember each and every one.

-Danielle Ciulla

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