Poetry Blogs (2019)

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Frances Macaulay Forde on Old age (2 hours ago)

Jane Briganti on Old age (4 hours ago)

steve black on Good Friday (7 hours ago)

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Lisa C Bassignani on I Write a Lot About Myself (8 hours ago)

steve black on Senryu 1 (8 hours ago)

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Lisa C Bassignani on Last Chemo Session (8 hours ago)

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Dying In My Sleep

I could tell you the truth but it's not okay
I put all the stress on my heart and now it's killing me
Depression episodes never end
So before I end up on a air machine
I'll put a bullet through my mind for I don't end up that lonely
This feeling is killing me 
If you knew the full story you wouldn't doubt a word

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Also by Damon Blackery:

Lonely Heated Killer | Words of The Waiting Man 29 | Panic Attack 4 | Hey There. | Mirror | Concrete Rose | Dumb Soil | You Won't Survive This Addiction | I Only Got A Job To Buy Her Glee |

After the genocide


From the cracks along the pavement the purple flowers bloom

Now this concrete is the medium and there's a body in the room

Paint peels slowly and surfaces glow with dappled sunlight,

Words scrawled on a wall: all-women  'jin' unit based in Sinjar

Will throw Daesh into hell

These words bounce around the walls of my cell

As sun and shadow meet

To swirl in the whirl of this ...

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Also by John E Marks:

Good Friday | The drawing of a torch | spring | elegy | The long genocide | Love in a police state | First Person | Teenage Dreams | Blue-remembered | Friend of the Devil | RAINY SEPTEMBER | In the dread of night | Stippled sky | Snow in June | Janissary | Another day | Entanglement (Verschränkung) | Truth | In commemoration of the fall of Kōnstantinoúpolis 29 May 1453 | Along the Unhallowed Way | Why Brexit? | A LURKING | METEMPSYCHOSIS |

Old age

entry picture

Conscious of it lurking nearby

a malevolent presence

a sinister hazard

its preliminary attacks 

not entirely unexpected.


Suddenly pouncing, leopardlike

prowling in the high dry grass

masking evil intentions

camouflaged by dappled pelt

ready to spring on its prey.


Where had it been skulking?

Hiding in the woodshed

in a little-used cupboard

inside an ...

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Also by Jennifer Malden:

The little girl |


On mushroom hill

the ground is rich with promise

fertile all consuming,

through veins the pulse is carried

and the blossom of caps


tender, secretive with nightmares

of sweet languor,

butter wouldn't melt in our mouths

on mushroom hill.

This muted sun, the schism


of autumn bounty may be

the last you'll see

as sink down to mould

you surely must,



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Also by ray pool:


A Tractor's Wife

entry picture

Tractors gaining traction

In and of my life

Never did I ever think 

That I would be a tractor's wife.

Implements and attachments

Belts and belts galore

Reapers, tillers, compostors

Who could ask for more?

Aerators and harvesters

Plows; for winter and for spring

Lots and lots and lots of tires

Damn near everything...

That someone would ever want

If they should...

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Also by Lisa C Bassignani:

Lisa | And the Mouse Said... | In the Closet | The End is Nigh | Open Mike Night | Eggs | Write or Wrong | Walking |


Each one seems to be a grave one to live with.. 
Each one seems capable to reach the conscious zenith.. 
Each one seems to lie as a thorn in the memory... 
Each one seems attenuating and blurry..

Each one seems to last a thousand lifetimes.. 
Each one seems to make one die a million times.. 
Each one seems to be kept preserved as keepsakes.. 
Each one seems to be forgotten as the day brea...

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Also by mona s:

The Soul | The Tree | Twilight | Growing apart | What Dreams are made of.. | Nonet -Frangipani | Fragments | Pregnant Blue | The Portrait | Magic | Clouds | Pleiades - An enchanting valley |

Ystrad Fflur: Dusk

Who will ever tell or know

the unheard silent echoes

from passing lives laid low:

those ghosts of chanted psalms

once melodious in their praise

lie buried beneath the turf

within walls they helped to raise;

and who can see the cowled monks

whose ghostly whispered prayers

whose canticle or hymn

whispers through the evening's airs -

through the great stone entrance a...

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Also by Chris Armstrong:

Evening Light | Past's Prologue | Fight! Fight! | Nadir |

abbeyCeredigionduskghostsmistsmonasterymonksprincesStrata FloridaWalesYstrad Fflur


entry picture

The time was running out I’m feeling low

We’re 4-2 down cos of Aguerro

Then it turns round with Llorente’s goal

But will the goal be disallowed

A deathly hush falls upon the ground

The verdict waited by the silent crowd


But there’s VAR Man watching from the stand

He sees that it’s come off his hip and didn’t hit his hand

And the VAR Man says it’s not Handball

The re...

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Also by John Coopey:




I was Fifteen years old and starting my first job. The day itself a blur

Notable for my first instruction, given with relaxed assurance from a giant of a man

Six Foot Six, size 15’s, I’d never seen a man so tall

A schoolboy by comparison, I’d fit in one leg of his overalls.

‘Pass me those tools,’ he said. Tommy Bills was his name                                       ...

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Also by trevor homer:


A New Fabric

A New Fabric


A thread weaves itself through a fabric of chaos

it loops and knits in intricate deceit

A pattern emerges of despair and hoplessness

no seamtress can unravel its folds

The quality of material is evidently flawed

the tapestry needs to be started afresh

New colours with a design to attract

will bring a new clientele to buy

A fabric more resilient and fire...

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Also by keith jeffries:

Writing | I met a Lady today..... | ora pro nobis | The Harp of Summer´s Joy | Born a Criminal |

Elegy For A Ghost

entry picture

Elegy For A Ghost


Some say ghosts are chilling things

Ethereal and fleeting

But they’re not


They are the empty chair

The pint not bought in a round

The hiss at the end of a telephone line

The deleting of a mobile number


They are the sad spaces

That once held you

On the terraces

At the bar

In the conversation


Ghosts are sad things

They h...

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Also by Ian Whiteley:

Down At The End Of Lonely Street | From The Attic | Martyr | Raising The Standards (With Banners Held High) | The Turning Of The Tide | Vesuvius | Grit | heatwave | A List Of Things We Buried In The Garden | Blue On Blue Contact | Simple Pleasures | Manhattan Morning | The Parable Of The Wolf And The Lamb | In Memoriam | hide and seek | Time To Decide Patsy | Recipe For Disaster |

day 18NaPoWriMo 2019

Bleak Era

Lifeless unyielding stone and granite trees

On a concrete earth that scrapes the heel

Stalks of wheat not rustling in the breeze

Half-withered flowers lacking basic will for thrill


Mundane affairs of indifference, vanity and love

Crawling numb, like serpents, bloody on rough soil

Nothing but pyre, lead and water gathering above

And Us, just empty shells enthralled in dull...

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Also by Mae Foreman:

A Thorn In Joy | Girl's Letter To The Beatle | In a Dream | Starchild |


Everything I achieved

Is part guilt

Part coffee

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Because our blue-lit journey took us into A and E,

then obs on a proper ward,

I didn’t clear drawers containing sailor whites or flags.

It wasn’t me that sorted photographs,

twenty sets of dentures, broken glasses,

or all the empty bottles that he’d stashed beneath the bed.

Because I’d pleasepleasepleased to the hospital with you,

all I got to see were empty rooms.



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Also by Laura Taylor:

Proclivitas | Scopaesthesia | Atlas | Cycle Haiku | Triptych | Buzzword Bingo | The Gift | Sustenance Rap | Song Sung Blue | Incomplete | Once Upon a Time | Call and Response | Recipe for Change |

Napowrimo 2019


It’s hard to believe you’re gone.

Though I didn’t know you well,

you’ve been there all my life.

I only visited a couple of times,

but you impressed me,

remained with me,

and I got used to you being there.

People try to tell me

there will be life after death,

and you will live again.

Will it be the same?



Or just a shadow of existence,

a pale ...

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Also by Trevor Alexander:

Silence is…. | NaPoWriMo | Irish Logic | One More Bacon Butty | Come Away With Me | Táim sa Bhaile | Erin go Bragh | Soft Day | Reasons To Be Thankful | Every Day? | Older | My Souvenirs | The Big Question | Getting In | Summer’s Day | Wedding | The Match |

NaPoWriMo Day 18



Emojis fill our e-mails now

taking the place of words

and emotions that

we cannot ourselves express

we fall into a routine

fall back on the easy way out

and instead of descriptive words

plug in an Emoji

because it's easier

than actually doing the hard work

of using words

so I am sending this to you now

minus the emoji

and typing out

this Happy Happy F...

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Also by d.knape:

The Time Before | Lasting Love | Free Speech | Autism Rhythms | Laughing Gull | First Ride | All In A Day's Work | Grievance Industry | My Life | When Bluebonnets Bloom | Unsolicited E-Mail | Crime Story | Ghost Town | MAN IN A TRUCK | Earnin' Their Keep | Discovery |

But for you

entry picture

But for you

I would not be alone


But for you

There would have been one more at home


But for you

The unknowing would not feel so cold


But for you

I’d feel more joy in growing old


But for you

My mind might be at rest


But for you

Life may have been less of a test


But for you

A single race I have run


But for you

I can plac...

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Also by Graham Parker:

Fleeting persistence | House | Watering Can | Borders | Walk on part | Tribute | Born in the shadow of a mountain | Black Confetti | Caledonian Secrets |

griefmissing someonesorrowTwins

A man without

entry picture

A man without

Thursday,18th April 2019


A man without the woman

you can't dream even

it is like a body without a soul

that can respond to no call


the woman is really a gift

and can shift

an entire scenario

into unimaginable ratio


what can we think

while putting ink

to paint the real picture of a woman

who is not only divine but human too



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Also by Hasmukh Mehta:

Love's spell | With a resolve | The honest approach | Ultimate end | Bring in secret | Life, like flower | At midnight fear | Can't bear | I feel sorry | Love -only weapon | Slavery-a sacred bond | Towards humanity | No betryal | Even if I am denied | The blood color | Make him flee | Win her heart | World has moved | You are crazy | At the disposal | Hellish experience | Love and depth | Keep mind clear | Great poetess in inaction | In tears and | Let no one think | I ponder | At great distance | No room for | Sorry feelings | Life not barren | Find poetess here | Life is less | Decent death | beauty of life | Someone comes closer | Peace undergrond | Trespass once | You have set | Poets are dead and not poetry | Rise like sun | True sentiments | Fool's day | I feel your name | Real poet and magician |



entry picture

In search of yew in Borrowdale

that shared the sun with Judas,

I walk a rutted path,


aware of twinges, snares, rocks,

carrying your paints and easel

along with this bowl of words,


no longer fit for consumption,

mold festering in knots

from sour touching fruit within.


And if these words were berries,

gardeners would stand disappointed

at the canker in...

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Also by Jonathan Humble:

Red Pencil | Blanket | On The Road To Samaria | Coming Home |


Reasons he had plenty

To not steal tomorrow 

As the night faded

Inhaled in the morning 

Was all but regret

He vowed to he’d be ready

But greed won again

The day after came

Still not tomorrow 




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Also by Reggie:

Years |




Ah! there you are then,


small sharp teeth

gripping the tail of another,

forced to eternally play

with sister and brother

in a never ending circle.


Ah! there you are then,


hanging like a necklace of fur

around the neck

of a stylish grandmother,

with overtones of peppermint

and undertones of lavender.


Ah! there you are then,



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Also by Dorothy Webb:


Senryu 1

Clouds running leeward

Far; stretched to the horizon

Freedom for the eyes 


Cherry blossoms fall

Softly upon the water

Flowing through the soul 


Willow dappled light 

Dances lightly on my soul

Always in my hart


Nightly you appear 

To masquerade as moonlight 

deceit in your stealth 

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Wind Birds | Three Senryu (I think) | Crimson | The seer | Ballad of the Willow |

The Best Way to Grieve for a Child

They never changed that room.
Dolls, teddy bears, trains,
And transformers all hold space,
Lock time in perpetual stasis.
When death comes life stops.

Family said they should pack
Things away. It’s too hard
To be reminded day after day
Of a future lost in the past,
But a room can be a memorial.

It’s a museum of childhood,
Until a child of a later
Generation discovers it with

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Also by Randy Horton:

On Bodily Autonomy and Geriatric Femininity | The Burdened Bookshelf as Will and Representation | The Impact of Utilitarianism on Unsuspecting Feet | The Magic and Mystery of Ministry | On the Disastrous Art of Losing | Texas Tornadoes and the Power of Prayer | Life, Love, and Leaving in Livingston, Texas | On the Destructive Power of Measureable Learning Objectives | If Gratitude Were Horses, We'd Never Fear A Stampede | Accepting an Infinite Regression of Causes | On The Odd Quality of Trumpets in the Mist | The Distinct Challenges of Hyperfocus | The Unintended Consequences of Complimentary Behavior | The Unreasonable Demands of April |


I want to sleep

i want to sleep,

my eyes are tired,

my brain is blank,

my body wants to collapse,

but i can't.


i want to sleep,

the pillow is so soft,

the bed is calling,

the blanket is nice,

but i can't.


i want to sleep,

and having a sweet dreams,

and nothing to think,

and wake up in the morning,

but i can't.


i think, it is because of,

a cup of coffe...

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Shadowed Images

Go before a wintered moon,

And wash the floors with blood,

Calvary shed tears for fallen men.


The saddened shape of wallowing mothers,

Forgotten besides a rock half hearted,

Blue in the garden of afterimaged suns.


Follow me in the bask of glory!


A sanctity of food,

And willowed aspects of what of you?

The swallowed end of a dream to be,

Flailing in moti...

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Also by Adrian Metcalf:

Goodnight | Delinquent | Continue On | Let's begin again | It is |

The burning of one's church

Churches have been burning everywhere

For various reasons since their creation

Some made of wood and stone

Most of beliefs and hopes

Each time the fire takes everything on its path

Leaving behind either ashes and water, or delusion and despair

In equal parts

Each time the scorching heat inside the soul



Now the cathedral is on fire

People congregate fro...

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Also by Jeannot:

The possibility of a garden | Let me tell you | Listen | Correspondence | Waste of time | Coming back |

Last Chemo Session

'Last chemo session! Ring the bell three times!'

Said the sign on the wall beside the big, metal hub.


I had hesitated, but a smiling attendant

A gentleman, a very gentle man from front desk

Hopped to the kitchen

And returned with two, huge, metal spoons.

He pressed them into my hand. 'Go for it!'

And I struck the silver gong three times:


The clan...

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Let me be; Set me free

kiss me on the mouth

let me be; set me free

to be trapped against you

pain I wish nothing on

to wrap arms you know

i can not deny

when to hold her brings joy

let me know

let me be; set me free

wish against me not away

to understand nothing is a void

unhappiness be where you know not

do not fight, my love

endings to soon to show

but listen to direction and ...

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beginningbelieveendherhimi love youlovemepainquit

You and Me

There are two yous.

The reality of who you are and

The you that I project

The you that I want you to be

The you that I fear you are

The you that I have created from

Little glimpses of the real you and

From a deep well of guesswork that

Some might call intuition.

*  *  *  *  *

There are two mes.

The reality of who I am and

The image that I project.

The me that...

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Also by Hazel ettridge:

her husband's clothes |



smell her
all over
down the aisle
we walked
was just
pillow talk
called me
a princess
but your
only a
not true
it seems
pulled back
wedding veil
nothing but
a fairy tale
a prince
i don't need
already a
rather be
than share
my throne
not looking
to be dazzled
or live in
a f...

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Also by cindylee loucks:


break up poemlove


entry picture

Locked in a steel cage,
No where to run and hide.
A public spectacle,
Running in circles but going nowhere.
Stuck in a rutt,
Is there more to life than these four walls?
Thinking outside the box was unheard of,
Life seemed to be pre-established.
Complacency is the new smoking,
Satisfying in the moment but won't fulfill a destiny.
Only a select few can choose to live different,
So why no...

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A Little Rain

(Well, once again I find myself awake at 3.30 a.m. you've gotta love insomnia. A good friend told me she wished I'd cheer up and to honour that wish I thought I'd try and write a response and a thank you.)


There are so many things to be grateful for,

For a start, just the chance to draw breath,

That alone is enough and we shouldn't ignore,

The fact that we daily cheat death.



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Also by Jason Bayliss:

Where Twilight Sleeps | Cruel Mistress | Whispering Night | The Door Of Naked Souls | Not Without | To The Bone |

Gift of sky.

The sun which was once loving,

danced with fierce rage,

burning up the earth,

with the torturous heat,

turning ambience dry and burning,

making the earth to scream for gentleness.


Her heart was burning,

so her surface,

The cracks on her lips

and streaks of dry leaves,

her charm was evaporating in the air.


She just wanted to be like what she was before,


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Also by Ankita Srivastava:

Triumph of prejudices |

Poetry Understands

entry picture

Poetry understands
walking dead,
monsters under the bed,
voices in your head.

Poetry understands
wounded souls,
storms, walls, 
severed rainbows.

Poetry understands
broken hearts,
rainy days, lonely nights,
moon light.

Poetry understands
star-crossed love,
hopeless romances,
second chances.

Poetry understands
twin flames
guilt, shame,
the blame game.

Poetry understand...

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Also by Vautaw:

Wild Life | Shepherds | Mortality | The Writer's Plight | Fools | A Poem a Day | Kintsugi |

depressionlonelinesslovemusicpoetryrainbowsrelationshipssad songstwinflame

Odin's Good Wolf.

A canine, but rather a calm and sensitive healer than a ravenous hunter.
His warm fur comforting, safe, a haven for the broken.
Striking nocturnal eyes see brightness lurking deep within a bent and blackened heart.
Paws patiently claw away at the walls of safety, built upon a mountain of pessimism and lost trust.

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Mountain thyme tea rolled up in seaweed playing the role of a joint

All this time,
reminded of the thyme tea I drank,
as I was talking to you.

And all those stories I've heard,
from liars and thieves,
about you, not being who you say you are.

Can't even drink my favorite beverage,
my mind being leveraged,
by the thoughts of another summer without you.

Another year,
another failure,
mind messed up from beer portrayed as a liquid savior,
yellow at ...

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Also by LeGou:

Worst harvest |





She traced her poem on my skin

so when I breathe I breathe her in,

each touch a treasured silken word

too gentle to be overheard.


Upon my heart she wrote her book

on which no others eyes may look,

so now my life's love story told

the pages close no more to fold.



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Also by Wolfgar:

The empty chair | A Lark ascending (thoughts on Vaughan Williams) | A doorway in a northern town | Shoebox | Shoebox |

The Sinking of The RMS Titanic

The White Star pride of all ocean and sea.

Unfairly labelled ‘unsinkable’ was she.

As who knows what dangers waters hide.

Peril can strike with every wave and tide.


A fresh hope and start for many on board.

She left Southampton, as funnels roared.

Passenger’s classes apart with different aims.

Titanic took to the Atlantic shipping lanes.


As the decks went quiet, o...

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Also by Mike Bartram:

A Final Farewell |

The Burning Cathedral

The Cathedral and holy relics are burning.

For grief of righteous, for the joy of devil.

Will you, our Lord, bring people to the square,

So that, the grief could crawl far away?

I beg you, Lord! Save humans treasure!

Restore the shrine by the whole world!

Or we are on edge of quickly dying.

And this the people understand at last!

Let everyone just pray in their own temples...

Read and leave comments (0)


Poetry of a Twisted Mind

entry picture

Spaces in time
All in my mind
But I can't seem to find what is lingering close behind.
There are monsters somewhere near
Can't you hear?
Whispering things, like nightmares in your dreams
It's so scary,
The things I've seen
So now I'm hiding
I'm hiding in my mind
Lost in time
Cause I am sacred of what I might find,
As I close my eyes,
listening to cheerful cheers of the wicked mind

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A Second Chance

Once in a lifetime
If you’re lucky
You get a second chance
At love
How it happens
Why it happens
No one knows
But the powers up
Life’s twists and turns
Run parallel in the universe
Fate and destiny hold hands
To bring loved ones together
Dearly departed team up
In Heaven
Guiding what appears
And yet volatile passions
Transcend eternity

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Also by Bruce Levine:

3 Haiku for Spring | Happiness Surrenders | Fate Has Set The Day | The End of Time | I'll Take Manhattan |

A Butterfly Is Born

Her eyes met his, her body tingled all over  
He spoke but she heard nothing
Deafened by her own thoughts
"my soulmate stands before me"  
Undeniably, she wanted him, she needed him
He completed her, her heart pounded
Together forever for the rest of their lives
Young and pure, their hearts yearning
Blinded by love, they were inseparable
Seas of emotion filled them both
A tidal wave of p...

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Also by Jane Briganti:

Almost There | Overtures | Roads Ahead |


It feels like a tropical desert 

With wind blowing and rain falling 

But nothing is growing

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Also by Chloé:

Dear You |

Jump, Again

He looks like Will from The Inbetweeners

His friend doesn't seem to have a face at all

They are on holiday, somewhere warm

They aren't talking much

Not arguing or anything

but there is something not being said

They don't seem to be having much fun

They are mostly just lazing about in the sun


Jump to their hotel

then immediately to a large Georgian House

They are ...

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Also by Brian Maryon:

The Todger : Alternative Uses | Waiting at the door with a rolling pin | Again, Empty Vessel | It will probably never happen | Colour Blind |

Monsters in our midst

The quiet twisting of already

screwed and spewed words,

uttered from the gaping wounds

of their sorry faces,

mouths as bleeding caverns,

pus filled lies uttered in a

disingenuous cacophony,

where no one is safe from

the tirade of empty locution,

a terrible warped view

crammed into the selfish egos

of monsters in out midst.


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Also by Jon Stainsby:

Unholy Communion | From a sedentary position |


Verbs of Life

Verbs of Life












































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Also by Dyphrent:

Video of me doing "Dreamcatcher" |

Dream Boat

entry picture

Let the dreamless boy to cry 
If his wish to fly has gone 
How his tears going to dry 
If he stays far of sun

Ask dreamless boy be awake 
That the dream, is a part of us 
Tell him: "think of a better talk" 
And to change the dark glass 

Help dreamless boy to be here 
And clear his negative thought 
Once he comes to hear or share 
He will enjoy to dream in a boat 


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Also by Farag M. Afify:

GOD Bless | Out Loud | Hello | NO SURPRISE | Mid January | Arrive Alive | In Mumbai | NO CHANCE | Money | Nancy Theater | Disney Fairy | April First |

ask awakebetterboychangeclearcomecrydreamdreamlessdryenjoyflyglassgogonehelpherenegativepartsailsharestaysuntalktearstellthinkthoughtwith

Scratch at the surface

Go on,

Have another drink,

Take another hit,

Get in another fight,

It doesn't make a difference

If you win or lose,

I'm the one 

Just scratching at the surface.


Does it make you feel

Make you feel like a man

Does it make you feel

Make you feel more than I am


Put me in my place,

Spit in my face,

Go on, darling,

It doesn't make a difference


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Also by Kimberly Ray:

The meeting | Holding back | Daydreaming | Where do we go from here | Love returns |

Vancouver Haiku


Clouds growl as

red spiders walk

into the lion's mouth.



Frances Macaulay Forde © 2004

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Also by Frances Macaulay Forde:

I am love. | Renovations 1 |


Show more entries …

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