Poetry Blogs (2019)

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The Letter Writer

entry picture

The Letter Writer


I thought the art of letter

Writing had expired

That all communication now

Was transferred down a wire


Last night I got a pleasant shock

When sitting with a female

A pen-and-paper letter was

Replacement for an email


We've lost the art of so much past

To far great a degree

I pen-and-paper poem drafts

This is an art. To me



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Also by Don Matthews:

Crowder | But I Like Helium Balloons | Side-glancing in an Argentinian Cafe | The Newsagent | Publisher Wanted | Doomy Gloomy | Does No-one Know Where Rose Is ? | Brains to Practice On | The Lady of the GPS | Fluffer Round With Flowery Words | What is The Like-Minders Society ? | Learning Haiku – Important Point |


Needle to the skin

Instead of a blade

Temporary fixes

With permanent scars

Paint a pretty picture

I’ll put it on my arm

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Also by FuckEmily:

Nothing |


I'm not going to make it to Twenty-seven
I'm too busy trying to make it to Heaven
Oh shit I forgot suicide makes you go to hell
That's better than suffering everyday
I rather die than live a lie

I'll start cutting again 
If you won't judge me
I told her that should be the death of me
I was not lying

Love is so messed up 
That you'll start drugs too forget 
Just for you to end up 

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Also by Damon Blackery:

(untitled) |

I’d love to say I love you

I’d love to say I love you 

But all I’m feeling is hate

It’s an over load of emotions

And you can’t seem to relate

It’s like a ticking time bomb

And all you do is hesitate

We use to be on the same level

I use to care for you a lot 

But you can’t stop being a rebel

And love is something we forgot

I don’t want to hurt you

But I can’t keep letting you hurt me

And t...

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Also by Aimee:

Overwhelmed | Home to me |


entry picture

Move your sweet lips closer to the microphone

And admit this second chance you’ve also blown

You should concede you have indeed made a poor show

Admit defeat; (best not to bleat)

You’ll have to go.


We were presented with a choice of the Hard Left

So let Boris get away with daylight theft

The Right now cackle at his debacle; they jibe and crow

He’s brought us tears for ...

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Also by John Coopey:


Looking Good

When looking for a new doctor

For me the best of all

Is one that's overweight and a smoker

And reeks of alcohol

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Also by Joe Marcello:

Perfect Strike |

Sick of it!!

I'm falling, fast and deep

Into the loneliness and darkness

Tired of fighting the battles alone

Only one to stand with me is my loneliness 

Come hug me hard, for I'm shattering

Into pieces uncountable and unfathomable 

Hold me, grip me into your darkest arms

O loneliness dear come to me fast and quick

Hug me hard, hug me long, for I'm breaking

Crying tears of uncontrolla...

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Also by Do.RoThy:

Commited in love!!! | I love you? | I thank thee!! | Waiting!! | Missing you!! | Confused!! | The beginning!!! 💖 | I love you forever!!! | Heart-felt!! | Ready, get set, go!!! - The marathon!! | Breathe!!! | Shhhhh!!!!! | Life ain't a fairy tale for me!!!! | Ant DoRis | Crazy little heart!! | Pause!!! | O darling death!!! | Love you!! |

Promises promises...


So today the Country voted, based on what the politicians said

The party with most votes counted, as we adjourn to bed.

For most, come the morning, as the night draws to a close 

The nation then will learn, is our leader the one they choose.


Then the job begins, the losers disparate

The winners in their seats of power, gather, congregate.

The Bullingdon Buffon B...

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Also by poemagraphic:

FREEDOM | Walking into the light | A party fit for a Prince | Mediocre poets | Crap | A drug fuelled frenzied sexual attack |

Election dayPopromises


my heels clack, 

washboard thimble rasps

scratching brashly

on the frost scrubbed cobbles,

later, after the snow has flown

we become mute, entranced

listening intently

to the dumbed weight of quiet

throughout the lanes,

senses are forced taught, bleached and

distilled by the biting air

that squeezes and threatens

our pinched lives,

we suffocate under this thi...

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The Buddha Before you

entry picture

The Buddha before you

Never the end
   we hear someone say...
or the beginning we hasten to think!

MY life is important...?wha.. wha... what do Yooou think!... ???

3 - 3 - 3 9
I hear you call,
softly and secretly from  the depths of  my soul.

All the while
   living through life   
the buddha before you,                 

Our shadow?               

Our light?

Everything w...

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as if in a
title fight
yield meant
nothing to me
wrong direction
one way street
flew like
a drone
into a
no fly zone
putting out
under strain
fuming smoke stack
runaway train
gone off track
stuck in
bull in a
china shop
fish outta water
square peg
trying to fit in
with a circle
of ...

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Also by cindylee loucks:


POEMS3 by cindy lee loucks

A good deed

Empathie and kindness

No longer an act

In lack of self esteem

And insuffisant tact


A boost a crucial hike

In dire seeked

For the sake of seeking

To ease the mind


Shaped and carved

To reach the beings

The heart always dispised

The inconveniently near


That will always be too far

The invisible beings

Our society deemed inapt

What a deed to b...

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Faith is a Barren Garden

Faith is a Barren Garden


Faith is a barren garden

planted in hope

of hiding a soul's imperfect being.

Yet its weak and sickly saplings

avoid the sun, revealing

the acid glare of the cynic's soulless seeing.


Only Charity offers succour to the homeless.


Chris Hubbard



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Gossamer Glass Hands

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She flew my nest. I cracked her eggs to think. 

Who's behind the eyes. Nobody can say. 

Mother imagination cackles like a little girl a youth one step ahead of time. 

"Danger. Warning. Warning." The automated alarm sounds. Crossing the borders to the land of Finnagans Wake. 

Numerical oddities perspire madness. 

I didn't pass the customs at Finnagans Wake but I will try again. 

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Two rats

in a test

one rat


one did not

the rat who


was healthier

the rat who



its lungs filled

with tar-

smoked rat.


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Also by d.knape:

Book End | Easy Pickings | Whale Fall | Vaults Of Wisdom | Stupid Old People | Waiting Room | IT | Solid Ground | IF THE TURKEY COULD TALK | My Enemy |

Ride Twice

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As a child, racing past the height post
eager to ride the roller coaster
there were those who'd jostle in the queue
to sit at the very front
with an uninterrupted view of what was coming
no obstruction to the beauty
of the madness
afforded by that ride
to see it all and see it first
filling up their eyes

And there were those of us who’d choose the back seats
secretly knowing that was ...

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Also by Tom:

Get A Room | House On The Edge of Town |


phone talk

The phone conversation

Late in the evening, my daughter brought me an apparat

that made it possible to talk to the dead.

The first on the line was an electrician complaining

I hadn’t paid him; sure, how could I pay you when

You died before I had money ready?

You could have bought flowers and visited the funeral.

You are right I could but omitted to do so

Because I had no mo...

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Also by jan oskar hansen:

homless | manx poem | roses poem | when love is not | oddity of sex | the kiss | the land of dream | sunday an sermon | new truths | when in need | military service |

X-ray Specs

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Every second Friday

my wife and I have sex

I wear my Batman costume

She wears her x-ray specs


My wife makes all the running

I do as she directs

When things get really steamy

she removes the x-ray specs


I tell her that I love her

it's not all about the sex

but she can see right through me

I curse those x-ray specs!

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Also by Brian Maryon:

Acid Rain Was All The Rage | Switching Internet Service Providers |

Raising a Rose

With the first and potentially only tattoo

I celebrate this wet dark blue

With sleeves exposed to the moon

Don't you dare judge me, this art isn't for you...


Like ink on skin and ink on paper

This is my own creation

A red rose with a blue stem wraps around my arm

So that when we shake hands you see one piece of a bouquet

And I tell you something poetic like, 


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Also by Cherry Erich:

Black Cats are Brightest in Daylight | These Cages Aren’t Metaphors Anymore |


Tabula Rasa

I saw her in the street

We were polite, random, neat.

Forgetting what drunkenness

Created in the way of becoming diabolical

Divine Tabula Rasa – blank slate.


Once one, kind, sweet woman,

Polished floors with rage

Arms red and fleshy –

The dark memory of her soul is not pale;


It was late, near the Spaniard’s Inn,

The full moon was shining,

With all the sol...

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Also by John E Marks:

A rare descent | Solstice Song | For Cathy, poet | For John Donne, poet | On the Narrow road | Love will tear us apart, again | Lunecliff | The Alpha and Omega | Nothing more | Burnham Beeches with Anna, 1985 | The solitary rose of our breath | Bandit country | A shadow behind the sun | Suttee |

On Being Asked


"The moon is a penny thrown into the sky"
She confides
"A boon for the most needy passer-by"

"Who threw it there!" and "Why doesn't it fall?"
We children shriek.
(All the more insistent for being so small.)

" I threw it there, a moment ago.
"And it will fall if you say it isn't so"

Kids rush to the window, squeal: "It's still there!"
" Then I shall leave it in your own good car...

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Also by Adam Whitworth:

Neighbour To A Mirror | Dressed In Easy Colours |


Memory brings on a subtle change

the brain slows down apace and

curious people stare you in the face -

aversion sometimes written on their

frown when they step around you in

malls or market places – as if those

squalls and ravages of time may issue

forth contagion of a likewise malady

In getting older by the live long day.

Babes inside their carriages might seek

your ...

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Also by Philipos:


what is




swallowed whole

stomach churns

muscles tense

thoughts clench

teeth gnash

focus: complete





bubbles up

tingles spine

obliterates pain

tickles fancies

obscures truth

color: rose





creates space

lacks emotion

reveals truth

sparks creation

stirs change

power: infinite

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Also by trixtex:

You once asked me why I loved you |


Contemplation (only)

Past endeavours.
Reasonable doubts.
Future uncertain. 
Desire to know. 
Delusion intrusion. 
Continuing distraction. 
Fragments scattering. 
Kaleidoscope vision.
Twisted view.
Sadness marauding.
Captivity closing.
Mind squeezed.
Unwilling to see.
It’s a superficial hope.
 Just a liars promise. 
Trust betrayed.
A calamity befallen. 
Meandering consciousness. 

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Also by Robert holyland:

Omega. | Ascension | Kingdom of comfort (political manifesto) | Lovers moon | There will be Silence. | Nobody | Idle thoughts of the mad. | United States of Nowhere |




A great door opens on a darkened landscape

I stand at the precipice of the unkown

A journey forward or an eternal void

I cannot know what is to be revealed

I am ignorant and childlike in my perception

Despite a wealth of experience and knowledge

The future holds no assurances

Faith speaks of eternity but who am I to know

I step forward with resignation


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when my bedroom feels dark
I reach across my bed
as if I simply 
have not reached 
far enough to 
hold you.
Eventually I cannot reach anymore.
So I stare through 
our broken 
moonlight touching our 
faces like snow.
So I stare through,

broken enough to ask
who knew?

a palm full 
of moonlight
could feel so empty.

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Solstice state of mind

entry picture

Dissolved into the dark

Part of it all

At one

With winter

Everything has disappeared

Yet nothing

Is feared

For it's all the same

Not death

Nor riot

Just mind

At last


Now I let

The light

Back in

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Also by Ruth O'Reilly:

Christmas game of cat & mouse | I-solation |


Nothing is Vegan

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Sounding smug he said
“Nothing is vegan” as if he
had stated a truth revealed by God.

And I remembered a story about a
Buddhist monk who started each day
with a prayer for all the living beings
he would kill or harm just by
existing on the Earth.

He said simply walking,
or even breathing,
would surely cause and
perpetuate suffering.

He could have said, I guess,
everything is har...

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Also by Randy Horton:

The Dire Consequences of Room-Temperature Tea |

animal welfarebuddhismveganvegetarianism

Beautiful You

For every ship that sailed away

you forever received two in return

the heavily laden burden of fault

from which you never had to learn.


The sparkling light of luck

shone always on your skin

and the bright spark of hope

built bridges from within.


Perfectly formed a beautiful being

the mirror blushed at your vision

a sight to behold and to admire

a form unn...

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Also by Jon Stainsby:

The ledge | Goodbye voice |


What Sits Behind Blue Eyes

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You think me blind

That I don’t see the devil in your smile,

And the demons in your head.

The scars on your body,

And the stains on your heart


So, when I remind you of the empathy in your eyes

And the gentleness of your strong hands,

You feign silent exasperation at my “lack of sight”,

And what you call “misguided hopeful belief”


As such you put it upon yoursel...

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blind eyesdarknesslightnaivetyself-identity

Dancing with Poets

Thank God for kindred spirits

who get it,

this lyrical love affair

that consumes our days

and lights up starless nights,

that eases the strife

of a messed up life,

that creates a paradise,

where passion pervades,

and love never fades.

# # #


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Also by Vautaw:

Arrogance Immunity | Fan Girl |

kindred spiritlovepassionpoetpoetryrelationships

I think it was the Prime Ministers voice that I heard this morning

coming out of the radio

of a car parked up outside my house

I couldn't make out what he was saying

I was lay in bed thinking about my security

his voice was bassy and muffled

cos it was coming out of the radio

of a car parked up outside my house

I was lay in bed thinking about my security

my dreams had been very strange

a green and white striped baby animal

with two h...

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I'm Tired

I'm tired,

Not weary or, "All tuckered out,"


On every level,

Past the point of return, burned out,

As one thing after another, smothers

The breath from my chest,

As test after never ending test,

"Trust falls," backwards into my waiting hands,

Screaming, "Catch me if you can!"


And all the, "Peppy," shit that I've told myself across the years,


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Also by Jason Bayliss:

Angular | Highway Code |


I see a world where men will hold opinions,
and yet they can agree to disagree;
a world that will address the dying millions,
instead of the pretence we cannot see.
I see a time when wars are just in stories,
or histories about the years gone past;
when we will not reflect on martial glories,
but celebrate the peace and make it last.

I see a world when neighbours know each other
and are p...

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Also by Trevor Alexander:

Waiting | Hailstones |

the punch that never was

Laura’s snaffled an exclusive
freshly minted by the Tories
a left-wing thug has punched a bloke!
she tweets, ignores the story
about the PM and the photograph
the crisis in our NHS
kids on drips curled up on floors
the current government’s heartlessness
you see, a stolen phone is nothing
when you’ve a brand-new lie to share
about the punch that never happened
by a mob that wasn’t there

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December Collage Poem: The Krampus

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Goodbye Krampus, return to your castle of jet

No 'Ho Ho Ho' for you, old friend


Don't Krampus style big ears!

Elves we may be, but we're hard as gnomes.


Winter's empire is advancing through snow

Christmas spirits keep the supermarkets going


What do we do with a drunken Santa?

Asked the drunken Krampus, shall we give

Him mulled wine and keep him away from


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2019collage poem DecemberKrampus

What's your name, again?

I forgot your name,

This lazy day,

In July.


As though the world did not matter,

There remains a husk of me,

Lying in my aforementioned grave.


Though it can’t be clear,

For sure foregone,

A secant tangential line in the sand.


All I ever wanted,

Was to name the phrase,

I love you,



But that’s the way of winters past,

A boat on fi...

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Also by Adrian Metcalf:

Beauty |



There was wind in the door

It's always the tell

Now it's open and the path is there

Why does it mean so much to me? 

So much now that it's here?

Why does it matter?

Kneeling into the sticks

All brown and composting earth

But it's cold a little bit

And the trees are bare as birth

And the dirt is so soft beneath my hands

And a roly poly digs back in 

And I am unde...

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Also by Collin Pulmano:

(untitled) | Everyone Has Their Thoughts and Comments | Weapons of War | Armor |

Moment in time

A moment in time
When everything stops
So still and quiet
And everybody stares
Because you are there,
And you stop time

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Also by Starri:

Merry Christmas | Spring |

Blank Page

Your life is
a blank page
to write upon.

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Also by Shirley Smothers:

Poetic Highs | Candle |


Minority Report

We have been taken by a treachery. Bid old

by those who connive, yet still of ourselves. 

The things we want are always shiny, cheap,

divisive and ugly. And now the people will die.


We will blame, of course. We all scream for Ice

Cream. The Muslims, the Jew. Those fucking

Romanians! There is hatred, cash to be made 

from every creed. And now the people will die.



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The Aunty Phoenix

She sat down 
At her writer's desk
With her box of
And her pallet of 
And as she painted
She tried to glue
To make some sense
Of the world 
Which reflected 
Before her
In the paper thin mirror
Which was both
Her life and
Her life's 
The jumbled paragraphs 
On to the canvass
Acrobats of her mind
Spilling ideas of 
What was

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Pot Bound

In 'my' mind/heart 心
Ideas, plans, memories and emotions
Flow freely in the never-ending stream.
In 'my' heart/mind 心
A character grows misshapen
From its constricted roots,
And the winds which blow
Hot, then cold, then hot again.

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Do Not Disturb

Pull me closer until our breath combines 

Sway me like oceans controlled by the moon 

Let your fingers dance on my skin 


I want to play this game with you 

Moves made to control the other 

Hands delicately placed to tease you 

Crimson lips on your neck 

Bruise this body with my words 

Leave my mark, show them where I’ve been 

Show them all what I’ve claimed 


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Also by Cait Abbott:

Limbo | Ascend |

Give me a country that cares

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Give me a country that cares

Give me a country that holds it's head high
Give me a country that still has some pride
But make it one that loves it's neighbour
Whether they vote Tory or Labour
No matter what the colour of their skin
Their sexual preference or building they pray in

So don't talk to me withyour patronising words
Wearing the mask of someone who cares
Don't talk to me like...

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Each morning as I left for work I secured the house,

Closing the windows against smoke and insects

And shutting the bedroom doors.

Our cat was scared of toms in the neighbourhood

So she stayed inside during the day

And I didn't want the bedspreads full of cat hairs.

But every evening I would find Miss Puss

Luxuriously laid out in one of the twins' rooms.

I convinced myself...

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Also by Cynthia Buell Thomas:

Christmas Cake |

Max ordinate

entry picture

Spinning in sheets like seamstress ghosts, hands raised to holy host
Crooked hooks litter logs like lightning strikes
Insects moving in the moon lit night, watching, waiting, invading
Without pills all I hear is scathing, insect grooves shivering, shaking
Tree limbs breaking in the dark, rapid breath, raging heart
They're coming, fast as darts, through the shadows like liquid sparks
Fight, f...

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A Letter to Your Grave

Mind's clouded with disbelief
Eyes raining with tears
I can't laugh

Mem'ries are vivid clear
I met you in another world,
A man-made world

Everyday waiting for the screen to light up
For you to hit me up
And talk all night long

Because we board the same boat
As we read the same book,
Fandoms never different

We board the same boat
In two diff'rent countries
Like we were in a parallel u...

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death loss friend

Panama a love story. Late 1982.

Panama Love a short story.


The Panama canal is about 51 miles long. Constructed to save the hazardous and longer trip around the infamous Cape Horn. Its an engineering wonder! Made by man to connect the Atlantic sea with the Pacific Ocean it was started by the French in the eighteen hundreds who gave up because of the death rate among workers, which was in the hundreds, it was finished by ...

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...After These Hours...

To the marrow of a hinge in the door looming within the spaces in my spine.

 I partake unwillingly into the silence of the thereafter; I hear them walking after these hours...

I do so.

Linger in the niche halfway of dawn predessessing names, and umbilical alliances from the severed.

The key is in the shadow and the sun.

The howl before humanity: I am somehow unasleep beneath the moo...

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