Poetry Blogs (2019)

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Do.RoThy on Checking Into Rehab (28 seconds ago)

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Brian Maryon on After reading the poetry of Rabindranath Tagore (11 hours ago)

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Checking Into Rehab

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Checking Into Rehab


I have a pile of poems

Sitting in my drawer

They never seem to lessen

They seem to just get more


My mind is just too active

I try to shut it's door

It laughs at me, picks up my pen

And starts to write some more


Sounds like I've got a problem

Mind's taken full control

Must go book into rehab

It's your fault, yes you WOL



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Also by Don Matthews:

Nobody | What Fires Me Up To Write Poetry? | Running Out of Cotton Wool | Publish-Time | When You Get to My Age | Like-Minders Society Renewed Attempt to Heal Rift With Traditional Poets Association | Space Reversal | Listen Up There Rhyming Board | Good Question Poet Critic | Editor I Need Some Help Here | Poetry and Me | Once Upon a Time in the Land of Faraway Poetry Lived........ | OH&S Gone Mad | Anomoly of the Law |


They say the world is ever-changing , though every day it seems the same 

they say time heals all wounds , yet I'm brought to my knees with the sound of your name

they say we can move on , that there will always be another

if they say all these things , then why under my emotions do I feel so smothered 

the clock it keeps on ticking , time keeps passing by

yet everything for me is t...

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Also by Aimee:

If I wrote you a song | Grief | Drifting | Myself | Together in my thoughts | Falling In November | Ink On Paper | Ink On Paper |

Who am I

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The earth is scattered with Billions of people. Last time someone cared to count, they said we passed the 7 billion mark.

Everybody is busy with something. Some are trying to change the world... some are using the world... some are raping the world. Others are just swept away or dragged along by the world. Mother Earth has her own problems coping with all these people... every one with his own ...

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Also by Dewald:

The Place in my Soul | It is that time of day... |


Do you beg me mindful

as I behold your callous?


Should it be

that your lips become quaint

in shadow of your action?

Or will you remain encumbered

by the air and lie dormant?


Do not want nor follow.


The mammal consumed

by the engulfing rage

the creator has provided,

gleaming at the emissary.


Should you come to know thy will; 

have it polish...

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Also by Chaz Allen:

Image of A Ghost | Identity | I'm Sure | Hell | Growth | Gatekeeper | Future | Faith | Epitome |

Hazy Hazy Me

Which trail did you run down dreams?

Why did you leave me?

I forswore even the deepest memory of myself to chase you.

Now I am old and tired and I can't remeber what I forgot.

Hazy hazy me.

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Also by Michael Triandafils:

Everything is Funny | Proud of the Weight | Songs For Your Quarters |

The Wrestler

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You believe in love don't you?
You know love,
the one with the
plastered knuckles 
and fractured nose
and lifetime
prescription for
That old war horse
drowning his sorrows
over there,
who can still turn it on
now and then,
in that arena where
every move is scripted
but the blood is still real.


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Also by Tom Harding:

The Hard Problem | The Secret of his Success | Thoughts This Morning | Now | Late Night Movie | Bad Influences |


In earlier times we

would cycle to work

leaving from Brixton

through the fog-fumed

traffic with smog masks

over our mouth and nose

looking every inch like the

silver screen desperadoes

of the western films – if

lucky enough we could grab

the tail board of a chugging

lorry and free-wheel while

thinking that was the bees

knees – it wasn’t without

risk of cou...

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Also by Philipos:



I feel fear inside my chest, a strange feeling.

 A feeling not felt for a long time.

Fear, welcome home.

Lay in bed; sleep where you belong - In my chest, forever.

Together, we will venture through the lows as we fall from the highs.


Depression has possessed me.

Fighting it helps, but for that I need strength.

Cornered. Encircled.

Like a child fell on the ground for th...

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After reading the poetry of Rabindranath Tagore

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Yes. We spend too much of our short lives

Chasing the mot juste, the phrase, the image,

That will reconcile all, bring all to mind.

To ease the pain and to make amends.

But there is no end to the way of art

We must learn to wonder as we search

For the right word to express. What?

That fleeting sense of something

Far more deeply interfused

That has its home in the setting...

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Also by John E Marks:

Blue | An adamantine distress | Nothing more | Trilobite | Stutterer | Semiotics | Bullet points | AN ACT of TREASON | For Anna Akhmatova | The rising of the north | Vanishing point | Solstice Song | Morning Glory | ONLY CONNECT | OTTO'S LAMENT | The Twilight Realm | TIBET | Granddaughter | The Unwritten | Paralysis | In the sixties |

Edinburgh Late Afternoon

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Orange beacons lead the way

toward a fiery sky that glows like the last embers in a hearth.

The charcoal shadows of evening draw near

and I hurry home in my 'teddy bear' coat.

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Also by Jill Ashforth:

Bath Time |


I'm sorry

I'm sorry 
That I hung on
When you wanted to let go
It was all wrong
But I didn't want to know
That you'd only kept me around
Until something better showed
So, baby, if that's how you really feel
Then, I've nothing left to say to you


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Also by Lynn 7m.:

I don't understand. Do you? | Give me one good reason | Played | I gave. You never. |

Time Drips

since I've retired
time drips

don't get me wrong
I love it
there's an ocean to enjoy

over the horizon
wouldn't mind

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Bermuda Islands' Visitor

I have no idea

How I happened to be on the cliffs

Of a North Shore park that day.

Perhaps a bolt from the busy shop

On my trusty moped

With a thermos of tea and a sandwich,

Needing rocks and waves for sanity.

Nobody else was there.

Sun and sea were mine.

When I chucked my waste into the bin

I glanced up.

Islanders look at the sky a lot.

There's so much of it!


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Also by Cynthia Buell Thomas:

From My Window There Is A Tree | Denouement | MAKING LOVE |

one early morning

One morning in August


It is early morning, but the petrol station is open

A man stands outside drinking a beer and smokes a cigarette

Not for me to be critical; he needs it to face the day

Before goes to walk in an office on the other side of the road

He is chewing gum; probably he does some tedious work

Repairing computers.

The petrol station is filling up with cars I no...

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Also by jan oskar hansen:

a rose poem | occupation | social housing | the demise | president Chirac | TV | the price to pay | an oddity | a dreaming joureny | the pace |


A frame, a shadow, 

Of what it could of been, 

Cowering in the corner of a cage 

For others' amusement; 

The eyes and demeanour 

Of a broken bear. 

It pained me to see - 

So I penned these words.

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Pilgrimage to the Motherland

Standing in the presence of history 

Witness all that has come before

Bewildered in amazement

What a glorious sight!

Speak to me, my wise old poets,

Speak to me while I stand where it all began,

Feed me your recipe

Gather in the Poetry room

Circle around the Poet’s chair

Cozy up in the corner,

This is where I belong

These are my people

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Also by Kimberly Ray:

I am a Tree | The Nearness of You | In Need of Relief | The Nagging |


Space Heater

He said "I found it under the sink"

but I know it came from you

when I looked at the impossibility 

of a space heater fitting under the sink

and the hesitation in his answer.

How it had arrived quietly;

the plastic base gently scraping the hardwood floor;

inside my chest;

a hollow sound like leaving

a set of house keys

on the kitchen counter

and never coming back.


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Also by Alex J.J:

Magic Trick | Breakfast |



container of seeds
no place to reap
a radiator tucked behind
forgotten over time
they didn't see
the happening underneath
tensions rose
students on their toes
gloves off
weapons sought
no sticks or rocks
but a garden box
sudden pause
oohs and awes
couldn't believe their eyes
what a beautiful sight
brows unfurled
picking buds for girls
bouquets taken home

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Also by cindylee loucks:



Tis the season to colour your soul

Delectable Autumn.

I embrace your abundance of orange, red and gold

as leaves waft to the ground.

Nature’s wondrous way of ‘letting go’.

I feel your darkening days and the chill in the air.

Sharp winds pierce my face.

I hear the birds twittering as they make their plans for migrations --

Looking for a warm bed for winter.

I see apples strewn on the ground.

Then as a squi...

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A Trail of Breadcrumbs

Lost within the twisting turns of of the corridors of your mind,

Plain to see the agony endured upon your face,

Unwind the thread, leave a trail of breadcrumbs I can find,

That I may lead you out of this cold dark place,

Put your hand in my hand and your trust upon my back,

I'll never let it go and I can bear the weight,

I'll help you to stand, walk with you down this track,


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Also by Jason Bayliss:

The Last Toast | The Oaken Pole | Aftermath | "Never Never." | Innocent Eyes |



You should have been able

to open that attachment


but since you couldn't

I suggest you detach yourself

as I have

from all reality


or attach yourself to

someone unattached

you don't want to fool around

with someone already attached


I will attach another attachment

if you can't open this one

you have a problem


you will never know


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Also by d.knape:

Getting Ahead Of Yourself | Dear Valued Customer | Laughter 'Round The Table | Refrigerator Magnet | Through 7 Year Old Eyes | ANGER | Old As Rock | Every Post Has A Gull | Our Daily Bread | Deodorant | Do Not Die In The Fall | Widows | Bald Heads |


Once upon a time Everbody loved me

And i was happy to have everybody in my life

Then everybody soon started disappearing

And i was happy to have Somebody in my life

Somebody loved me a lot and cared for a lot

Then Somebody's mind got swayed and He left

Now Nobody loves me, He loves me a not lot but lots of not and nots of lot

When Everybody and Somebody went away

I was only...

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Also by Do.RoThy:

Feeling!! | Bird in a broken open cage!! | I will and sure i will | Lost!!! | Pull yourself up!! | My struggles!! | At the eleventh hour!! | Khamoshi!! | The world of imaginations | Torn pages of the book!!!!!! |


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Is emptiness a feeling?

Or is it the emotions

your smile is concealing?

Your head full of commotions.


What is it you believe in?

Universe – religion – self,

I can see it in your eyes –

it’s clear that you need some help!


They control you with your fears,

if only you could lull their

faint whispering in your ears.

Constant internal warfare.


They sa...

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His muse walked invisibly

Beside him

As she always did

Sometimes she hid

But even then

He knew

She was there

Could feel 

Her presence

In the air

Heard her 

Gentle sighs

In the



She would

Reveal something


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Also by Ruth O'Reilly:

Retrograde | Poements | Snow White Updated | Smile | Shadow Of Temptation |


At Christmas Time

Christmas is a time which we love and adore.

When we are happy, excited and so much more.

It is time when certain magic can all be believed,

When special gifts are both sent and received.


It is a time for families to all get together,

And be merry and joyful - whatever the weather.

It is time to put all quarrels aside,

To have fun and laughter with no need to hide.



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Also by Stuart Vanner:

Opinions | Shopping | Disco |

ChristmasStuart Vanner

missing her instead of me

you are not the girl i knew

yet i still love you. 

you chose a different path 

and you're not coming back. 

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Also by marlie:

too good | find yourself | you can heal me | haiku about you | the wait | come home | fuck you | above | roots | november 1st |

The Ocean Inside The Shell

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The salty sea spray sprinkles my skin,

like summer showers

That begin 

Then end 


I stand in front of a crust forming at the edge of the beach


Splintered, softened wood 



Shiny when wet

Their colours

Like common jewels

Topaz, ruby, emerald, turquoise, coral pink, terracotta

All there for the picking

All at my feet

This Novemb...

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beachchildhoodfamilyholidaysmemoriesmum and dadshell

To believe in something

I want to believe in something

but I have found everything wanting,

it drains my body

and weighs heavily on my mind.

Hard roads, travelling on

a tarmac of vicious blood

seeping out my blistered feet,

and my tortured muscles

holding me back,

but dragging me on.

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Also by Jon Stainsby:

Parched | The Human Effect |


Sonnet for Tunnel 29

Days may collect black teardrops in a can,

rendering the night to twitch, turn and crawl.

Rivulets can quell the dreams of a man, 

from taking chances, to plunder his all.


I’m told streams wind themselves to a river,

that David Bowie came here to get clean.

To converge is the current of the giver,

to stagnate, the language of the mean. 


‘No Mans Land’ is a field w...

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Also by Ralph Dartford:

Considering Lucy |

thoughts of  Saoirse

I have no words

to express the happiness

you brought to me


in quiet moments

in a wooded glade

dappled by sunlight

threading oaky leaves

remembering, remembering,

those pleasant days

we thought could never end


but ended anyway


a cluster of butterflies

stitching the air

pauses its tapestry,

motionless, freezing

an endless instant



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Also by Rick:

Poetry readings - approach with caution - they can turn deadly | christmas where a girlfriend worked |


Ronnie detests getting wet

so he doesn't go out in the rain

He's afraid there's a chance he'll dissolve

and trickle away down the drain


So he hunkers down in his house

guaranteed to stay warm and dry

and won't put one foot outside

if he spots just one cloud in the sky


But unable to use his car

whilst awaiting a fanbelt today

he ventured out in the rain


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Also by Brian Maryon:

The Queen's Empty Pockets | A CIVILIAN'S PERSPECTIVE | The End | Baaaastard !!!! | The Uxbridge Road |

Death for the old but a future for the young

The sun is setting in the aged's sky,

Not long to go before they die.

The sun is rising for the young as they plan ahead,

Full of opportunities and surprises,ambition led.


The hearses are waiting to pick the old up,

Wondering when they'll drink their  last cup.

Plenty of drinks for the young to swallow,

Large queues at the banks for them to borrow.


The money is th...

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Also by hugh:

The frying pan test | Avoid building a Berlin wall between us and the homeless | The importance of teamwork | Sleeping rough in Westminster | Tom Sykes | The parliamentary "night shift,"left bereft ! |

I am hope.

what used to hurt me

still does

what used to scare me

still does

what used to make me curl up on the floor

shaking to my very core

still does


I am constantly afraid that one day

I will come face to face with my mistakes

a tableau of painful regrets and aches

the times I said I couldn’t when I could

the times I said I wouldn’t when I would


the past stil...

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Also by Lily Petkova:

the things you left |

desirefuturegrowthhappinesshopeself loveSelf-beliefSelf-discoverySelf-doubtstrength

loves passport check

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Now I shall unpack

From the attic of my mind

Pull it out into the light

From the place it's

been consigned;


Past their care less checkpoints


ignore the watching queue

shrug my shoulders and my wants

check the time

and walk on through.


Words and images Tommy Carroll


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Also by Tommy Carroll:

r e f u g e | The Woman at My Table | Dragging the luggage | Advice to the Elderly on Bonfire Night |


There is a pit inside of me 

A deep, dark abyss where the negative thoughts grow 

“I will fail” 

“I cannot do this”


That is why 

When I look at you, there is pain behind my eyes

Bleeding onto my cheeks 

Staining all that surrounds me 


This bubble of safety 

Does not always contain it 


This is what high functioning looks like 

From afar, it is well co...

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Also by Cait Abbott:

Silent Prayers; Delicately Heard |

Anxietychangegrowthmental health


There's one glaring all-important difference between Nigel Farage and Boris Johnson as the election

campaign gets under way..

The former is using his Party to protect and preserve Brexit whereas the latter is using Brexit to protect

and preserve his Party.

Those familair with the actions of a previous Tory prime minister who is often to be heard spouting pro-EU

stuff might call it a...

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Also by M.C. Newberry:


no more.

a child in your arms.
ice cream on a stick.
a class of students.
with a lover in bed.
church bells and rice.
a child in my arms.
a rocker on the porch.
a cloud of memories.

no more.


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Also by Fred Nicholson:

In the super market | the A, B, C's skip a beat.* | Seeing all too clearly. |


In gilted gold halls

Between wealth wrought walls

Came the last of the self-pronounced worthy

Their dresses and suits 

Swayed to silver flutes

Music divine and unearthly

And the satirists would depict

Just how all were tricked

And subjugated without mercy


Each position maintained 

And anger reigned

In a rife and rapacious rancour

Each being to steeped to se...

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Also by Joshua Van-Cook:

The causality casualty | River amidst a forest fire | Polarity | Limerick | Sidelined Life |


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Hello darkness my old friend, once again I must pretend

On my face a smile so wide, hides the pain within I hide

A very sunny disposition, eludes, evades, my true condition

                                Within the sounds of silence

Painted smile upon my face, the truth wills out, when erased

Standing naked within the...

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Also by poemagraphic:

11/11 11:00 Memorial | Faking it | Heros Roll | The Goon Show ii | The way we were | Come On! HONK | White Knuckle Ride | Don't cross the line |


Shadow victim

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Such ignorance.
In the eyes of the unwary.
Of all that is to come.
Happily singing, in a world of their own.
Late is this hour.
The lonely walk home......
Hatred is rising not far away.

Terror flirting with shadows.
Malevolence prowling.
The scent of flesh is relived.
Tonight, seems right.
Under a bridge an entity awakens.
Stilettos chip away at lose tarmac.
A rhythmic sy...

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Also by Robert holyland:

Why write out loud? | Fields of Glory ( young hearts ) | Rotting Pumpkins | Dream invasion | The End without You. | All will be dust. | Deluge. | To forget me. |

Vita hominum flos est


Inscribed on Emanuel Sweert's painting 'Florilegium': Man's life is a flower.

Like a flower, he comes forth, then withers away; 
like a fleeting shadow, he does not endure.

Book of Job 14:2


While I watched, her blossom

faded from the field

left no shadow


Now all life expects in this eleventh hour

we should revere lost heroes with a flower


But I shall not ad...

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The Place of Dreams?

As I am dreaming of spirit or demon

Driving me on to confusion of mind

Vivid then hazy my eyelids feel lazy

Limbs feeling heavy and fingers entwined 

Floating, show boating because I can fly

Let’s drink as I sink in this place in my sky


I go there, I cry there, not die there, not yet

Tossing and turning, mind churning a lie?

A place that seems tranquil, eerie and dry


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Also by Fred 'Rick' Varden:

The Druid |


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Goodbye dreams, you have left me for the last time
Phantoms in the boxcars of my mind, screeching down track
This first taste of cold is biting at my back, and I can't run fast enough

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Also by Patrick Kennon:

Ardea herodias | Sleeping among spiders | Bacteria culture | Umbilical | Slave of the flies |

What am I to do? 

Anything at all? 

Is it any of my business? 

I've been gone so long. 

But I see it dying. 

I can't just let it die. 

But if it's what all others want

Then who am I to try? 

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Silent sounds of quiet quirky quiffs

Spent my destiny trying to find someone like you,
went through a decade worth of decaying decoys,
oing downhill with the destroyed disguise.

Spent my love on hoarding hordes of hatred,
yet just like heather hills you're calming for my mind.

And I, need to get away,
so why, keep on lying to my face. 

So this house was built by ordinary men and women,
powering through hustles while we sip on...

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November Collage poem: Grim but Good

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From spaceships of harmony

Into the fires of Hell

Mouldy undertaking no more


A trodden mind, angry in the Nut Bar

I need more than seven words, please


Neil Young – grim and grizzled –

Summoned by starship –

Says he can’t go because of his terrible I.B.S.


Drinking tears to dry up the well, pointless

Advertising tissues then.


She wasn’t always fifty ...

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2019grim but goodNovember collage poem

The Bittern

The bittern booms - 

in desolation 

Accent of wind - 

cuts through the reed

The flatland listens - 

to isolation 

In solo passage - 

upon the wind

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Late Halloween poem |

The cosmos grunts

You enjoy highlighting
Your reproductive qualities

As if there was a shortage
Of people in the world

You project an image of 
Cool confidence in plastic

Your mantra is “No drama” 
As if the world wasn’t spinning

A thousand miles per hour 
On its axis

And I want it
Although it’s bad for me

Rotating at 67000 
miles per hour around a star 

I think I’m in love
But I don’t ...

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Also by Robert C Gaulke:

Best Things | Geminis | my rationale |

Paradoxical Epiphany

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A lakeside photo was intentionally
displayed upside down,
and it took forever for
me to come to terms
with my feeling of

The muted reflection
established my Truth
of the world at that
moment, while I
struggled to accept
the clear and sharp
presentation of
existence upside down.

I thought of the paradox,
and suddenly realized
what Plato must have meant.

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Also by Randy Horton:

Ingress without Invitation | Where Authors Whine About The Poor Quality Of Their Readers |

divided linePlatoreflections

A strange feeling

I sit in shallow waters,

By the end of this bend,

Knees pointed toward the open sky.


I peer into everland,

Little bit more to wonder,

God I wish the rain would come.


It's a cold night,

Within this great december,

And I wash my clothes in the river bay.



Deadly mother,

I sleep in a position that's comfortable.


Frequent in the sha...

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