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Poetry (Remove filter)



Inside a Christmas card
From prisoners afraid,
In a factory in China
Where nothing much is paid,
A handwritten message
From poor souls enslaved,
In oppressive conditions
Where festive things are made.

Telł somebody beg the authors
The truth about this trade,
That those who make big money
Our wretched lives degrade
So in this season of goodwill
When joy sho...

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poetryWelsh Poets.David SubacchiDavid Subacchi

only poetry

only poetry

can explain my 

coarsened hands made so unsteady

muffled heart beat - louder, heavy

trusting eyes fallen too quickly 

flaring skin

an impish grin


only poetry

and you

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poetryeyessmilefreeverseshort poemimagery

New York City

a whiff of caffeine and cologne on your left collar, two cups of decaf 

and half a hug along the plane of our shoulders

       and we took off


with stolen glances at my pendant as red and radiant as the waking sun  

and the mole on the bottom right corner of my cheek, scaled to the size of a period that never surfaced in our conversations 

        our wings welcomed the wind li...

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As I peddled, hell for leather, down the hill upon my bike,

I saw the lights TURN RED, ahead, a sight i didnt like,

My bicycle was ancient, it only had one brake

It took some time in slowing down.... of that there's no mistake

I duly pulled the brake on but the bike just kept on going

The cable SNAPPED, I had No Brake, or anyway of slowing


The people crossing up ahead, not k...

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Once there was a special lad, dinky little mite
He wasn,t very big at all, his stature very slight
It didnt seem to bother him, not bother him at all
Although the other kids in class, all seemd to look so tall

He didnt let him hold him back, he took it on the chin
And soon became a favourite, with his cheeky little grin
His sparkling personality, could light up any s...

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Savaged Soul

If I knew your poetry would suddenly 
I would have memorized 
every poem,
to comfort me
when I feel alone. 
Your words help heal 
my savaged soul.
I'm sad you had to go.

# # #

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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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kindred spiritlovepassionpoetpoetryrelationships


Frantically he taps on the glass

Louder as they pass

Now he screams

But not through a window

It's a screen

Nobody knows

He's scrolling

His soul away

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Social mediaflash fictionpoetry

In search of an identity......

All I see is a mist of darkness,
With nowhere to thread my feet in,
In World where there is absence of kindness,
I see a light of hope so thin.
I can’t go on; my body and my soul are giving in,
There’s no fire in belly to seek reasons for my quest,
With efforts and motivation of my kith and kin,
Now, I go along the path where the birds fly in the air so clean.
Then, I arrive at the gates o...

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Fan Girl

I snuggle up to your virtual feet, 

raring to read

your magical poetry,

that makes me purr, 

like a cat in heat. 

There is no need to wine or dine me.

Just string a poetic line,

I’ll be yours until the end of time. 





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I last wrote about our five quite some time back,

a time when, for each of them, you and I (and mostly you)

still weighed in and sparred, day on day, in any cause,

on standby should they slip or fall – though close at hand is, perhaps,

the better way to say it, the gentle way to convey a sense of

our being technically unseen, absent, yet able to be found

by one or two, no more th...

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Don’t give in to the madness.

Save it for another day, 

long after you’ve left this life 

that’s full of opportunities.

Life is like the weather.

All you have to do is wait

for the rain to go away, 

the storm to pass,

and enjoy the sunshine

in between. 


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Poetic vision

Reading between 

The blurred lines

Defining sublimes 

Of reality

Noticing all

That others

Can't see

This how

Poets bring


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Wish You Were Here

Wish you were here,
to break down all the differences,
to shake down all the borders,
to melt down all the distance,
to connect all the figures
in the right place.
What else could, what else could confront us?
In the same way we breath,
in the same way we cry,
wish you were here,
tonight when the whole world is empty
and there is no one left to die.

Wish you were here,
to create all...

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love poetrypoetrywritingsad poetrylove poems

Why Poems?

Poems are my photographs
my diary
my inner monologue
poems are my measurement
my record
the fingerprints of emotions
invisible no more
Poems are my expression
the sum of interactions
they show my working out
Poems are the breath
of lost lovers
against my neck
Poems are my kisses
for my family and my friends
the hugs I seldom give

And your poems...
your poems keep me company
a l...

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What is Poetry?

Poetry is my 
drug of choice,

calming rain, 
rays of sunshine. 

an antidote 
to suffering,

waltzing words
on lonely nights,

my lost lover 
in my ear,

of fear,

wind beneath
birds in flight,



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Chit Chat

Speaking can feel like your swallowing

So, you may as well swallow instead

Or it’s giving,

Giving and giving

Fingers down your throat,


Searching for…

Will I be stronger tomorrow?

Or just hollow tomorrow?

So, you end up filling up on someone else’s dictionary

I am disarmed without my language

But my language is disarming

Words do break your bones


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silencetalkingtherapyanxietystresstheraputictalkopening updenialstiflesuppressiondepressionquietwordslanguagepoetrypower of words


Some truths are hard to conceive

Beyond what I’m able to believe

The joy remembered as tears we cried

How is it 35 years since Ian Curtis died?



A man who once lived in Macclesfield, this poem was written in May 2015

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poetryjoy division

November Horoscope

November begins on a point of tension

Now the political stuff 

I'll not even mention

Mercury retrograde has just begun

It can make a fool of anyone

You might be misunderstood

It could cause a delay

People from your past

May come back your way

Mars and Pluto in the boxing ring

Watch out for trouble

If you've had a secret fling

November 8th will touch your soul


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Do it anyway

Expressing isn't always about impressing

Sometimes it's a confession

Or the regression of a memory


It might even be

About a maybe

A one day me


That I only see

Approximately more clearly

When it's put into words


It could seem absurd

When it's read

Or tis' heard


But they must be released

In order to cease

My mental marathon


When a...

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Writingwriting for funpoetry

Willpower and Discipline

Willpower and discipline,
have long been two of the 
most despised words in the 
english language to me.

What character flaw prevents  
the willpower and discipline
necessary to be the person
I imagine myself capable of being?

A half-lived life is heartbreaking.
There is no acceptable excuse, 
not age or disability.

Even people with no limbs 
live empowered lives 
built on willp...

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disabilitydisciplineempowermentfriendsheartbreaklifeloneliness. regretpoemspoetryreflectionrelationshipsweaknesswillpower


The way I write…
I brainstorm twenty titles
words or phrases
that sound good to me
that subconsciously
already feel like parts of me
then I refine them
and refine them
pile them up around my feet

And when I’m in the mood to write
I’ll either start writing
(with aim or aimlessly)
until I get stuck
then I grab a title
work it in the lock
release whatever’s hidden
(and it feels good...

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Eyes Open Wide

With purest open heart

Negativity now depart

In beauty walking

Inner voice talking

Cleansed, whole

Mind, body, soul

Harmonious living

Smiles easily giving

Complete inside

Eyes open wide

Still point that is sought

All actions, all thought

Transformation undergo

To understand, to know

Truly deeply fathom

Love in every atom…


Dean Fraser - The Quant...

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Wake up

Courtesy of 'C'


The call of  Courage

Will cause you

To pull back

The covers

Of uncertainty

And lift your

Head from

A cosy cushion

At first 

You may


But out of


Comfort Zone

You must



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Love Letter to My Muse

All day long 

I think of you. 

I can’t wait to get home 

to be with you,

to feel your ink drip 

between my fingers.

You are my love,

my passion,

my muse.

I know you will 

never leave me. 

We are bound 

by a legacy of words, 

that braids our soul.

Our poetry echoes 

through time and space, 

leaves a soft place 

for broken hearts to land. 

# # # 


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When the birds take back their language,

when the trees unloose

their tenderly hands from around you,

when the air doesn't breathe

and the seas are tearing,

when the flowers whisper:

No, you own nothing,

then remember:

You're visitor,

honoring the hospitality.

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mother naturebeautylifeheartstillnesspeacefulfriendshippoetrywisdomphilosophypoems on spiritualitymetaphysics


And one day,

the sun stopped,

the rain stopped falling,

the flowers didn't look high,

the sky emptied of stars,

then a tear dripped

from the heart and became our breath.

We need a sacred tear,

before the fall...

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lovefeelingsFrom the heartinner beautynaturewisdomspiritualpoetrypoemphilosophyconsciousnesslifelightstillness


To know my fingerprints
on another’s heart
could stir them into art
a priceless gift, a magic

To know there is a poem
written about me
those words, more beautiful
than I could ever hope to be

From the caverns of passed time
there comes a sound
a constant, quiet, ring
when I choose to listen
always there
telling of another way of living

That the heart of an artist
a complexly c...

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Sometimes you can surprise yourself at what you can acheive when you ignore your so called limitations...


Bumblebee's body

Is way too heavy

It's wing span

Far too small


This little fella

Can't fly

But he doesn't

Know that 

At all

He keeps flying...

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Climate Change

Earth as our landlord

A notice was given

Broken agreements

Eviction is imminent

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climate changepoetry

prismatic beings

legs crossed i lay, deep in prayer

as i enter her domicile pyramid prism with a rainbow flash

headspace filled with subsequent intrinsic peace and peachy afterglow, washing out wrath

sifting through the banks of her mind, i produce schisms, and visually metaphysical visions

visualization techniques split at the ream leaving a colorful flurry

scurrying across triangular entropy into ...

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New Age Spiritualityspiritualitynaturemotherlovelifepoetrypoemrelationshipshappiness

Her Dog's Voice

This is about my first dog who sparked off my interest in the paranormal due to experiences I had related to him from a young age


When you were a baby

I was a pup

I was always there

To cheer you up

I'd guard your pram

Outside the shops

With my nose

On your door

I'd often knock

I loved days

When we used

To play ball

I'd lick your knee

Each time


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We Were Who We Were

It was 1990 when we met,

before we were who we were.


The nineties were running through sprinklers

in summer,

playing whiffle ball in the yard,


make-believe games, stick horses,

and dances to Green Day.


The 2000s were much the same,

with crushes, dear diaries,

womanhood, and makeup

sprinkled about like the dandelion seeds

we used to blow into...

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poetrypoempoetssad poemssad poetry

Bad Brexit Romance

Assumptions can consume

Before the truth is known

Reacting far too soon

Or are we already outgrown?

Queuing up the arguments

Let's give this one a try

It can't just stay like this

That's why it's do

Or die

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Warrior of Spirit

When you invest in yourself you're better able to be of service to others...


Cultivating patience

Mastering persistence

Strengthening of mind

Building up resistance

Turning rage

To courage

In the heat of

Pure devotion

Streaming forth

A life force

Greater than 

An ocean

Evaporating uncertainty

Continuing to flourish

All within his orbit

He certai...

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Let Me Breathe

Writing poetry has become 

an automatic response 

to the slightest wave 

of rejection 


washing me up onto the shore 

covering me in seaweed 

and telling me i dont 



Rejection blankets me 

in teary eyes 

tugs at my heart 

leaves me to die 


As if the society 

that rejected me 

dunked my head 

under the sea water  

and my weeps we...

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second wind

My vitality feels resuscitated with every breathe we share

two halves of a heart

you are the oxygen that pumps, vestibule, pair of consonance heartbeats

bounce off the walls.

we jump up and down hand in hand

your touch warms through and lights a fire inside and around

sound mind when your whisper incites a riot

the night is charged, god particles in the air.

our souls dance...

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beautybreathehappinesslifelovelove makingnaturepoempoetryrelationshipsspiritualspirituality

Self Loathing’s Song

I am applauded for my supposed talents and works. Can’t they see these talents and works are nothing more than self-loathing’s reign over me.

Her quiet whispers are boundless as she drenches my ear with invectives and affirms my triviality.  Her voice has become a familiar melody that serenades my mind and her song confronts anyone who challenges her position. 

I attempt to war against her w...

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Beautifully Broken

Beautifully Broken

People surround me but inside I stand in solitude. I have slowly become victim to the sickness parade giving it way to ravage my passion and spirit.  

Despair clutches my soul tightly in her hand creating a continuum of anguish and relentless torture.  My vices allow her to slumber, but soon she wakes refreshed with the energy of a young fawn on an early spring day.  She a...

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Self-Loathing’s Song

I am applauded for my supposed talents and works. Can’t they see these talents and works are nothing more than self-loathing’s reign over me.

Her quiet whispers are boundless as she drenches my ear with invectives and affirms my triviality.  Her voice has become a familiar melody that serenades my mind and her song confronts anyone who challenges her position. 

I attempt to war against her w...

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Rough Diamond

More on the whole writing process, & turning your scribbled notes into something....

Mining my mind

For Diamonds

Rough Nuggets

On Notes

Are the

Shy Ones

Got To

Polish 'em Out

Nice & Shiny

Won't Let


Self Doubts

Defy Me



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What's Left?

Here's the science bit... the left side of the brain is where visuals and imaginative ideas are constructed and so....

Is someone being misleading

Telling tales Oh So deceiving?

With every word they utter

There just ain't 

No believing

Still searching for the truth

But not a single trace

One thing  that you must do

Look straight 


Their face

As soon as you'v...

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Where is the magic?

We all start out knowing magic.

We are born with hurricanes and whirlwinds,

oceans and galaxies inside us.

We are able to sing to birds and read the clouds

and see the destiny in grains of sand.

But we have forgotten the magic

and we feel without compass, alone and desperately,

only selfishness, only pain, fear and darkness.

But, magic of love has nev...

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Poetry and Me

I love to write poetry,

As it gives me vent for my expressions.

And I believe it a more peaceful way

Than turning to aggression.


Of all the words that I could choose

I am in the main seat of control.

To show my thoughts and feelings, 

And exult the reader's soul.


And when I find my inspiration,

I ponder - what is my next direction?

And though I find it hard ...

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InspirationPoemsPoetryStuart Vanner

Ladies and gentleman we're not even in space, no need to rush in

I’m sorry that I can’t bring myself to like the stories from the book you’ve been reading,
in all honesty all I can see are empty words that are misleading.
Late night arguments,
and even later apologies,
could this really be the pinnacle of conflicting ideologies.

Brown sugar coated lies,
wearing a sweet disguise,
frowned upon by the broken,
unspoken truths,
trapped behind those beauti...

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You came in to this world

with enough light to find

your way out of the dark,

enough kindness to save a soul,

enough love to shift a planet.

Don't worry, you are enquipped

with all you could ever need.

Look with in,

you are drenched in magic.

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You only see it when you slow down

Inspired from a book called stop,look,breathe,create which we were studying at my bookclub, and it got me to do just that


Shadow of light

Like a portal 


At First

Out of sight


Suddenly Here

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meditation on a themepoetry

Brother Leaf

Nature's hands

On my hands

These leaves

Are leaving

An impression

On me

Feeling it's veins


About us

Is the


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meditation on a themeNaturepoetry

Brexit Poker


Got on

His poker face

He says there'll be No reshuffle

Poor ol' Boris 

More disgrace

His hair

All in

A ruffle

'We need to leave

Before Bewitching Night

I'm really in a rush'

But we all know they can't get it right

We'll never get our royal flush



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