Poetry Blogs (Oct 2020)

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Paul Sayer on The Grave Yard (8 hours ago)

Vautaw on Love lines (8 hours ago)

Vautaw on Falling (8 hours ago)

John Coopey on Such Dreams as Stuff are made on... (9 hours ago)

Rose Casserley on Every Day (9 hours ago)

Rose Casserley on Custard Creams (9 hours ago)

keith jeffries on "Armed Men" (10 hours ago)

New Shoes on The Grave Yard (11 hours ago)

Nicola Beckett on Magic Gems (11 hours ago)

John Coopey on PARALLAX 29 (12 hours ago)

J.P.`s "RIDE"

I`m going to ride around on my Big Wheel.

I can spin the tires, and that whole ordeal.

I can peddle fast, and really make them squeal.

I will take a ride, and show off my appeal.

I cleaned my wheels, their, shine is ideal.

I am jamming to "Low Rider". I have the whole feel.

This Big Wheel will do, until Dad gets me the real deal.

Some day, Dad will get me a Ford, made of cold ...

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Also by J.D. Bardo:

The skin we are in. | The "beat" | THE KILLER beside me | Give and Take | Infinity | THE BUG | My view | Worn out | Clouds |


I think I truly hate Halloween
It was the last day I saw my mother
She packed her bags and left
I have a couple of issues that I'll never fix
I'll keep Nirvana Rape Me on replay

Mentally, sexually and physically abused
So tonight I ask why do I miss her
After a head full of trauma

Sometimes I wish I could be fixed 
The wound that she left has never healed
I still have broken ribs and...

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Also by Damon Blackery:

Anti-depression | Corpses In My Bed | Puppets | Cry Baby | A Kingdom On The Moon Lyrics | A Letter To The Past |


She found a home in his heart

A heart broken him found comfort in her

A young and attractive damsel from heaven

Whose childlike manners were enough for him

The day he saw her disheveled look

He instantly promised himself nowhere to look

He gave her his loyalty, heart and his soul

Detached himself completely from all others

And they made love in shacks and in open fields


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Also by Moon.girl:

Walk along | Believe | Grass is much greener on my side | Bad smile | Building up | The day was night | Under construction | Big bully | Burning homes | Different ecstasy!! | Ducked!! | Solitary confinement | A tale of two hearts - Part 1 | Words of honour | Just a moment | Don't imagine | THANK YOU | Love struck | Humbled | Looking beyond | Revived | Well- come | Matrix | Divine gifts of love | Wishing well | Love is in the air | Finally | Death |

The imbecile's verbal dosido


"Egypt will blow up
The Grand Ethiopian
Renaissance Dam!
Ethiopia ,a symbol
of Pan Africanism,
Could forget
Its development map,
For Egypt will help
Carry on colonial legacy
In to the future,"
So  did
A verbal dosido
The ill-famed abuser.

"We dote on Egypt,
Terror sowing
In Ethiopia.
Ironically a terrorist
My self
I will strike out
Sudan from terrorist
If it sid...

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Also by Alem Hailu G/Kristos:

World's ever myopic president |




Feet have helped carry me

through the journey of life,

or have walked into things

if I was distracted - cost

lolly to buy or repair those


shoes I stood up in, or those hard

nailed boots when yomping with

military awell as the finance

to buy and repair - but being well

shod helps you walk tall when


outside in the street and facing

beggar's outstretc...

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Also by Philipos:


Love lines

It isn't a one-off gift

or a precarious promise


I offer you

this written-on page of my heart


it is a sample

of what is to come

for you and I


getting itself

dressed up to kill

the space between us


accept it

let it carry my life-long intention

to light up your days and nights forever


as strong as

the power of the sun and moon


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New World History

entry picture

I dreamt of the
last night as I stood
and watched as
two planes collide
and I hear the sound
as from a memory.

The felt warmth
of neutrinos
scarring an image
through every skull
like a beautiful

We sighed as the missiles
wrote their new world history-
though shorter than a blink.

foto & poem T Carroll


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Also by Tommy Carroll:

Bloody Valentine | A Wave from a passing bus | Virus et al | The Pieces |


Be very careful with the images on television 

For your eyes may believe what it sees

So avoid the visions of others 

And let your mind see what it believes 

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Also by Joe Marcello:


Message to a racist

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A ferocious sea of red, white and blue
Sieg heils and swastikas, Doc Marten boots
Shaven heads, braces and distorted faces
Driven by fear and irrational hatred
You think you're superior, sophisticated
The master race, ha! But your views are outdated
With your big fat round belly and your face like a pig
Your snarled lips as you yelled and you screamed and you hissed
At me, commie bitch, ni...

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NFRacismsexual abusesexual assaultstrength.

"Armed Men"

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Armed men"

In the middle of a cold night,
Hands clutched on our lovers
And our lovers on us
Birds in a distant singing gleeful songs,
Stars smiling down on us
Everything flowing in its own tranquility.
Then, we heard gun shots
and our heartbeat became still
We ran towards the window
Peeping cautiously so they don't see our eyes.
We saw them,
men in black with bloodshot eyes and a har...

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Also by Emeka Collins:

Bloodshed in Nigeria | "Soro Soke" (Battle Cry) | "The Struggle" | "The Soul of Freedom" |

crimePolice brutality




I love him for his innate vulnerability

so I can massage those florid areas

of soreness to restore

confidence and bring healing

I shower petals of affection on his

trembling inner self

where darkness and doubt lie

in an abyss of inbred fear

His spontaneous outbursts of love

are fountains of intense colour

I am forever intrigued by his

evolutionary proc...

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Also by keith jeffries:

Blessings Abound | A Dusty Road | The Dinghy of Hope | An Account | The Eternal Void | A New Horizon | The Ecclesiastical Empire | Mendicants Slumber |

Such Dreams as Stuff are made on...


Dreams are such strange creatures

Presenting vivid or

amorphic features


They steep your mind

in make-believe

Where past & present



I'm in the woods

'neath a gnarly tree

Where friends of old 

run wild & free 


Friends who now rest

as soil or ash

Or who simply faded

into time's elapse


But, I'm standing there

Fully gro...

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Also by Stephen W Atkinson:

Cooking Pot! | Head Space | The Darkness And The Light | Bed Of Bones | Above The Clouds | Seven Little Girls... | Ethereal Streaming |


Sheltered in Place

they will never know the stillness, 

the silence, as the world hushes

when the first snowflakes drop out of the sky.


they will never feel the crisp air

or see white blanket the fields

as it does every year.


kept indoors,

safe and warm,

where humidity breathes,

where mist showers from above,

and crawling critters burrow,

where life continues.



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Also by kimberly:

Summer Love Swept Away | You Never Knew | The Season of Changes | Tears of a Poet | unease |

When I grow up

To be 60 and have no plan

As to where my life should go 

Is a poor reflection of a man

And the paths he chose to follow


When I was young with years ahead

I thought little of the future 

And focused on the now instead

With no grand scheme to nurture


Now I feel my life has just begun

But no vocation beckons

No -one sees within my life’s span

The depth of al...

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Portrait                         GLA 2020


Well Its time to look forward for you and for me ‘Cause I’ve spent my time so foolishly, as ten years went past before I was free. Now we spend our time in sweet harmony.

So sit before me and love me true and I’ll paint my portrait of you, so sit before me and love me true and I’ll paint my portrait of you

I was hopelessly lost on a path fill...

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Also by Grant Aspinall:

Yesteryear | Sliding doors | Wake up call | Bewlay brother | A warm embrace | Behind that Jaguar | Donna | Washing machine | Old home brew | Leave me be | Eternal Full Moon | silence | POEMS 2020 |

Slow Leak


Most of my poems

are low on air

they carry little weight

and often are under-inflated

I wish I could be serious

and write a serious poem

but seriously all my poems

have a tendency to go flat

they are worn out and bald

and ready for the salvage yard

I hope you can limp into a poem station

and pump up this poem

before it leaves you literally stranded

in th...

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Also by d.knape:

Toothless Wonder | Telephone Poles | Stray Thoughts | When You Write It Down | BRINGING MORE READERS TO POETRY | CROSSES | The Sundown Syndrome | Of All The Years | Old Ideas---a poem by O.L. Buzzerd | When Someone Dies | Follow The Wind | Looney Tune | Saving Grace | Chicken Fingers | Notice to Poets | Crow Conversations | Getting By | Poetry Pill | Your Happiness | The Nature Of Man | Silent Killer | On Hold |


entry picture

It is a well guarded miltary secret that there is a parallax or three-dimensional hole in number sequences. The most used of these is the 29th parallax which is vital for the technology of stealth bombers and other invisible "phenomena".  At the risk of alerting the CIA that this is now in the public domain, I shall try to demonstrate as simply as I can the 29th parallax. (This is the only truly t...

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Also by John Coopey:


Magic Gems

Rock Crystal of purest energy

Smoky Quartz creating good chi

Amethyst powerful healer

Apache Tear karmic revealer

Rose Quartz the love stone

Carnelian “in the zone”

Tigereye Gold attracts wealth

Malachite the aid to health

Amazonite for lucky days

Sunstone sunshine rays

Bloodstone the blood tonic

Snowflake Obsidian life harmonic

Moonstone sweet dreams

Black O...

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Also by deanfraserofficial@yahoo.com:

Acting Upon a Dream | The Shaman In The Park | Eyes Open Wide | Illuminated - A Brighter Kind Of Vibe | Turning Back Time In Margate | Stanley |

#inspiration #spiritualgrowth #nature #meditation

Custard Creams

A recalcitrant granny at my local ALDI

Seeking a refund on her custard creams

Made me wonder how you get a refund

After a whole lifetime of broken dreams


Merchandisers of Eros were my nemesis

I bought my first dream from sweet Julia

Redolent of cinnamon and Dioressence

Before morphing into something peculiar


Heather's packaging was slick and cool

Her labelling ...

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Also by simon lucan:

Confetti | In The Foyer Of Hotel Lonely | Best Supporting Actress | Eternity Always Wins | The Cellars Of Your Heart | In Chains Of Faded Flowers | Skip Hire | Aversion Therapy | Photos | Shredded | Fusion | I Saw Ice In Your Farewell | The Conscience You Never Had | The Lantern | Ashes Are Better Than Nothing | Shattering | Chiropody | Stairs | Horizons Dont Wait For Anyone | Fearful? | Relict | One of the Chosen |

custrad creamsdreamsErospackagingpromotionreceiptrefundstock

Songs Of Prometheus

there will be a baby crying

in the next room, but not yet

people are still standing around

my bed and I’m still on my last breaths

they won’t leave until I have gone

a brown leaf about to fall


I remember the white foam of waves

not rampaging bulls in Spanish streets

but subtle colourings of children’s books

gently paging in rippling tides by bare feet

sand on toe...

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Also by Clive Culverhouse:

Shamaness |

He’s Behind You!

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He’s Behind You!


There’s a wrapping upon my bed-chamber door

I drag myself up, slowly walk across the floor

“Who is it?” I ask, between incessant coughing hacks

Tis I, ‘Doctor Death’ come to claim yore death tax


Creakingly, slowly I open the door

Come in my dear old friend; it is you I’m waiting for

What use have I for this plague-ridden shell

Or continuing this d...

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Also by Paul Sayer:

Blinded by this Covid hype | When The Sad Truth Dawns | I open my Soul | Goodbye old friend | All in all you're just another prick in Whitehall |

At Deaths Door.Plague DoctorThe Grim Reaper

Every Day


They take each other to the sun 
delighted having their portrait taken
with fingers entwined 
each feels joy that the other is leading 
and furthest from their minds
lies a destination approaching
sunshine's victory over shadow

Bees dancing in the air before flowers
they revel in such a fragile and temporary status
revel in anonymity
by night in each others arms 
they are happy t...

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Also by Adam Whitworth:

Goodbye To All That | Congratulating Louise Gluck On Her Nobel Prize | At The Station | You can't see the join | D.S.O.T.M. |

"When will I get to see my man ?"

Mary's husband in a carehome resides,

There due to lockdown ,unvisited,does hide.

Suffering dementia,the past he has lost,

"Every day I don't see him,comes at a cost.


He has been my husband for 50 years,

For his mental health I have grave fears.

My husband needs contact with the one he has loved,

Sectioned and secluded into a care home he's been shuved.


In dementi...

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Also by hugh:

"I love you, your mine." | Made in China | The tears of Diana | Lost for words | A bloody misunderstanding | Scary scripture words | The skip a day diet | A delve into the mind of an evil virus | Lady Luck gave me a chance | Jake's coronavirus cover up | Well done Naomi Jupp aged 15,a newspaper delivery girl in Dorset. | 21 | When will I see you again? | Margaret Ferrier M.P. | 6 penalty points and a £200 fine! | A vaccine is on the horizon somewhere in a scientist's head | Flogging a dead donkey |

Owning Stones


I have no stones to cast, I am not without sin,
Nor so free of error, that my stones could be thrown, 
My, “house of glass,” is glazed with panes so thin,
The slightest pebble of hypocrisy would leave my windows, “Blown,”
And each of my mistakes, when counted on the ledger,
Would fill so many pages that the book would need re-writ, 
And every line and letter, acts as mindful measure, 

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Also by Jason Bayliss:

Gire & Gimble | The Bitter Pill | Open | Captain Of Your Soul | Here And Now | The Witches Of The Pond | Hush The Winds | Rome Lays Charred and Smoking | Clay |

Weep Your Tears

Weep your tears

For years to come

No fear, but Sorrow stays

A loyal friend

Who knows no end 

You will see brighter days

You'll feel the pain

The rain will fall

And drain you of your light

But do not dwell

You'll not do well

Unless you stand and fight

Return to love

The skies above

And all that you have known

You'll find your way

The light will stay


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Also by Eric Berard:

Piercing Light | Don't Need to be the King |

Loving You

Loving you is easy because your you 

Loving you ain't hard because all I want is you 

Walking through fire was easy I get chills from you 

Crossing the ocean was light swim cause I get and extra push from you

Getting the stars and moon for you wasnt a impossible thing cause this love gives me wings 

My words they beautiful they take after you 

My rhythm is amazing it took all you...

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Also by Jay:

Temptations | Hate You | New Life |

break uplovers


Another crisp Autumn morning.

I wake before dawn, 

hoping I won't think of you, 

but I do. I always do. 

Though you are not with me, 

I feel you, in the brisk breeze,

spreading golden leaves,

on sacred ground.


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Also by Vautaw:

Flow | Petrichor | I Am Poetry | Gravity |


Der mittag

Sand loosely without a system

here and there grass lost on his path

of a soft noon

Magic filled with impatient and failed laughter

on all the known faces

Silence controlling us internally

the breaking of branches

absorbed in a sheet of moss

and holes for undersized mice

to hide from the winged oppertunist

Horizon filled with dark woods

and snow topped mountains


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Also by Rudyard Kooistra:

Another castle | The subway, 1950. | Cartier Bresson | River landscape | No title. | Falls | Flock | Style. | Elisha | The writing shed, Dylan Thomas. | Staffa, JMW Turner. | The hospital at Arles 1889 | Rooftops 1878 | New mills | Valley and church | Pissarro 1868 | A taube | River | Stahl | Ersturmung des dorfes |

What It Took

The dreary sludge slinked along and oozed into our intimate conscience.

The thick pernicious inferno of fear infested closer, ever closer,

Burning the life from creation and suffocating reason with anti-reason.

Pathways were overtaken; what seemed a way of escape was, infact, a trap.  


It crept its way into our yards, under our fences, and up against our doors.

The hot plumbic ...

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I dragged some bones up from a well,

Invoked the devil and cast a spell:

Alacazam and Hokus Pokus,

What do you know, a diplodocus!

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Also by branwell kent:

Sad Times | poem |


entry picture



Here in the verdant meadows

All on a summer’s day

The dreaded army of the dark

Met with the noble fey

They fought until the long sundown

And the lost blood of the dead

Soaked into the sacred ground

And turned the roses red


When the fight was over

And the legion of the flies

Had swarmed across the corpses

Stealing hope from sightless eyes


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Also by Ian Whiteley:

CrowLore | Prophecy | Lazarus Curse | Resurrected | Apothecary | White Witch Of Winter | The Pumpkin Queen |


Spoken in the Corridor

This which dissents madness,
and is arrogant in fro,
sits with legs twisted against cold iron.

It's the standing beats,
and echos in my ears,
and I wish I could just not care.

He sits and deters the thing within,
and is alone in decatoured reflection,
yet I wish I did not feel so fucking trapped in my own skin.

I feel a need to be something,
greater than perhaps needed,
and I wish...

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Also by Alita Moore:

Narcissistic America (opinion piece) |

Missed query?

Swayed away by
The serene spells;
The kid anchored
Like a cherub
In paternal hand
Keeps winding the stairs
Up the lighthouse...!

The winding mesh
Like paper made
Ladder ;stretched
Out from heaven

St Peter smiled at her!

She reached the top
Delving hard like
A warrior!! 
Mesmerized by the 
Brimming beauty down;

The earth with its lush
Green and blue lines
Thrashing down...

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Also by Krishnadeepthy:

Beware love temples! | The reddened life | The shadows | Blue men |

Just had a large glass of wine

So it's time to honest

While I still can

I feel it upon us

This change demands

And what will I do

Concientiously object?

Because I do not trust

Must less people we elect

And he's an ass

I've always thought so

And taking a risk

Ugh, the world adult

But I'm going to do it

CRT has me worried

I'm going to cast

That vote so orange

And I swear to God


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Also by Collin Pulmano:

HSP 18 | HSP 17 | HSP 16 | HSP 15 |

Locked up north

Third tier anesthesia
In a locked up north,
We keep the life we’re given,
Our store of words aint fled,
Belief? Empty as a music box
Providing housing for the dead;
The bridge twixt give and taking
Has crumpled into dust
And for the cowering people — wee, sleekit, cow’rin, tim’rous beasties -
Survival is a must.


We struggle to talk as free folk,
We no longer dream of the new Jeru...

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Also by John E Marks:

Memory | Soul music | Buckle* | The Cure | City of the Bee | Diversity | Crimson & Clover | THE VOICE OF DEATH, THE VOICE OF LOVE & THE VOICE OF ART | poetry is... | Inside Out | BEGGAR | Fear in a handful of dust | Questioning? | SAD | DIXIE | Echoes | Something found | A wise fool | Early October |

One-star community

A noticed man on a long rusty cold bench
Hidden behind a mask as me
He on the right, I sit down on the farest left
Its late morning in the fall
Catched the same train
Walked the same paths
As I saw his face, his eyes when he felt his hackles raising
I looked directly into a grown man's unrest
A bold 18 year old behind him
- He was off-color
Suddenly he found himself climbing the stairs a...

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#anxiety#fear#masks #feelings#mind#society


I enjoy the good things of life

so let us pray

grant us an extra day at least

to join the feast

for what if the good things are fleeting

and flying away?


but if it must stop

a new tomorrow

an old normal

may bring us rushing back

to cry over many tears


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Also by ray pool:



entry picture

The sea could do this in its sleep, 
rewrite history with each wave, but keep 
its darkest secrets from us, those which run too deep. 

We stand alone among the rock pools 
watching the waves break afresh, script and scroll 
spread out across the sand, which is turning a shade of purple 

as the evening makes its first advance 
through the marram grass, spitting the difference 
with each...

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Also by Tony Hill:



Why did this happen?

Why did we go a drought?


Why the hell did you hurt me?

Why the heck didn’t I say ouch?


Why didn’t you just tell me you hated the way I laugh?

Why couldn’t I tell you I hated you because you cheated in the past?


Why did you talk to me like a dumb dog?

Why didn’t I tell you that your pride was too strong?


Why didn’t you say, “ I never ...

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#lettinggo #breakup #why #depression



People ringing up, others’ calling round,

late night visits everybody’s underground.


Negative reactions to positive thought,

‘I could sort it all out if I had a little snort.’


Go out for drink and have a little chat,

Soon the conversation turns to this and that.


Talking total nonsense, what’s it reall...

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Also by trevor homer:



Human Rights laws are now a distant memory 
If ancestors can hear I’m sure they’re screaming “tragedy”
Just like trees communicate and give aid to the weak
Our aura interacts without needing to speak 
Our immune systems talk without you needing to like me 
& establishment knew this only happens when you’re near me.
We need our vitamin D and all the germs and bacteria 
To build up our defenc...

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HumanityIndustrial Revolutioninjusticejusticepoetic ranttruth

Crumbs from the table

From birth to 53

I was told work set you free

To earn those choices

A house and a car

The girl of my dreams

A pension to stretch far

Work hard for the man

Don’t look for a sham

If you do you might see

Them laughing at me


The crumbs they allow

Because you disavow

Your instinct and soul

You’ve scored an own goal

To please the big boss

He doesn’t give...

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Sheer Delight


Love in the flow of life

Universal Well Being

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Also by Kevin T.S. Tan:

Uncharge | French Americana | Animated Space | Community |



During the lockdown, I didn't do much writing and wasn't inspired like some to write about Covid or the lockdown in general, as I figured there would be enough people doing this already.  The poem below is a new and first draft.  It is meant to be messed up like the whole crisis and covers things I have heard said from a whole host of people and media.  Comments please and anything I could add to ...

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Also by David Addington:

There’s a place where I can go and tell my secrets to… (Brian Wilson) | Poems from the international laundertte | Back in action |

2020CoronavirusCovid 19end of the world

Our Nation's Rock Bottom

Our Nation's Rock Bottom

There comes a point in a person’s life where things must change.
They have hurt themselves, and others.
They have lost everything they had.
They have even lost their way.
It’s a point,
 where the failures and the terrible things of their past rise up to haunt them.
They must change or perish.

Because of what they have allowed to happen,
 they find themselves in ...

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PoliticalsocialSpoken Word

Lashing out

entry picture

In a World of people, why so alone?

With a phone that can tell all, connect to all but yet no one I can call

On a hard asphalt top losing its heat from the day...I cry and I pray

Think about all the ways I will have to pay

For lashing out

For drinken till I sleep

For wearing my heart on my sleeve

No one notices me

When I'm not smiling, when I'm saying somethen that they're ...

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Also by VHH:

Am I really broken now |

The middle-aged uneducated white-american male 

we could give them

say, South Dakota 


pave it over 

drop bologna 


they could pretend 

to live off the land 


form tribes 

attempt civilization 


we could wait until 

it freezes over 


metal cassettes

recorded over


send in a fleet 

of lifestyle counselors 


bags of wheat 

albums of photos 


and run them through 


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Also by Robert C Gaulke:

Clarification | I woke up wanting this | Music Work... | The Confidence Trick | My Project | Terrible | The Female Form | God Responds | Carbon Dating 2 | The Burden | What the book wants |

It’s Bleak up North, now

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It’s Bleak up North, now


Not because of the virus

But the business and people’s jobs

That will fall now


Tears 3:

The pubs that will not open their doors again


Tears 3:

The Christmas presents that won’t be bought


Tears 3:

The homelessness that will grow bigger


But not at your door…


The virus is a killer.


But you wouldn’t give ou...

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andy burnhamgreater manchesrermerseyside



wanted to be
a mystery writer
weave web
like a spider

pencil a catch 22
channel Anne Rule
author crime stories

create brilliant

type up
a thriller
on a 
serial killer

drop hints
for discovery
clues for

quote lines
from a criminal mind
cause fear
and spellbind

a goosebump
leaving you
wanting more


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Also by cindylee loucks:


Student Films

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A shimmering of microbes

I see that we're beyond

the plughole tearing down

into pits of dead heroes.

Newspapers eight-thick

secure the walls. Dot one

is made, dot two a frantic

beaming of rectangle

rotoscoped in wax sealed.

I've hidden hard nails

in your sock drawer

then I'll clamber out

of the underground, planting

my boot on a manifesto;

but first you mu...

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Also by David Blake:

India |


A Vagabond's Road

A lonesome vagabond

Whistled away through his life-

Through autumn, summer and the cruel cold.

He live a life, so kind, so benign, 

Myriad pathways he could've chosen.

Pathways adorned with petals of roses,

But a bed of roses would've given him no thrill 

Through summer fever and winter chills.

Today he lies in moth-devoured drapes,

At the edge of the very road that graz...

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Also by Shifa Maqba:

Garlands | Eagle Eye |



A lyric from other days that seems appropriate at this time.


Be grateful for the dark days,

And when they come along

Don't waste your time in worrying

Just how it all went wrong.


Be grateful for the dark days

And when they come in sight

Don't devote time despairing

Whether things wil...

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Also by M.C. Newberry:


Penniless Thoughts

To be this broke,
An incident in which I never imagined for myself. 
No longer can I even afford the air that I breathe. 
I'm limited to this necessary act,
Taking in too much would make me a thief. 
Dramatic imagery? Indeed.
They say a penny for your thoughts
I write a thousand everyday yet my piggy bank sits empty. 
If it were passionate that I was paid by the hour to be, the wealthiest ...

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Also by Jordyn Elizabeth:

Personal Band-aid | My Stubborn Heart |

An open letter to cancer

entry picture

An Open Letter to Cancer


Dear Cancer.

This could be a letter.

But its more a flow

That means much more.

Conscious-less rantings.

To break your cancerous bindings.

I tried to unpack the lidl supermarket bag with the pictures from the service the other day. The same lidl bag that we'd packed so many times for the drive to Leeds. Sentimentality for a brown battered paper Lid...

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Also by I'm not a poet:

All we are saying is give peace a chance 1980 | Lost Love I miss You My Glasgow Girl | The Twenty-seven Club | Sorry Love. | (untitled) |

A prisoner's verse


As long as there’s the sun,

The world will wait for me.

As long as there’s the moon,

I shall one day be free.

Once there are stars to guide me by,

True splendour in the evening sky,

And Venus chooses to appear,

I shall have nothing more to fear.

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Also by Stephen Gospage:

Creating the illusion of flight | An English tale | Better people | Critic's choice | Daleks at Fenchurch Street on a rainy day | Bodies on the battlefield |


entry picture


As a twiggy little boy of 9,

I was so curious

About the bumblebees hovering

Over blood-red roses, flesh-pink roses,

Bushes filled with pale-yellow honeysuckles

That grew in my Grandmother's yard.


So curious, when I reached out to touch one,

That bumblebee stung me with its

Needlelike tail, leaving behind a mark,

Swollen red, painful,

On the caramel ...

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Also by Dee Allen.:


Bumblebeeschildhood memoriesdisappearance of beeshoneysucklesrosesspecies extinction

Love, Hate Relationship

I hate myself, today I hate myself

Yesterday was so different, clarity of mind

Did I ever love or admire myself?

If I did I cannot remember when

Because today I hate myself


I love you, today I love you

Yesterday wasn’t any different, I love you

I’ve always admired you

I cannot remember when I didn’t

Because today, like every day 

you understand the reasons 


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Also by Rick Varden:


Mild depression

I have black sand at the bottom of my soul.

It is not always still. It whirls around sometimes,

Sometimes it creases and makes shapes

(If they mean something, I don’t know)

But then it settles down again.

Dark, harmless, smooth. Each grain tiny.

So what’s the weight?

Other people have rocks at their bottom,

I only have sand; I cannot complain.

Black sand and rather still...

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Be Yourself

Be Yourself

Silence burns because it keeps us sane

enough to listen with expectation

to the quiet music of a lived life's river

and is banished from the traveler's story

by insistent thoughts that echo and rebound

down hushed, clip-clop streets at sunset.


Each noise - thunderclap or whispered love -

is invaded, shamed by black memories

of what we must say but now ca...

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Also by Chris Hubbard:

Vincent Sings the Blues | Into the Storm | The Lamplighter's Hamartia | A Keeper of Secrets |

The unkindness of Covid

Your polo shirt is slightly askew.

Eyeliner you try and hide.

My daughter baby’s prime;

we have fought for this.


You now sit in classrooms,

open windows, warmth drained.

Queue, face mask clad, in corridors

dreaming of seeing faces 


The boy you pass notes to

you are no longer free to kiss

or find the ecstasy in another.

Your childhood is on hold.



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The Deal

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Here's a deal on the table for all you MP's
No pay rise, accept applause if you please.
With fireworks, we can also light up the sky.
Put your face on banners and fly them high.
How would politicians react to such a deal?
Highly insulted, I bet the majority would feel.
With two homes to run and servants to pay.
Such a deal would be ridiculed in every way.
If it's good enough for nurse...

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Also by Mike Bartram:

Puppet Masters | Something Has To Give | Stop Yer Talkin n Start Yer Walkin! ( Mental Health Day Fund Raiser 10/10/2020) | Behind The Mask | Pictures of Liverpool |

Dust and Ash

The men with the bundles of sticks

Came and went and have come again

They’ve come to restore a mythic strength lost,

Through blood, for blood

They’ve come to rebuild a legendary home fallen

Our soil! Our soil! They say

They’ve come to take all

As an offering to their dead god of perfection

Who is to stop them but us?

When is to stop them but now?

Their sticks may brea...

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The Grave Yard

To form an opinion

Is to

set yourself in stone

Those who knew you

will mark your life

upon stone


Stones erected as if they were pushed up through the crust of the earth

Speak of Centuries where the assemblance of family and their dispersements

Hold their mark of transferance 


Some living souls stand in remembrance

With sopped cheeks

Carrying the love that...

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Also by New Shoes:

unfoldment | It made me sad to think it was dead |

Overwinter Under Wing

To long for the tall and rounded neck

Of the swan overwintering.

To wind it round all snug and warm,

Tucked and sheltered under wing.


To see me through to daffodils,

When the long nights up and scarper.

But first the wind will undress trees 

And its bite will get much sharper 


For now the song has dimmed to still

And the sun just won’t stay put.

The air is g...

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Things My Cat Will Never Think

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Man I didn’t get a lot accomplished today.

I’m not moving towards my goals like I wanted too.

You call this fresh?

No you shut the fuck up!

Take Notes…It’s all funny.

Lord grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.

I’d love to but I am married.

I possess the qualities needed to be extremely successful.

I before e except after c

The Buddha was right.


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Also by Michael Triandam:

Talking to the Trees | Famous or Something | Dreams of Chumash Indians |

At the Theatre

Below the shining ceiling spanned above

Inside the tiny loges spread around

A young girl with her mother sitting down

Is waiting the beginning of the play.


She’s wearing a new dress she bought last week

With fancy haircut that she likes so much

And rising from her seat with prying eyes

She wants to see it all, to hear it all.


Two ladies speaking loudly behind her,


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entry picture

Poem 60 of 230:  GREEN-LIGHT

Things go relatively fast in England,
    And traffic lights are no exception -
Re pedestrians, a young fleet-of-foot’s
    Street-crossing time seems the selection.
But if - for the aged - leaders increase times,
    It surely won’t cost them election.

(C) David Franks 2003 - 

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Poetry Film 'The Quality of Mersey'

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The film version of the poetry anthology 'The Quality of Mersey' had its premiere with Wirral Festival of Firsts earlier this month. The film showcases eight poems, beginning at the source and then ending at the river's mouth.

The film is available to watch here:


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The Torture that is Dystonia

Trapped here, in this agony
every moment, is killing me
my spine contorts inside
hurling daggers into my side.
No escape from this cruel hell
my mind locked, within this shell
No longer can I hide
All of my body screams inside.

Excruciating pain flows through me
making it hard, for me to breathe.
The spasms contort my upper limbs
as my brains venemous tune, continues to sing

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cervical dystoniachronic paindystoniahealthill healthpainphysical healthspasmspasmodic torticollisspasms

Untitled – 7

With aims to impress,
And self imposed duress
He compares himself to the rest;
A soul-set compress.

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Also by nightflower:

To My Body-Consciousness (Subconscious Mind) |


A sleek, scintillating surface quivers,

Supple perception spills liquid flickers - 

Faster than a blush – a rough rash rushes, 

Pulsates and flushes: cascading shivers


Her nebulous body shifts fluently,

And oozes – slick as subtle deception

To palpate and manipulate matter:

You submit to her brutal scrutiny 


Suddenly unsafe, amorphous, and nude

As she is, She p...

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Paper Friends

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Leaving seems so hard

Until you actually leave


The peculiar truth is

Leaving feels ludic, orphic, majestic

Leaving the places which seemed to matter

Leaving the paper people I once met

Leaving, forgiving & moving forward


What a trouvaille I encountered

To leave the paper connection

Leaving them as they are, incomplete & rustic

Leaving them in the ocean ...

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#brokenheart #love#commitment#contrails #sky#cry#equality#fake#happiness#happy#happy#poem#hurt#leave#Life #Real#poem#poetry #lit #creative #writing

Divine forgiveness

"I forgive you"; she said.

The mother with a golden heart.

She forgave the killer of her only son.

He was the sunshine of her life.


Those divine words made me

burst out in tears.

She harboured no animosity

towards her son's assassin.


She created no shrine

to lock herself away

to worship her dead son.

She cherishes fond memories

of her son; and, leads a


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Also by Abdul Ahmad:

Will Christmas 2020 happen? |



Your existence is my gravity 

Not being loved by you would be a tragedy

When you left your absence was a cavity

Every time I’m high is when you laugh at me

Sometimes I wonder if you ever really see me

Smokin in the studio got us feeling soul touchin telepathy

Why’s this music so dark but your are eyes so light?

They make me thing of Venus on a clear night

Your eyes are...

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Also by SNW87:

Warnings | Professor Of The Dark Arts | Senses | The Peace Of Pressure | The Black Pearl | Back To The Start | A Sleepy Love | Time To Leave |

Perfect Haiku

Hi, this is an old image poem of mine (the first thing I wrote when I got into writing poetry a few years ago) that came back to me as I woke this morning in the form of a perfect Haiku.

What is a poem?

A murmuration of words

Landing precisely

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Our Covid

All Great Britain has now seen
How dreadful is Covid-19.
While it is hard to make predictions,
We hate all these dismal restrictions.

Has Nottingham reason to be in fear
Now it is placed upon the second tier?
For its people what shall this mean,
As we envisage this depressing scene?

While our politicians fight their wars,
Recall us being long cooped up indoors.
So many people do not ...

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Also by Stuart Vanner:

The Game of Life |

Corona VirusCovid 19FreedomNottinghamStuart Vanner

What Living Is

How do you know what’s old? How do you know if it’s too old? People will ask “can it feel new again?” because it’s human nature. It’s human nature to hold on to what we love, and what made us feel loved. But in the end, when you look back on it, that feeling changes. History is a process. It’s a process of knowing where you’ve been, why you’re holding on to it, and when to let it go. I used to thi...

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A Sunset Dawn

To forecast a no tomorrow

this moment to last forever

as we moonwalk across stars

guiding us to a sunset dawn.

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Also by Nigel Astell:

Masked Up Outside House Bound Inside |

Sharing sunset dawns

Implement in increments

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Life rolls on even when you don't want it to
Trying to find the hidden mechanism of stillness
The thrill is gone, smoked up on the back porch
Holding wicked torch, lighting up lines of houses
Blouses held open to the wind, waiting on rain to send them running
Mumbling through gas station interactions, floorgaze reaction
Gaining traction through inaction, empty rattling boxcar soul
Always di...

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Also by Patrick Kennon:

False floor |

My Truth

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The saying "speak your truth"
Doesn't apply to me.

My truth is the nail in my hand
It's a crown of thorns, mocking
Everything I believe.

Maybe I won't speak unless spoken to
Like a child. 

My truth is nothing compared to
The universe You created, but 
Somehow you still care.

My truth is being swept up in
Your love for me.

Maybe I will speak my truth. 


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I Will Not Bow

I am not broken

I am stronger than you can imagine

I am not giving up

I do not know the meaning of the word

I am no failure

I have come too far to give up

I am my light

Now you can watch me shine

Because life is about taking a risk

Moreover, the risk is what it is all about.

I am not alone

If you do not know what this means

Then I pity you

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Also by Makalapua Pinto:

How Far I've Come | A Mother's Love |

#poetry #motivation #inspirationalinspirational

First Impression

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First Impression 

Uri  El
moving like a warm voice in your white heart 

Uriel are or is
Is it not?
or is et al

I do not doubt the atrocity of the many heavens 
as does our Uriel standing at the gates of Repentance
with a flaming sword and a single Name
a hero to saints and psychics alike
and even some bloodletting angels
end up sorrier than you’ve ever ...

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Also by Kealan Coady:

There Will Come A Day | A Sweet little poem on happiness |

Unseen Entities

While 'er Indoors chatted merrily

to Captain Mainwaring's wife

Abigail threw a party

and Laurence lost his life

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Also by Brian Maryon:

G'nasher | We've got the builders in |


And all this time,

I dream about you.

do you ever stop,

and think of me too?

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It´s not the night
that´s the enemy
not the darkness
not the blackness
not the silence
they don´t harm
they don´t judge

The night just levels
just hides
just calms
just accepts
it´s the day that expects
it´s the day that compares
that blinds
that screams
that yells
that argues
that divides

In the night all is still
all is black
and all is well



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What's the bloody matter with us?

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Black lives matter,

White lives matter,

All lives matter.

Alright, alright.

All right.

Come with me, let me take you to the races.

Here’s the line-up…a Black CEO and an Asian MP,

a Chinese chef and a White surgeon.

Or is it a White waiter and an Asian dentist?

Did you say Arab investor and African minister?

Does it matter that the Afro-Caribbean footballer


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The changing of times come

Many are aware, yet few are prepared

The transitioning from one state to another

The falling away and new birth witnessed

Of harvests and sowing

Of building up and tearing down

Of holding up and pruning some


Inevitable in all their ways

Slightly different with every year

The colours though appearing the same, uniquely chan...

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Two pairs of magpies strut and preen

across the greened-up garden lawn

behind the house we bought a few months back.

I note once more the lack of birdlife here –

unlike the cosmopolitan crowds that would

serenade us each day from every bough,

loud enough to shake and wake all lovers of

calypso sung and hung on high,

and thos...

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To Have Loved

Shimmering lights dance in her eyes

Shimmering lights cannot dispel

Like the fire inside my soul

A cold darkness that grasps at my soul

A velvet touch cannot disguise

Persistent beeps, and sanitised smells

Two hearts that yearn to be whole

Infesting a heart that I stole


Beneath the fabric of power and love

Unfaltering floors with a sinister gleam

Sensations fulfi...

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Also by Gary Cuming:

You |


October 2020 Collage Poem – Blue Guitar

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Scribbles for reality spill out of her baggage
We’re heading for the rocks, sirens the Lighthouse -
Flashing black and white
Trump woke at the top of Mumbles Lighthouse to hear
Alan Minter - I've been waiting for you....

Plug me in you know you want to
Carrying our dreams across oceans telling each other so
The music was broken that day, in Morecambe, 
As the pianist lay in her death bed...

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blue guitarHaglerMinterOctober Collage Poem

Ask Me.

Ask me if I had enough.

2020 is or was a bluff 

for the destruction of what I thought I had

building all the way up.

if the present isn’t linear 

then why can’t i stop looking up?

if the past does not exist

why does it always creep up?

I, once a Quantanium sprayed ora

that now seems to only have collected dust.

So please, I beg you.

Ask me if I had enough.



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love*sad*pain*memorypain.poetrypoetsreal life

where is my mind

You stuck your fingers up me and didn’t even know my name

You grabbed my ass and blamed it on the drink in your hand

You kissed my neck and pulled me into you

I was yours for the night---that one night.


I was too drunk and you knew. Yet you kept going

You kept going down on me further and further.

My bra somehow came off and you began to suck

I didn’t know what was going ...

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collegedepressionhateloverapesexual abuse

A Strange Repetition

I have been here before,

and yet it is a strange repetition:

this not going out;

this hording of food and handwash.

And then there are some familiar foes.

No use insisting on social distancing,

I am already caught betwixt twin sisters:

Vigilance and Anxiety.


Spanish Flu? Or Swine Flu?

Please, God, not Ebola?

No, none of the above.

This pandemic provision,


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childhood traumaLife and DeathPandemicshamesocial distancing


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We live in a time of cosmic bifurcation, we live in a time of unprecedented existential threats to life on Earth, including climate change, deforestation, food insecurity, and wildlife numbers in free fall, human overpopulation. the society is in turmoil. There is more and more violence. There’s more and more conflict. We are acting as if we are unconne...

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Very little did I know

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Little did I know, that in my deepest grieve

I’ll find His profound peace and feel of relieve

Little did I know, that in my darkest thoughts

I’ll find His brightest light reflecting from the cross 

Little did I know, that in my sudden loss 

I still could trust that I’ll see Him across 

Very little did I know,

While I was drowning in the ocean of fear

That He'd carry me to a...

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Also by Raquel Lacayo:

In honor of -World Mental Health Day- | The Sunset- it's the keeper for every secret- |

Marooned again

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The sun leaks out of the grey cloud ceiling spilling all over my body. Golden light bathes my cells.
Blanketed by solar rays I gain a new perspective on my surroundings; colours are deeper, fruit ripe. The world beyond my front door suddenly separated only be a wooden plank. 

But as quickly as it came, the curtains above me shut with swift determination. Once again my perspective shifts. 

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I do not exist

Neither bound nor found

In memory or actions

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To Eat Or Not To Eat

I think of you way more than I probably should 

I wish so much now that I somehow could

Turn back the hands of time, start again- rewind

Pull back the impulse, erase the hunger

Let logic and level headedness put my eagerness asunder 

The state of being to which I now aspire

Is to be free of this want, all this desire

The thrill of longing,  not so thrilling anymore 

My hear...

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Also by Flavia Gordon:

Once Lost is Lost Forever |


Was that a Nightmare or dream?

Neighbour's nightmare is your dream,
while yours nightmare is the neighbour's dream. 

Neighbour's misfortune you desire as a blessing, 

the neighbour desired for everything, what is yours misfortune.

How strange it is, you neglected the light, 
which was desired by others. 

Making me question for what you cribbed, 
was that actually a nightmare or the dream? 


All poems are c...

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