Poetry Blogs (2020, community)
Nicola Beckett on The Wisdom of Cats (2 hours ago)
We live our lives together
Breathing the same air
Yet never help each other
It makes life hard to bear.
So much could be made better
In just a little time
And time could last forever
If we just use it right.
Saturday 26th December 2020 10:40 am
Brothers of sand
Holding signs, I am a man
Daughters of dust
Holding signs life in her gut
Fathers of the past
Never thought how long this would last
Mothers of the movement
Never thought so many forget their commitments.
Brothers of man
Fictional to control and command
Daughters of woman
Subjected to the desire of lust
Fathers of the future
Thursday 10th September 2020 5:56 pm
in acute distress is where I was
firing flares or else lighting fires
engraving SOS on the sandy beach
for want of any telegraph wires
I watched for sails on the horizon
every day I searched the skies
I kept a careful log of my every day,
alone, its amazing how time flies
I quickly got sick of coconuts
fish all began to taste the same
goats and chickens are ...
Wednesday 26th August 2020 10:58 am
Our home, a pale blue dot in the vastness of universe's untouched beauty, a tiny, spherical world, afloat in a immensity of space and time. Here for a moment, and then we're leaving for the eternity. In the school of mortality we learn to acrobat over the abyss.
Tuesday 9th June 2020 11:14 am
Untouched but not Unfelt
Spent years like a husk
now life is kindling again,
purifying from pain
and pleasantly plentiful
The cage of the State
for I traversed the labyrinth of my own mind
So I shall recognise shackles
as a concept,
but be mindful of surrendering control.
Isolate from crowds but not from feelings,
not from unde...
Sunday 22nd March 2020 9:08 pm
my mind’s hazy.
Penned in like chicken
that never lays...
and a merging of powers.
When did we surrender control of the supply chain?
I hear vegans got beef
but you can’t get the show on an empty road.
Do we even know where our food is grown?
Butcher, cheesemonger, greengrocer, and farmer...
were stripped from our com...
Thursday 19th March 2020 5:11 pm
Being a woman is not simply belonging to a certain demographic. It is a privilege not to be taken lightly.Being a woman is being an indestructible soldier in a Historic Movement of Epic proportions. Flourishing in the knowledge that you are a part of something so special is utterly gratifying and nothing short of a miracle. An elite member of a Universal Society comprised of The Global Community a...
Saturday 12th August 2017 7:07 pm
WORK DAY ENDS
The work day leaves around me.
I do not share the rush to cars or beers or childcare pickup.
I do not need to slice the everyday’s hot cord
that doesn’t fuel my energy, my need
to prove I can - mostly to myself.
I let the walker-talkers move
somewhat shy of stampede down halls
too long for anything but gale-strong drafts,
up hills too steep for anything but...
Friday 21st November 2014 1:07 am
Fields Of Carbon And Blood (1984)
You praised as they died in their dugouts
for a cause proclaimed honest and true.
No mention of cowards or traitors -
a justified war to see through.
Now you mock the bravest of fighters
who live to bring coal from the earth.
Not bully-boyed in to your armies -
but pushed down the pits after birth.
They ask for no...
Monday 8th April 2013 6:54 pm
When we think about the freedoms
our ancestors thought for,
the cracking of the great enigma.
Futile hopes soaked in apple-core tears
crashing like a faulty application.
Remember, that's so gay.
When you websling like Spidey
page to page.
From songs on YouTube,
to memes about Derp...
remember his hurt.
Remember, that's so gay.
Thursday 10th January 2013 8:57 pm
By its nature writing is for the most part a solitary business which is why sites like WOL are great to keep in touch, share ideas, post poetry etc.
For this reason I've started a *new* community over at Google +. You may love or hate social media and personally I detest the whole Facebook thing but I have fund that the new...
Wednesday 2nd January 2013 7:06 pm
They say home is where the heart is
and my heart is where the art lives.
So where is my home?
Art lives within us all
and begins an internal/external exchange...
like humanity to trees.
We stop, relax, breathe
So where is my home?
First Contact was my spiritual home
gave meat and marrow to
Tuesday 8th November 2011 11:33 pm
Artist supporting Artist
Not under the radar
But above it.
Artist supporting artist
Paintings on the wall
Not hanging by a thread
Not hung at all
But painted onto it.
The wall being the backdrop
On which the artisan paints
The back ground
For every artist’s palette.
Lines and hills
Dips and gullies
Monday 23rd November 2009 4:42 pm