Poetry Blogs (2021)

Popular last 30 days


​​​​​​Heathers above roof

metals are covering soil, 

unorthodox way of living 

bereft of proof.

Mendacity from preachers

masqueraders evincing sagacity 

intrigues the addled nature 

to tame the creatures. 


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Also by Nazia Khan:

Cordial cup of tea ☕ | Outset of the earth |

Mother's Day Display

Mother’s Day is fast approaching 
The Flower Bank are celebrating in town
Fabric grown by Mother Nature 
A fitted bark bodice on a leafy gown

Layers of entwined stem ribbons
Weave a material made from evergreen
Beautifully arranged and displayed
Creating this magical Mother’s Day scene

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Also by julie callaghan:

Another Lockdown Sunday | Some Days I Have A Tale To Tell | Daily Lesson In Maths | Good Morning | Everything Will Be Alright (Version 2) | Everything Will Be Alright | St David's Day |

Long Count


Oh, what troubles you, old man,
so alone and poorly aging?
Your skin withers on your face,
without your friends engaging.


Oh, what ails you, curmudgeon,
So lost and cursed in love?
Your light-staff now is hanging limp
and cannot rise above.


I see life’s pain-map in your frown,
and teeth becoming few,
rings are round about your eyes,
dark, without a clue.



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Also by Brian Hodgkinson Jr.:

Sifting Sands | Before My eYes | Cherished Moon | My Arse Poetical | This Instant | Regrets | It Says 4:21 | Tuning In | Music Street Mob | March 4th | Baggy Time | River Ducks | After Gaze | Sand Castles | Rendezvous | Heaven Can Wait | Gripped | Hodgkinson's Uncommon Sense Maxims | He Ain't Heavy |

aging is not for wimps

4th Floor




It’s hot today 

People play artificial games

Sunbathing in the plastic Sun

The screen is melting 

as they click along


Everyone’s thirsty

They can't quench their thirst 

despite drinking 

All they want is more and more

What are they needing


And somewhere down the road

It’s raining on the 4tn floor

The water flows down the windows

The r...

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Also by A Girl:

What if... | A Chair | Statue | The Ring | Blood |

Meghan and Harry

Meghan and Harry


So, Meghan and Harry appeared on the unelected

queen of America´s, Oprah, last night.

Banality swam in a sea of phoney weeping.

Harry, the prince, when not feeding, the chickens

had to listen to them and nodding his head.

He cut a pathetic figure.

The gutter press goes after all young royals coloured

or not, Harry´s mother was white as the driven snow


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Also by jan oskar hansen:

new ideology | The Mall | a bridge over Entre-os-Rios | the royal sport | the story of an entry | a writers life | the slaughter | the pursuit |

Shopping with Grandma

Marie was seven and she was 3 feet tall. 

She skipped as she walked with her grandma through the mall. 

Grandma’s hand was lined with wrinkles, dark blue veins, and soft as silk.

Time had not yet appeared on Marie’s, for hers was small and pale as milk. 

They walked past the glass walls, eyeing every sparkly dress and pair of shoes. 

They were looking for the perfect set. There was ...

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Also by Rebel Elaine:

Birthday Fishing Trip | High | Ghosting | The Circle of Love | Mermaid Tale | Damaging Existence |

Is it a problem?

I guess I’ll give in,
A flow of stream,
The non-sensical air.

Because there lays,
Among the brush,
Blood in the air.

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Also by Alita Moore:

Me |

As Yet Untold

The story of my life is not mine to tell,
For it does not matter
What I thought that I might be
And how can I remember
With total accuracy
Anything from the past?

The story of my life is not mine to tell,
For I am so wound around
Other people's lives
And how have I the right
To expose them to the light
And to the world?

The story of my life is not mine to tell,
For it hasn't ended

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Also by Aviva Rifka Bhandari:

Alphabet Soup | Seasonal | Poetry Junction | Invest In Posterity | A War To Be Won | Other Things To Smile About | I'm A Believer |

all that I ammeditation


Born in a city in the north west of the map
A city with the friendliest football devide
A place of magic on Merseyside

I was raised here
Praised here
Put down here
Gave birth here
Forever loved here
Forever inlove with here

Home of the Beatles
Cathedrals with steaples
The finest of peoples

Culture and art were ever you look
A helping hand if ever you're stuck

Our city of the best

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Also by Sarah Louise mcnee:


Liverpool poetryLiverpool PoetsMerseyside poetsscouse poem

Is it me, or am I now living in a Rumplestiltskin world?

For me,

nothing bites!! anymore

I mean, really bites!!!


everything about anything

that used to move, me

remains as though preferring to hesitate indefinitely,


the biting cause for an omg!! or a jaw drop

has been seemingly dulled

but for how long?


My desire for excitement

remains unbitten, unperforated 

there is no letting of pleasure blood!!



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Also by Rose Casserley:

Crumbled pomposity | WW1. My brave ( fibbing about his age to enlist ) Great Grandfather. | Literary hoard |

Back to School

As we start to relax the lockdown rules,
All children now return to school.
While most parents welcome this change,
To some children this may seem strange.

While older children must wear a mask,
To social distance must be quite a task.
And as for safety much has been invested,
Twice a week they'll be Covid tested.

Some may like school if they are smart,
And some are glad sports and cl...

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Covid- 19SchoolStuart Vanner

The First Stirrings of Spring


When the darkest days of winter

Draw grudgingly to a close

When snows and frosts disperse

Warmth spreads slowly through the earth

Woodlands and hedgerows awaken

From the deepest of slumbers


Beneath a heavy cloak of

Decaying late autumn leaves

New life begins to stir

Seeds move in the now fertile soil

Dark brown wrinkled foliage

Turns away from the sun


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Absolute Zero

The girl who iced her emotions. 

Her physical and mental being out of motion. 


The coldness within her grew, 

induced by solitude and failure.


Causing sadness to flow through her veins, thus only negativity remained. 


As her tears fell like snow, weathered by disappointment. 


Because everything she once cared for let her down, and people wonder why she carries...

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Also by Your Royal Poetess:

Hold ya head | The Algea | Imago Dei | Volume | Untitled | PTSD |


Cash in hand

If you pay me,

I’ll say daylight is black,

I’ll say the sun is blue,

The moon’s held up with glue.

If you pay me.


If you pay me,

I’ll say the square is round,

Your friend fell through a crack,

The world is safe and sound.

If you pay me.


If you pay me,

I’ll give you the nod,

Get you in the squad,

Make room up on the stack.

If you pay me.



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Realization later

Realization later

Sunday,7th March 2021


It becomes too late

to realize the importance of life's gate,

where will it lead?

if we fail to read the mission


the first thing we concentrate

on life's security and state

in no unclear terms

and turn on financial stability


our whole life is spent on amasses the wealth

this causes deterioration of health


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Also by Jadia4708au:

Peace-Our priority | Noor(light) | Escape route-Spirituality | Safe distance | Love self | Play neutrally | In an idle state | The good explanation | Love in the eyes | Women power | Philosophy-Its adoption | Move forward | Age declines | Our role | Life is wild horse | He is awake | Displeasure from | Power makes |


Squeaky Shoes


My wife has squeaky shoes

they make an awful sound

as she walks around the house

squeak squawk squeak squawk

the most annoying sound

they are athletic shoes

and she wears them mostly for walking

as a result, she walks alone

even the dog refuses to go along

that squeak squawk irritates his ears

but the one good thing about those shoes is

those squeaks tell me


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Also by d.knape:


A ghostly experience

"My wife was incredible in every single way,

A different talent emerged every married day.

One night on coming home I'd lost our key,

"Don't worry,"she said,"leave it all up to me ."

She walked through the unopened door and picked up the post,

It was then I discovered I'd married a ghost !"

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Also by hugh:

"Doctor please will you give me a kiss ?" | Robbery, due to a lack of police presence | The police are searching for a killer | "£10,000 pound reward if you find my dog." | Fully recovered | A bill shock at the dentist |

Sunday, March 7, 2021 12:33 AM

In this oversized jacket 

I hold a feast of burdens.

Yet, the pockets are so large

they barely bulge.

Maybe they sink a little

under the weight of it all,

but the fabric, old and worn,

bears the burden placed upon it.


The tight, woven synthetic polyester

has held together for so long

with unrelenting strength.

Staying intact just enough

to remain a comforta...

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The end of me

Wonder shining in my eyes
like I'm three years old again,
I will rise, like today,
Talk to children, sometimes.

The sky - the real sky - 
Shall shelter and storm the earth, still;
Black soil shall breed many satans, still.
Azure clouds, from which no rain falls, 
Shall mass on far-horizons, threateningly.

Large drops of rain shall fall, freezing into ice;
Angels shall lie about thei...

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Also by John E Marks:

Loss has no end |

Beauty is a fickle beast.

Where has it gone to, I'd like to know?

No precipitous flight, but a gradual perishing.

But then I see the young girls flirting  in the park

who must have magically stolen it away.


Chestnut hair, lapislazuli eyes, petal skin,

dècolletè with pomegranate breasts,

hourglass waist, now just a waste,

once able to pick and choose.


So you luscious lasses, heed me I beg.


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Galaxy 3

Your face changed so rapidly

its like the seeds who were planted a long time ago

breaking through the strategy of being reincarnated

so many times before

Gone were the blinds that blocked the moment of truth

you once lived for

Ancient beings once roamed through our claimed spaces

Laughing at us for being so childish in our search

Kids who dont know what the hell it is all a...

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Also by Rudyard Kooistra:

The human race. | Rage hard. | Blind for a night. | Book of the death/chapter ending. | No title for a son. | No title is good enough. |

someone's forgotten cottage

someone’s forgotten cottage



walking in the woods

I discovered

an old deserted cottage


weeds and thicket grew all around

the windows were gone

old curtains blew in the

breeze seeming to enjoy their

almost freedom


old chairs sitting in front

of the cottage wasting away

in the rain sun and snow


if I look hard enough might

I get a glimpse...

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Also by Clyde McCulley:

woods filled with snow |


Lament For A Constant Companion

Everyone knows the difference
between prose and poetry
is the difference between
words and song.
I say it's the difference between 
birds and the Moon.

Birds can but follows their own agenda
meaning neither good nor ill.
The mysterious Moon will lift the tides
we catalogue as though we know-
until overwhelmed by the deep.

I fear those who support megatonnes of rock,
their Moon of f...

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Also by Adam Whitworth:

Apple Tree | The Land |


Poem 23 of 230:  ABOVE EVEREST

When flying from Nepal to Thailand,
    I was given a “good-side” seat;
And, as I looked out the plane window,
    The view I saw was really neat.

For breaking through a thick sheet of cloud
    Were the high Himalayan peaks;
And, rising the highest of them all,
    Mount Everest - heaven bespeaks!

(C) David Franks 2003 - https://walkaboutsverse.blogspot.com

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Being arrogant is the worst behaviour

It is not an ideal quality for saviour

Thinking you are always right and the best

Maybe it is time to take a real test


Why behave unpleasantly towards others?

Trying to shove people under covers

It is a sign of losing contact with the reality

Because you seem to be living in your own fantasy


Having a foolish pride and feeling ...

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C'est la guerre?

They plucked the feathers

Of the white dove,

Smothered them in tar,

Took pliers to its nails, 

Scissors to its tongue;


Then cried when creation 

Eerily laughed back...

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Also by Holden Moncrieff:

Travel Brochure | Catastrophizing 101 |

Set Your Sights then go for The Kill

Slimline tonic

bronze tan

workout body

lover's confrontation

brazen outburst

personal take

getting involved

outrageous bitching

controversial matching



rival sorted

clear path

killer move

crazy flirting

boundaries broken

who's watching?

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Also by Nigel Astell:

Can't Put It Down | Whiter Than White |

island of promiscuity down under


I’ve never been the sort of bloke that needs to end up as the hero in one of my own stories.  Rather, I quite enjoy being “done up like a kipper” as they say.

Take these two examples.

Some years ago I had the pretentious urge to buy a fob watch for myself.  I saw one on Bawtry Market and after examining it thoughtfully and with an entirely unwarranted professional mien, told the stallholder ...

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Also by John Coopey:



As much as I love mystery

It's how you make a galaxy

But I think I'll hit the road

Cause something is about to implode!!!!!

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Also by Kevin T.S. Tan:

Let's lay aside our weapons | Stars | The Suffering Is Over | Constellation | Sahasrara | Nothing |



no ruin can come to me

my status is fully secure

parameters are normal

air-supply made secure


warm feelings suffusing

my body and its pain

voices echo far away

fever roasts my brain


images memories of old

before me life's flashing

re-living old times amid

a future thats crashing


all I have is in thoughts

vegetable activity level

limbs still ...

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Also by simon lucan:

Switching Off | His New Partner | Amazed |


When I think I know you can see me


So I am imagined -

as Angel González said -

being reflected 

inside your brain cells.

A circuit of fibres

that sees me standing 

‘within’ your thinking:

briefly flickering.

Momentarily there 

inside you like some son 

waiting to be born 

and floating oblivious.

Warmed by your heart

perhaps lighting up 

the deep sea fishing nets

which are the mind.


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Just a corner away

The proton energy pills aren’t working today

Little less pep in my step

But knowing you are only the next corner away

I glide through my day, sliding with happiness


Feeling old and cold

Never gets a grip

When I feel you near

A soft embrace

A whisper in my ear


Soothing calm of you

overwhelms all anxiety

you bring me back in the sweetest way


Stay wi...

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Footprint (A New Haiku)


The sound of laughter

is carried in the soft breeze

a footprint in time.

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My name is Silence

I used to range unchallenged on this hill

keeping mankind under my surveillance.

I watched as you discovered

the wonder of the wheel


and ways to traffic goods along the rivers.

You harnessed blameless power from water mills

but we became estranged.

My name is Silence.


Once I was your day-to-day companion:

the backing to your birdsong at the daybreak

and as t...

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airportclimate changeleeds bradford airport expansion


Have you ever had that feeling that you’re living life in limbo,

that nothing much has happened since you finished work for Chrimbo?

The world has passed you by while everybody’s stuck in lockdown,

and waiting till these artificial barriers are knocked down.


Have you ever had that feeling that you’re living life in limbo,

while your aged mother’s watching, standing there with a...

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When dealing with issues in your family

It's easy to get overrun

Seems a cinch to make a lot of people angry

Then it is to please everyone

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Something's Creeping...

Something comes creeping

Through the dark night

I look from my window

But it's just out of sight!


Something comes knocking

Knocking at my door

I slowly turn the handle

But, it's there no more!


Something comes crawling

Crawling so slow

Shall I turn to look?

I no longer know!


Something is breathing

Under my bed!

I dare not look

'case it loo...

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Also by Stephen W Atkinson:

Little Dickie's Poo-Pot |

Scary mary


I've written all the words I wish to impress,

thought every thought on the way.

But still I join the poetry express -

where it'll end up is anyone's guess

and tomorrow's a brand new day. 

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There's something about recycling

That provides a rich reward;

Washing out those bottles and tins

And slicing up cardboard.

Peeling off the plastic bag

From its council-issue provision

And filling it with content

That demands domestic precision.

Sometimes one - or two tied  together

Get carried down to the street

To wait like weekly offerings

To the detritus deity ...

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The devil pray for the light again
He was assumed by rage when it did not beckon
His fears dried up like dust the world crumbled around him
We found him bleeding upon his grace

Still, he was petrified from his actions
The man inside realized he was flawed
What a fate worse than death
Anxiety misled me with a doubt

The devil inside is killing us
So pray to Angels all you like
You forg...

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Also by Damon Blackery:

Breathing | Going Back Home |






Dear death, look at him like hump

But mind you,

You can’t take the nook out from his hook,

Oh my book is in my bag resting in its pillow of reading

Taking studies like a forbidden fruit which I threw at the roof top.

But the root of the guff has formed a golden name called Ruth…


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Spirit lead the way ,

I'm ready to swim into the depths of the bay ,

And cast my play ,

Let me not be like Ray .

I have a price to pay .

I am ready .


In the darkest hours you showed me light ,

In the sorrow times you gave me strength .

Into me you came unaware,

Yet I'm ready .

No fears shall mess my destiny .

Nor shears to stop me .

Spirit ,take me deep int...

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Macedonian sky

I pass by someone else’s rainbows
I move my soul
in a small suitcase
and forget about all the stones
that came
from those who doubt
that I arrange the cubes correctly
in this life game.
I dream under an alien sky
and I hear unknown voices
while the stars
they speak to me in Macedonian.

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Also by Sanja Atanasovska:

Passion flake | All the Lights of the World |

The Closest I'll Ever Get To A Love Poem

I couldn't help but notice when we met the other day

You're absolutely horrible and vile in every way,

I cannot think of anyone less likeable than you,

But no one else will have me, so I guess you'll have to do.

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In the valley of Indus, green flowers blooming, ever consuming
Hostilities brewing, no undoing the doing, bones entombing
Blood stewing in streets, red stained white sheets
Cannons from fleets, artillery fills beats backwards
The unheards, cut words, pills scored on billboards
Falling on our own swords, invoking false lords
Burning all the bridged boards, diving in after trellis
The lie is ...

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The Train Won't Wait


The Train Won't Wait


The train won't wait in the station,

Its four-faced clocks command

While I clatter past startled travellers

Threadbare luggage in hand.


I watch as a carriage begins to slide

And my race is almost run; oh

The Devil's work without a doubt,

A scalding in place of fun.


The scene dissolves in disorder,

The station crowd's undecided;


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I may not know,
Owning triumph by betrayal
But I know I emerge triumphant,
whenever I am myself and not someone else. 
I know I emerge triumphant, when I don't assassinate my principles for the triumph of my greed. 
And that I emerge triumphant, when I walk my way myself, with my wholesome faith in my creator, rather than expecting support from a mortal being.

It is largely true, that the ...

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consciencegood viewstriumph

Along the avenue

                      Along    The    Avenue           GLA             2021-03-04


            Can you see the picture in full view, to get from A to B from chapter two.                                                     Watch the signs ahead, don’t get led into the blue, or give up, keep on going when you do.

      Regret and sorrow follow you, revisiting old memories, to suffer once a...

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Also by Grant Aspinall:

One wish too far |

The Life of a Cenobite

The Life of a Cenobite


I was called to the monastic life

to a place of meditation and contemplation

The way out of this mortal coil to true inner freedom

Far from the material and into the spiritual realm

I had no one to counsel my wandering soul

lost, I became caught up in youthful desires

I had conciously waylaid myself

The world about me I began to discover anew


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