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Crack of dawn Sunday mornings

my brother and I would accompany our dad

pushing a home-made wheelbarrow

to a horses field a mile away

to 'steal' horse manure

which I would imagine the horse's owner

in retrospect was glad to see the back of.


I have lived with this crime on my conscience for sixty years and am relieved to have finally come clean. 

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Also by Telboy:

NOT ANY MORE | Going Uptown |

The End of Trust

When I walk beside you, please, hold my hand

I don’t expect you to understand it all

But I hope … you might try to break my fall

You might reach out

You might even try to connect

Place your feet close, to where I stand


Your disconnect is wearing

A resistance to sharing leaves me wondering

Is this it?

Did I imagine you – was it real?

Digging deep, on repeat

Is ...

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Also by Clare:

Splish, Splash! | Mother | Circumspect | No rules | What is Freedom? | First Date | One Night Stand | French Doubles |

Catastrophe: the banality of evil

The bustling grey, ironically named, tie
of the guard was frayed because dried
in front of a roaring fire
currently His-story carves times into lines
segments ignored run free; like the Shoah
aboard a train, or a drop-dead brash Polish gate.

In the distance candles
flame and gutter
the future stands back to front
like candles lit in a death camp -
silver, tepid, deadly ca...

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Also by John E Marks:

Hanging by a thread | regret | visit | Horatio Mosley Moule, committed suicide, Cambridge, 1873 | Free speech | Ruin | A WITHERING | Gorffwysfa | The season of the witch | Burst the Bounds | This land is my mother. | Meet me on the Edge | A Sonnet for May | The Furies | (untitled) | Only connect | Putin's nursery rhyme | Blue is green | All gone by | Last things | The glory of the May | A la Recherche du Temps Perdu |

Our Garden Right Now

The light grey clouds are descending
like a natural roller blind 
Blocking our familiar view 
fields and fells lie hidden behind   

Dampening down my mood today 
the May drizzle constantly falls
Globules form in lush Hosta leaves
and slowly drip from dry stone walls

The garden a green potpourri
verdant shades and hues please the eyes 
A stark contrast to the backdrop
of the pillowy ...

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Also by julie callaghan:

Chuffed To Bits | Cup Of Tea | Mud (Ten line challenge) | Seaside Stroll | Sahara Safari Day Two | Sahara Safari Day One | Spaceman Aims For The Stars | Travel Stress | Canadian Woodland | The Memorial (Repost) | On The Subject Of Freedom (Not A Poem) | Daisy Daisy | Whelprigg House | Storybook Sunrise | Freedom (Challenge) | Rhododendron | Eerie Mist | May Time | Mr & Mrs Smith | Magnificent In Stature |

waterside walk


after lap

after lap


is the way the wind moved

loch waters go

varying in size and strength


each one 

folding over and

drowning the one in front


that floating debris mass

of twigs and leaves is all that remains

of a once put together home

by the two nest building swans


theres nothing the little observant girl

can or wants to do


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Also by Bethany Sallis:

automotive death in slow motion | oh for a second chance! | faded sleb' ( i.e. Favershamesque ) | congregational blame cleansings? yeah right! | Fathers gun mouth | considering reincarnation |


It's sympathy not hatred

One should have for others

Specially they who are spiritually sick

For more than dislike they are in need of prayers


Sickness grows deep and brown 

ill feelings begets hatred 

Envy breeds sickness traits

Keeping a clean heart makes all the difference 


You can never clean things with water unclean

In the same way vindictive behaviour can...

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Also by N.B:

*goodluck | *remember | *wandering | *obsolete |


Just leave me alone and let me find peace
I don't want to hurt
I don't want to weep
Who’s are the voices inside my head?
Why do they hate me? 
What have I said?
Why let them get to me?
What do I say?
Why can’t I make them all just go away?
Why do I feel I have to paint on a smile?
Why can’t I just be ‘me’ for a while?
These are the questions I’m asking each day
The voices, the demons I...

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Also by curiousdud3:

Demons in the Woods (10 line challenge) | Chains of Capture | Charade |


WHO ARE THE LUCKY PEOPLE? (written in 2001)

I was delighted to read of the acknowledgement received by Julie Callaghan to her commendable

effort to communicate her feelings to Her Majesty The Queen for this Platinum Jubilee Year and 

how it brought back a memory of my own effort when The Queen Mother endured the need for  

an opreation and a donor's blood very late in her long life over twenty years ago.  Here it is.


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Also by M.C. Newberry:


Burnt feelings

Before the night ends and the day Is done

The water recedes in the background 

There are words unsaid and emotions unshared

I wish these could be conveyed when it was time 

The sun has risen, the darkness retreats 

Few scribbles on the papers to read and wipe


Within this heart of mine, a little too big yet it's small 

There're feelings trapped waiting to be expressed


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Also by Moonlight: | Victorious | Victim ain't a convict | Waiting | What's meant to be will chase you till you receive | Glad tidings | Blessed!! |

A Calling

The lads have escaped league 1 at last! 😁 A little poem I did pre game.


Can you hear them?


The shipbuilder's hammer

The picks upon the seams

Drifting up from glories past

Still harbouring foretold dreams 


The whispering of legends

Still bleeding red n white 

The time is here, the time is now

Time to put things right!


The Roker Roar still lingers


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Also by Stephen W Atkinson:

Winter Song (10 line challenge) | Her Words | All Fall Down... | Amistad | I Wonder If... | Idle | My Lonely Love |


We all live in the past...

The present flows rapidly behind me, as hard as I try

To hold a precious moment in my tremulous hand.

It slips. It’s gone; I watch that golden instant slide away

In the rear-view mirror of my chequered history,

Adding to all the endless acres of slurry and mud.


Our past; the opaque, unfathomable morass

Of what once happened, and can never happen again.

All the happiness, ...

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Also by John Botterill:

Stuck in the Mud | Woodland Sanctuary | The Scan | #freedom |


Frenemy of the State

I build my empire on rancour

My thoughts became so muddy

This backwater, this quagmire

I'm not xenophobic, it's just not foreign what I admire

You're my friend but I don't call you

Don't bother, I changed my number in advance

You see I would come to you at your worst

Sacrifice my health and wellbeing

To make you feel a little bit better

You're a backtalking, backstabbing...

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Also by Kevin Tan:

Mother of Mummies | Personal Confessions (1) | From A to Privet | Like an Echidna | The Sparrow | Time for digestion | I'M LETTING SORROW GO | You bring me joy, my lover | Little Rose | Internet communities for free | My non-addictions (1) | The future |

A baby's face

You are not special,
Not loved,
Not painfully gifted,
You hang the leopard,
Of outstretched hand,
And spot on your breath,
Unheard of,
The manner in which it henceforth whrithes in decay,
The smell of the foul blood in vacant memories,
Vinear and salvation,
Hospital and surgeons,
We which left behind,
Have a look in the mirror,
A memory fleeting,
Like a child in the air,
Never danci...

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Also by Alita Moore:

Shivers |

The Place

Nothing touches me,

that connection I ache for

never more than fleeting

never close.

Always something there – stopping it.


It's them?

It’s me?

It’s something..


Dark, insecure, stubborn.

                Oh, so infinitely stubborn.


And I’m stuck here


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Mud Puddles...


Mud puddles of refreshment

for even the fragile,

who are not too proud to drink

from a supply less inviting.

Fluid grace of movement

that pauses to quench its thirst

knowing that it must

to survive the summer heat.

The dry season is not faraway,

something the fragile know...

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Also by Carol Congalton:

Do or Die... | A Pony Tale... | The War Machine |

agingten line poemmudfragility

harvest moon

shadowy sheets cover, 

dark, shining lips purse;

pointy ears prick skyward

as corn stalks pondered

chanting scarecrows curse

in a sea of dreams left over

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Also by Frederick Kesner:

Rotterdam | Ballad of Billy McGee | no poetry by numbers | innit your day? | uplift | reed music |


On my app

Panera Bread is preparing your order,

to be delivered between 4:06 and 4:16pm.


Roderick Velloza is putting salad

on your chicken sandwich


while imagining banging Clarisse Mendoza,

who’s bagging the chips


Your order is on the way,

driven by your currier Tareq


who fears his children are being corrupted

by the new “Strazz” dance


and Taki’s extra ...

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Also by Robert C Gaulke:

birthdays |

Sage 2.

Stones along the shore that is where i found you sitting by yourself eyes fixed at the moving horizon you tried to swim
through strong currents just to reach peace perfect beach
littered with golden dust
it could be yours
to hold its soul in your artificial hands
teach valuable premonitions to deep sea treasure divers
hiding the truth about the proof collected but vaq...

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Also by RudyardK:

Bloody mess. | (untitled) | (untitled) | (untitled) | (untitled) | Good to be Dutch. | (untitled) |

Fun Times With Alba

In the garden under the hot May sun.
Playing with Alba, having lots of fun.
We boarded a rocket, flew into Space.
Waving goodbye to the Human Race!
We circled the Stars and Moon twice.
In her little Rocket...made of juicy ice!
Back to Earth, we returned to land.
We came in fast, so I held her hand!
We had a pretend sleep, without a care.
I poured lots of water all over my hair!
Her lolly...

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Also by Mike Bartram:

8 Years | So Sorry Mum | 'The Party' | A New Dawn | Steps |

Petals That Drop

Beautiful are the petals that drop...

     on every side see the fight
for flowers that do not wilt.

And the Sun who dies day after day...

     hear a sigh fade among reeds
"I tend an eternal flame".

Like the truest friends come through the fog...

     adequate feel the weapons 
that secure a stone bunker.

To carry sorrow and grief away...

     yes, the sigh fades among ree...

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Also by Adam Whitworth:

Little Butterfly | Silence | Psychopath In Decent Clothing | Season Of The Leaf |

Weekly WalkaboutsVerse, E.G. - Poem 134 of 230:  RAWTENSTALL - SPRING 2001

Poem 134 of 230:  RAWTENSTALL - SPRING 2001

A whistle’s “we are off” scream,
    Plus the sight and sound of steam
Against a stone tunnel-wall,
    On the track to Rawtenstall.

High up from where I now dwell,
    A much narrower Irwell
Flows past Rawtenstall’s station -
    Making its own Bury run.

Turning to view a wide ridge,
    I walked to Weavers’ Cottage,
Whose staff enlight...

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Also by David Franks: Walkabouts Verse:

My Weekly WalkaboutsVerse, E.G., "LYTHAM AND ST. ANNE’S" |

An Occupational Hazard

At fancy dress parties I always have fun

Last Tuesday I went to one dressed as a nun,

I drank too much drink and I ended up drunk

And woke up on Wednesday in bed with a munk.

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Also by branwell kent:

Magnificent | Hey-Ho | At Last, A Use For Shakespeare |

Ta Very Much

Spots red volcanoes

Creepy crater skin

White ghost face

Eye lash horror

Peach puff lips

What you need

Full make over

Mud pack needed

In the morning

Stuck like tar.

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Also by Nigel Astell:

Sleepless in Stockport | More Than A Game | Glade of Light | Sacrificed to the Gods of War |

mud sticks

Gender Neutral Toilets

There’s a gender-neutral toilet in our house
Like the one on a plane
And the one on a train
Like getting caught short in the woods in the rain.

There’s a gender-neutral toilet in our house
So politically correct
What did you expect
One or more types from which to select?

There’s a gender-neutral toilet in our house
How very outré
To piss that way
What would the second world war gene...

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The dogma of the temporal nomad

is an acceptance of the evanescence

of all, from the lacklustre to the astral, 

for even what purports to alter one's course

on a visceral level, has but an ephemeral tether, 

and is soon to be rejected by a newborn Present,

able solely to be resurrected by a Memory

so rudimentary as to sculpt faulty forms

using mud procured from the riverban...

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Also by Holden Moncrieff:

Beatitude | Lullaby | Quixotic | Caustic | Resisted Paths |



When I hold you,

You melt in my arms like snow in spring

Rivers of warmth course from your body, 

drowning my senses , 

blinding my eyes , 

like the piercing sun, gently washing me downstream in a flood of unconscious.


Precious moments , snatched, 

You draw the laughter from my lips

Like waters from the deep well

Fathomed by hands of angels


Head throne back ...

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Also by Edbreathe:

God please save us. | Peering in | Peering in | Fool crumb |


On the subject of coffee houses

I find the Starbucks at Walsall very good

original in many ways

residing in a Birmingham Bauhaus style building

nestling enticingly off of a popular roundabout

near the ring road

you get the picture. 

The serving style is second to none

and the staff have an almost come hither look

which reflects their desire to please,

and please they ...

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Also by ray pool:



Hi, I will be uploading photos from pictures that were captured by yours truly. Give me a follow on 

instagram: @mesquitecanyon_photography 

facebook: Mesquite Canyon Photography 

The beautiful scenery of New Mexico! 🌵💚

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CowsphotographyNew Mexicophotosscenery

Turn it around

I’m not sure how to do this…

to turn around from self-hatred.

to not despise this life of mine.

to no longer want to throw it away.

To realize it was never mine to begin with.

To be thankful for all that I do have

and to seek the flaws in my own logic.

not for self-pity,

but to reorganize my perspective

and see what I’ve had the whole time

and simply missed.



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Also by Joseph Healy:

Redundancy | He who sees it all | Expectations | Compass | Author(ity) | 3rd Hemisphere | Debating | Locus of Control | Too much to ask? | One without the Other | Den of Demons | Rebellion | Skin Deep | Spirit | I am Me | Hands-on, Hands-off | Talk the Talk | I wanna! I wanna! I wanna! | History | Simple, not Easy | Youth | Please, just listen | Everyday | Thing | Inner monster | Afraid | His truth for Me | My truth | Cyanide of the Soul | and myself? | Unknown | What scripture is for me | Nervous | Who dares stand against? | Ask a Stranger | Sunflower | Circle | House of Cards | Reflecting | Decisions | Look up | Attention spans | Next of Kin | Willing spirit, weak flesh | Bark and Bare | Another one | A psalm of my own |


Glorious Mud

'Mud, Mud, Glorious Mud',

Was a very famous song:

Sung by the great Michael Flanders

And played by Donald Swann.

Both, alas, are now long gone.

But Flanders' daughter Stephanie

Is frequently heard on the BBC,

So the heritage of mud

Lives on!


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Also by Stephen Gospage:

Afterlife | Day 82 | My Enemy | Anger Management | Lenin | Atmosphere | Make-Believe |



‘But he came to see us!!’

She said, trying not to kick up a fuss—

‘Surely we can at least say hello—

Before they go!!’


The Disturbance Leader cast her a glance:

‘We are not here to DANCE—

On command

Just because someone’s paid several grand

To be fancy at the Malangen Resort, on that there piece of land’.


(He pointed with his luminous green finger down at the p...

Read and leave comments (1)

Also by Jo Callisto:

Discussions | An Hour In Time | Uranium Boy | The BIG FACTOID | Always A Student | I Can't Get Over The Beauty | What Does Autism Look Like? | The Womble-Jo Of Wales, I Am | Pink Ghost-Shoes | My Ameriglish Girl | Desideratum | Paul |

We Make Mud


We Make Mud 


You pretend

I pretend

We all pretend 

That it's all fine


Underneath— angst is brewing 

But we try our best

To both appear kind 


You pushed

And pushed

And I pushed back


I think that you see white

You think 

That I see black


From other planets

But bound by blood

I am the rainyou are the soil

Without intent...

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Also by Rasa Kabaila:

Freedom | Complex Creature |


It's ten years since God's non-existence was proved beyond all doubt... 


A million people killed themselves in the first week

when they realised there was no inheritance for the meek


Every place of worship has turned out the lights

Members of the clergy have grandfather rights


There are no more good fights to be fought

The Pope's a concierge at Vatican City Resort


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Beach Boom Haiku

Sea cave woof boom voice

Cliffs where is it coming from?

Where is everything?

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Also by Jed:

New Haiku |

My Injury Time

I was once injured in a time gone by. 

To describe my dread I now shall try.

I broke nine ribs and gravely hurt my arm,

I asked, 'Do I really now deserve this harm?'


Twelve days in hospital I spent,

So slowly by they all surely went.

I lost my freedom and my dignity 

And no-one understood my agony.


I was in great and constant pain,

And like this I thought I wou...

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Stuart VannerInjuriesHealth

Loving you is painful

Loving you is painful
Like life's uncertainties
Loving you is painful
It's always wait and see

Will you make me sing
Or will you bring me tears
Claim you never knew me
Insighting all my fears

Push back folds of knowing
Tear down heartbreaks crust
I crave a touch of interest
And another trist of lust

But ever do I wonder
If mine you should compare
To all the ones that came befor...

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Also by Moana mai:

My Incubus | The truest self | Gemini flight | The Lovers | Control | Sink |

What a mess

It feels like I’ve been let into a world I’m not supposed to be in. Or am I? How would I know really, do I believe I know who I am? As if I don’t lift my head up high for those below Me and walk with my tail between my legs for the overlords! 
Furious! Outrageous and grand those ideas pour over my frontal lobe wetting it. Now it is sodden, dripping in the pure filth that is vision and life.   

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Morning Report

I should be drinking

boiled water

with lemon juice

but settle 

for black coffee 

and half a glazed donut

in the courtyard

watching the morning

traffic of bees

while the sparrows

cheep alarm

above the head

of the cat

stretched out 

in the dust and sun


and so it goes,

the sky blue

as a fresh coat

of paint

dabbed with white clouds

and b...

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Also by Tom Harding:

Balance | The Process |


On the day God created me, he wept

Because he saw it all then.

He saw my beginning and my end.

He knew things I wouldn’t know for a long time.

Things that confused me before

But now make perfect sense.

Like when I prayed as a child--

Such a young and stupid child.

I prayed because I was supposed to,

And if I doubted that God heard,

The problem was me, and not God.


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dubito ergo sum


Home is not the kitchen where all your meals were prepped and made, 
It's where love and kindness was once shared and hate died in the shade. 
Home is not the bedroom where you once laid your weary head, 
It's where laughter filled your belly and curiosity challenged dread. 
Home is not the bathroom where you washed and combed your hair, 
It's that familiar loving hand that bathed you with ca...

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Honors of Love


I shivered at the fearsome thing,

this affliction that found you here

amongst all your beauty

I could never find the words

to offer as medals and ribbons

I wanted to give you

for wrestling and sparring

with a cruel and indifferent foe


While somehow finding the courage

to provide an embracing home

for the audacity to hope

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Also by Mike McPeek:

A User's Guide to Mondays |


It’s a bright day, brilliant colors all struck from sunrays

And the night which followed was quiet,

Cicadas ain’t out yet, I’m still figuring out how I hear the same sounds

Miles away and still hearing ringing and shouts.


I could never make sense how the skyline is loud

How the blue feels like it’s fighting the sun in a bout,

I watch it from a window while academic papers ar...

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Also by Caleb Gorey:

Pieris | Sunflowers |

My Son Loss Pain Emptiness memorieschildhood lossdeath of a older brotherGrief death bereavement consolation friendshipfamily poem100 best poetry blogs

The Irony Of Love

We're never taught the cons of LOVE, programmed and naive. Not to sound cynical, but I see reality with my eyes open not with them closed. 

We live on others' experiences and forget about creating our own. Love is not kind, love is not peaceful, and love is not pure sincerity. Love is nothing but chaos, pain, and cruelty to one's mind and soul. 

They teach us to find a soulmate from dusk, bu...

Read and leave comments (0)


Black white black white

alternating stripes

difffuse the sun


Through the umbrella pongee

I see oak-tree leaves

and a scurrying ladybug 


A morning bird monologues so loud 

he's scared or proud

like Noah announcing the flood


A spider meticulously crafts

her silky sleek webs, shimmering traps

stretched out by the breeze for blood


Lizards do pu...

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Also by Candice Reineke:

Brave But Not Brainy |

Throwing Eggs at Thatcher

I threw an egg at Thatcher.
Not the real one, but the statue
they put up in Grantham,
which is the closest you can get
since she's been ding dong dead.
Afterwards, I felt guilty.
I could have given that egg
to a food bank. But then
if it hadn't been for Thatcher
we might not need food banks
in the world's fifth richest country.
Just one of the many reasons why
I threw an egg at Thatche...

Read and leave comments (10)

Also by Joe Williams:

Limerick #18 |

Alien Abduction

I wouldn't mind

But I only nipped out to get a bone for mi dog.

And the butcher's is just round the corner

Five minutes

That's all I was gone for

Five minutes


Bloody aliens

I mean

If they'd have only invited me to have a look around their spaceship I'd have been only too pleased.

I quite liked it if truth be known

Except for the probing

All that blood...

Read and leave comments (3)

Also by kJ Walker:

The Queens Garden Party ( Granny Slugshaw) |

No Restraints

It's time to spit something out

The subtransuniversal spout

Time to shout!

No No No

Not quite yet

For you see the wheel is still in spin!

But if you would like to buy a vowel

Please give us your two cents

For you see

"we are merely players, performers, and potrayers....."


"ant it funny how the feelin' goes away...."

Like a bicycle illuding the clutches of g...

Read and leave comments (0)

From Eternity to Here

Hey you there, count your blessings

Because you could be a fish living

In the dark twilight zone of the sea

With no IQ and a light on your head

Knowing Jack Shit about anything

Not even sunlight, let alone apps or

Mobile phones or the Premier League

Or new movies and video games


You would have to swim through dark

Freezing pressurised water luring

Vile tasting th...

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Angler fishNihilism

Good morning

A beautiful day to start with

Humbled by the care He shows

My protector and my guide

In thee I shall always rely


A lovely day embarks on the ship of gold 

Creating a peaceful healthy beginnings

I'm grateful for this perfect healing 

That was divine anointing 


I'm happy and filled with noorullah in my heart 

For the one and only God almighty, Allah Subhanahu Tal...

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Also by Ghazala lari:

Eid ul fitr Mubarak!!! |

Cargo 200 - Special Delivery

Cargo 200 – Special Delivery

A run on the rouble in the Russian State Bank,

the Muscovites cursing the Brits and the Yanks,

the young mother fretting for her son in his tank

while the old man beside her his face has turned blank.

His i-phone appended to his hairy red ear

as she frowns and she strains in an effort to hear,

then watches his face morph from blankness to fear


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