Poetry (Remove filter)

Critical

Imagine freedom being tied

To how far you can run

Be it from a gun,

your mum

Running from expectations

You're acting like a bum

Someone's son

To succumb to banal pleasures

You bum

Experienced pleanty these few years

But yet still

A master of none

 

The cat has 9 lives

You live to tell one tale

You've been given plenty of opportunities

And yet you fai...

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poetryfamilyYearningbecoming

TAINTED

Tainted words are like shadows

Amid your weak sunny days

Tainted dreams are like the mud

On your black patent leather shoes

You cannot walk towards your hope

Having these sorrowful feet

And with a barefaced kind

Of friend hidden on your mind

Tainted whispers are like a curse

With the promises you've broken

Maybe a thousand times

A sudden storm taints the breeze

...

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poetrypoets

Excess

i)

Living under a veil of uncertainty one tends to spiral

Denial, Trial and Error the child inside is desperate to come home

Errors and false hopes become tendencies eventually

One and all, once together, all get pushed to the periphery

In a cold winter one tends to call the warm home

Layers that seem adequate we love to deem adequate

A covered fire cannot burn

A covered p...

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excesslayerspoetryponderingsfirst poem

refusal is slow

I

i'll be honest,
I refuse to love you. 
my chest sits in knots 
even in this revelation
the would-be butterflies remain trampled
and God knows they fly all around him
im not sure they even had the chance
to cocoon, your slime-gripped words
of small flames devoured their bloom.
No. Yes. No, im not bitter. Im selfish. 
I'm greedy with want, a desire-is-me factory of production
I hold ...

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sad poemsHeartbreakbetrayalpoetrypoetrelatablerelationshipshealing

Just a Thought

We grow up with fantasies in our head

"Become more", naturally I said

That is all I want for you and I

 

It was only borrowed time

They were only doing what was in their heads

 

It IS worth sharing

But can it be?

 

What am I becoming?

What have I said?

Can someone share this with me? 

 

 

 

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Poetryfree verse

It's occurred to me that I really love the kind of things that represent a beautiful but gentle sadness because it feels like the most accurate reflection of real life and it feels the most like home.

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Poetrywriting to writeStranger sadness everyday lifehome

walking

"i know how to walk from here to there" 

okay, i muse back, 

"so walk through fires with me, walk through" 

i cant. i never have been able to. 

the places that i walk from are the mouths of cavernous houses. 

and from them ive only just realised i can leave.

"i will give you wings and a heart and a lust for the finer things"

good, i need an incentive.

"but you must act upon...

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poempoetrypoetpoemswritingnon fictionfictionshortshort storyteenageamateurgirlhood20awesomegoodsad

After All

After all

In the end 

If it was all just one long, strange, and pointless trip 

Then it was at least interesting

And that's the most important thing in the world. 

 

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Poetrywriting to writelifetimethe end of the world

Mind Fog

Maybe something happens

Which propagates a deep unease

That makes you acknowledge the weight in your brain

And reminds you that you're unwell again

Volumous storm clouds roll in and take hold

As well you sit with your feelings inside your head it seems as though a thousand years drift by within yourself

As you wait for the interminable unrest to pass

Lightning strikes and thun...

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poetrywriting poetrydepressionturmoilunease

The Bottle

The Bottle

Sometimes it's easy to take comfort from a bottle

Trying to numb or dull the anxiety

A swill of sweet oakey booze to dissolve those feelings one would rather ignore

But eventually, given enough time, and enough drink

One starts to notice that bottle isn't your friend 

It doesn't work

It doesn't numb anything

In fact, most of the time, it boils and churns up and c...

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Poetrywriting poemsalcohol abuse#addiction #recovery #sickness #perspective

there's a couple sitting two seats in front

sitting on a train with my head bowed in a quiet mourning for the couple sitting two seats in front.

or really for me.

i mourn for me, me and my love and its cramps.

im in love, im in love and once more im in love. 

not with anyone but with everyone, or anyone who'd see it through.

then each time i remember that the only thing i want to be is noticed,

someone can notice that, eve...

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postpoetrypoempoetamateur poetshort storyprosewritinglovegirlhood

Ebook out and charting!

It's made the charts at Amazon.co.uk! Top 4, could it rise up more?!

Help a fellow WOL poet out and get your own copy of The Writing Group.

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amazonebookpoetrykesner

Love is Strange

Love is a strange thing isn't it. Many got blessed by the love as it transformed their lives picking them up from bottom and taking them to the heights of the sky. And for some its a curse that only put sorrow and misery in their lives.

 

Once someone said something very beautiful about love and who loves the most a man or a woman.

By every mistake a man made and woman forgives just adds ...

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BetrayalLoveLovelifeLoversPoetrySelfloveShortsTrust

a player’s skill set

experience is experience of a skill set
to tell of a experience is to tell of a skill set
to tell a tale of a experience is to tell a tale of a skill set
a tale of experience is a tale of a skill set
a skill set is a set of skill
a set of skill is a set of a player’s skill
a player’s skill is a player’s set of skill

to tell a tale is to tell a player’s experience
a player’s experience is...

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poemspoetryskillexperiencetale

Wound up with Love

Wound up with Love is Clive Donovan's second collection. A pamphlet published by Lapwing of Belfast in 2022.

A selection of poems all about love and its difficulties. Dedicated "To all the girls"

It is said of this book that wherever you are on your love journey you will find yourself on one of these pages.

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wound up with lovepoetrypamphletLapwingLove poetry

More on The Taste of Glass

Richard Palmer for South Magazine, commenting on The Taste of Glass: "[The poet] is both the observer and the observed, trapped on the other side and her real kiss still tastes of glass. The poet adopts a range of personae...ranges widely in scale...tone too..."

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The taste of glasspoetryreviewRichard PalmerSouth magazine

The Taste of Glass Reviews

What they said about The Taste of Glass, Clive Donovan's first poetry collection published by Cinnamon Press:

"A treasure trove of sharp insights and fresh ideas" Clifton Redmond for The High Window

"Mighty powerful stuff" Sam Smith ed. The Journal

"Wild and meaningful" Fred Beake

"Poems of nuance and feeling" Robert Garnham

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The taste of glassPoetryReviewCinnamon Press

a claim of a universe

the universe is a claim of a claim
the universe is a claim of a stake
to claim the universe is to direct the universe
the future direct the future
the future direct the stake of the future
the stake of the future is the direct of the future
the stake of the future is the stake of a direction

the universe is a direct universe
the universe is a direct claim
science claim science
the dire...

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poemspoetryuniversescience

Mersey Poets bring peace to Palm House

 

 

Merseyside poets, singers and musicians are getting together to perform a handful of events inspired by John Lennon and Yoko Ono.

 

Organised by Wirral poets Michelle Wright and Barry Woods, the events highlight current conflicts around the world and feature work from their new community anthology ‘Poets for Peace’, which is available to read for free on Facebook.

 

‘We are u...

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PeacePoetPoetryLiverpoolBarryWoodsMichelleWrightJohnGormanLennonYokoOno

hear it now!

if you show yourself to me 

i will disappear under the vastness of linen filled lines.

i will run through clouded streets until my legs give way. 

if you loan yourself to me 

the farthest hills out yonder 

arent far enough for me. 

the distance to be put 'tween us 

by me, 

must be longer than the wizened vines that grow from your mothers childhood home. 

must be wider th...

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poempoetpoetryshort storyfictionprosenon fictionstory

sure

i miss the child i was at 17. 

i miss 17, i miss missing, i miss loving nothing. 

i miss wanting to feel and not being old enough to get it yet.

i miss thinking i was emotionally literate. 

im 19. 

nineteen. 

i am still a baby, a kid, a viriginal chalice not yet ready to be drunk from.

there is no slow down, you crazy child when it comes to me. 

my onlookers wince as i choo...

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poetpoempoetryprosetrue storyfictionnon fictionshort story

big girls don't cry except when it is absolutely not the right time to do so.

am i hungry or has the pit returned.

that stupid fucking pit.

its an eternal loop, circling in and out of itself.

floating dead centre in my gut.

particles of another girl explode and expand out of it, 

overcome by this strange girl from the strange world.

i weep on my mothers lap, 

i retch over porcelin, patterned.

seeing my sister for the first time in weeks, 

she glow...

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poetpoetryprosepoemspoken wordanxietypanicpanic attackfictionnon fictionshortshort storystoryteenageteenage poetryamateur poetry

a tiger vengeance

the eye of the tiger is,
the eye of a vengeance
the eye of the tiger is,
the eye of a clash tiger
the eye of the tiger is,
the lure of a tiger
the eye of the tiger is,

the lure of a vengeance
vengeance is a lure of a vengeance
vengeance is a lure of a tiger
resolution is a lure of resolution
resolution is a lure of a tiger
a tiger resolution is a tiger lure of resolution
a tiger res...

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poemspoetrytigervengeance

don't hmu.

youre a good little girl,

he types.

youre submissive arent you, 

he moans, over text.

he expects a beguiled, 

blushing emoji in response.

what he gets is three dots and an empty silence so loud he remembers what he is.

a greasy teen (21 years of age).

a lusty manchild looking for another child. 

he tells me im a cute and submissive girl, 

with luscious milk bags. 

...

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poetpoetrypoemmodernnew poetnew agetexttechnologyteenagergirlhoodwomanhoodboyhoodnewfictionnon fictionshort storyprose

I couldn't think of another stanza

curled on a velvet chair

in a darkening room

is a monstorous teen. 

outside the blackening,

is a fading pink sky.

the clouds within whisper to shepards, 

"Delighted I Hope"

and on the highest grassy hills,

the shepards face eternity.

 

 

 

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poetpoetrypoemteenteenagerfemalegirlhoodfictionnon fictionlovewritingstoryshort storystanzasshort poemwomanhoodteen writerteenage writeramateur poet

new moon

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rkaygalateusarkayyecrypticbardarqiosexcalibardarqoiskesnerarquiouskessnerpoetrykenser

Acting

Because In those 10-15 minutes of a scene,

I’m not me.

I'm a completely different person, in a completely different world.

A world that doesn’t really exist.

Then reality hits and you wake up from the dream.

The dream that was so real, and so fake.

And you remember who you “really” are…

Or do you.

 

Feeling Kinda Lost

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poetry

Memories

The most beautiful part about life are memories.

We can feel them, deep inside our hearts.

See them, right in front of our eyes. 

But most importantly…

We can relive them, as many times as we want. 
 

- M

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poetry

in/out

one day I woke up
tired of taking the oxygen in my lungs for granted

so now I breathe
deliberately
and as I breathe

so I live

 

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poetrypoemofthedaylordblackheartwritesin/out

The Origin of Silence

He came like an ancient prophecy

sparked by the howling of the seasons.

Those who pursued him knew nothing of his arts

They did not see him sewn into the four winds

They did not hear him no matter how loud he sang.

In this time of virus and plague true hunger bares its teeth.

A fierce breaking, a shaking and a flailing

A swooning and a sweating, a cruel fever falling

All ab...

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poetryprophecyperformance poetryspoken wordaustralian poets

All Day Breakfast

Your bad hours fizz

in a squirming glass,

and as cheery as they

had previously seemed

you require the waitress to

please change these flowers -

they're fake;

this head, please ... this universe ...

Hope the bellowing coffee

can fill you without any serious

danger of overflowing.

 

Yesterday

you only needed to pin down

the laughing words;

today you're th...

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poetry

check yourself

check yourself fool
check your judgement
check yourself by judging yourself
pride yourself by judging yourself
pride yourself by judging your judgement
respect yourself is by judging yourself
respect your pride is by judging your pride

to fool yourself is to check yourself
to fool yourself is to respect yourself
respect is to honor yourself
to honor yourself is to honor your respect
j...

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poemspoetryjudgementpridehonor

Merseyside Poets Read for Peace

 

Merseyside poets, singers and musicians have come together to perform a gig for Peace at the Williamson Art Gallery in Birkenhead.

 

Organised by Wirral poets Michelle Wright and Barry Woods, the event highlighted current conflicts around the world and featured work from their new community anthology ‘Poets for Peace’, which is available to read for free on Facebook.

 

‘We are uni...

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BarryWoodspoetpoetryMichelleWrightBirkenheadpeaceWirral

lost my way

my soft soles patter over the cold slates that make up the maze of halls im scurrying through.

i am on an adventure, a treacherous journey,

to retrieve a single key for a locked door ive been trying to batter down my entire life.

there are others, winding their ways through the spiralling turrets.

sometimes we even fall in unison, 

our shoes hitting the same beats, on the same beate...

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poemproseshort storystoryshortpoetpoetry

bird watching

gracefully i perch on the edge of the bus seat, 

so as to convey my feminine, my eyelashes. 

each time the doors open my posture rushes to fix itself, 

my fringe blown out by my hands running through it. 

when i'm most worn out, 

on the days when the world is dragging its feet,

when my joints tingle with pins and needles. 

to look pretty on the edge of a bus seat is a fufillin...

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poempoetrypoetwritingwritergirlhoodnon fictiongirlsfeministbeauty

i survived NYC


My brain is leaking out my nose.

leaving an imprint on the soles of my shoes as I walk on,
it splatters, 
squelching, 
as the birds pitter, patter on,
a minuscule impact behind the larger one.
the sky tilts with me,
f-lling
fall-n
fa-l (how do you spell -alling? i thnik.  ha;ve I ‘forgtten’ HO?W t0 write to )

Click
                      Click
                                     ...

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experimental poetrypoemlonger poempoetryquirky

WAITING FOR MACCA

WAITING FOR MACCA

'Long tall Sally she's built for speed'

We're waiting for Macca

'She's got everything'

At Glastonbury

'That uncle John needs'

Oldest performer to top the bill

'O babee'

Not long now

'Yeaaaaah babeee'

We just can't wait

'Havin' some fun

Tonight’ !

@David Subacchi

June 2022.

 

 

 

June 2022.

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poetrysubacchiliverpool

Nishinomiya City Fogs

Expectable tracing
a light spreads a fire
a dark at night

red clouds natural science’s task of decipherment
diagrams expend texts reported by the coast

a snap, a rasp, a chatter on the seabed

Onagas castanet in Ginkgo
precursors foreshock zoology
cumbrous seismisms mackerel skies
the scenery blurs
long hairs in the north in Gamelion
Hinoko rainbow between mountains
black, yellow ...

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poetrypoeticsearthquakesanimalsKwaidanBengalimeteorologyseismologyethologypsychoacousticsscience fiction

girls and their nonsense.

floating in that acrid pool of nothingness, 

a feather kissed the tip of my nose and whispered softly over my face.

in that moment, decided. 

i watch the village of women who surround me each day, 

awash with a soft awe at their mossy eyes and woolen hands. 

i link arms with the girl i love most on a late night walk, 

running from the boy who asked me to give apart of myself.

...

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poetrypoetprosepoemteenage girlgirlhoodfeministfeminismfeminist writingfeminist poetrywomanhoodgrowing painsself imagefemale outlookfemale empowermentwritingshortsonglovelight

For ASCGDF:K

after For M by Mikko Harvey

 

I didn't expect you to leave

red paint on my heart. 

Have you ever spoken

without the timbre of your gaze

turning words into molasses?

Well, if not, I think you should try. 

Follow my lead:

Emotion tied to twisted words and Pokemon is an odd combination.

I hope you know the melody of my laughter will be found in those words.

Sometimes,...

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poempoetryfriendshiptendernessloveconnection

Ode to my distraction

after Ode to my Envy by Chen Chen

 

I'm distracted by those around, meshing their hands with the keys I can't bear to touch.

I'm distracted by the words which won't come to me but scream that poetry is everlasting.

i'm distracted by the fugue state

 

my eyes have decided to be buried in & remain seated for the show.

I'm distracted by the way I refuse to be elastic, forever hav...

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poetrypoemlong poemsQuirky

you know the bliss of evil

i've seen the smallest, tall creatures be eaten alive from the inside.

a quick glance to the left and under the bed will tell you all you need to know. 

the festering, rotten bed frame.

assembled by the very thing that chained me onto it for years.

but when i finally broke my own chords, vocal and the ones restraining,

another creature crawled from under the bed and took my place. 

...

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poetrypoempoetprosestoryshort storyfictionfantasyteensadsad storybasedhorrorevilbliss

the day I decorated one side of my wall

on the day i decorated one side of my wall, 

there was a statue that fell with a crash, 

and cratered the ground. 

a statue whos golden plaque was read aloud to me as a child. 

and on the day i decorated one side of my wall, 

with the movie quotes, 

and the pretty people, 

on that day my eyes bruised themselves silly. 

my pockets full of hours, and grief. 

non violent pu...

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prosepoetrypoetwritingpoemnon fictiontruthfulstoryshort storyshortmoderngirlhood

parties are the end of the world.

ive been invited to a party this saturday. 

i think i will go, 

i think i will get as drunk as i can. 

to feel the painful crushing weight of the sunday hangover. 

im going to act as if i am in a french film. 

i will tell each person a different lie, 

tell them something i've made up about myself. 

these people dont know me. 

dont know me at all. 

 

but whats more lik...

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poetrypoempoetwriterprosenon fictiondiaryself lovestudentgirlhoodwomanhood

immature in elementary

i'm choosing to forget the stick and poke image, 

of myself in my head. 

my likeness is one i want to be liked. 

the stick and poke is immature and elementary. 

think your high school aquaintance,

who always wanted a tattoo. 

but 15 was still too young. 

so they mutilated the innocent skin of their thighs. 

the mutliated image of my body, my face, my ugly wretched soul

b...

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poetrypoempoetwritingprosenon fictionfictiongrowing painsteenagerhigh schoolbody positivityfeminismmetaphorkidchildsunkenstory

no place unlike my own world

its awfully strange. 

i scrapbook pieces of my soul, and mind together. 

together on the pages of a lined notebook, 

the glue i used melts into the paper and the newspapers i borrowed evaporate. 

the news dies, or fades, it disappears. 

melted together with the newest form of creative escapism ive decided upon.

 

 

there are vibrations under my papercut hands, markered with...

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poetry

star shaped stickers

when i see the girls who match my soft body,

when i see them wear the skirts, the tshirts, you know the ones.

well when i see them, i feel as though i must reach through to the other side

of the screen that seperates and give them a star shaped sticker. 

the stickers that, while they got their flowers, we coveted on our walls. 

it's awkwardly awkward trying to explain this to anothe...

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poempoetrypoetwriterteenage writeryoung adultfeminismfeminist writingfeminist poetrygirlhoodteenage girlsno fictionfictionstorylovebody positivitybody neutrality

a bang trim

to feel as if one has emerged from a cloud of dust each time they wake, has to mean a great deal. 

it's what's on your mind, as you duet with the girl on the other side of your headphones. 

it must feel like the brightening of the day, the singing of the earliest bird, the sweat after the fight.

at least this is what you think to yourself. 

for you it means to be able to run two steps ...

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poemprosestorywritingpoetrypoet19girlhoodteenage girlnon fictionshort storyfictionthird personmusic

TEENAGE GIRLS

who wants the teenage girl
sitting on her rustled bedsheets. 
stained tshirt, stained tear tracks. 
smiling, cooing and ooing at the people on the tv. 
blushing when he kisses the girl she wants to be. 
or when she sits alone in the cinema, grinning. 
toothy smiles, outrageous laughs
too loud even for the rest. 
seeing the best film in the world. 
then another best film in the world. 
co...

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poempoetryprosenon rhymingteenage girlsgirlhoodlovegrowing painsgrowing upwritingwriternon fiction

NEVER BEEN KISSED

love feels like cold jealousy. 
sitting across from one another. 
the table could be worlds and oceans. 
i sting with furious stomach churning envy. 
snakes and beetles scurrying between my legs. 
closed and rotten now i know what i do. 
she is so much younger than i,
the times my time was always first, 
no longer exists. 
she broke a cycle as old as i, and therefor 
as old as my time. 
...

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poetrypoemswritingprosenon rhymingsistersgirlhoodteenage girlslovegrowing painsgrowing upnon fictionshort story

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