Poetry Blog by Charlie Preston

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Laura Taylor on How To Be Better (Thu, 4 Apr 2013 09:45 am)

John Coopey on How To Be Better (Wed, 3 Apr 2013 02:48 pm)

John Coopey on How To Be Better (Wed, 3 Apr 2013 02:47 pm)

Yvonne Brunton on How To Be Better (Wed, 3 Apr 2013 02:45 pm)

Mikhail Smith on How To Be Better (Wed, 3 Apr 2013 12:27 pm)

Harry O'Neill on The Cupboard of Death (Tue, 2 Apr 2013 02:28 pm)

John Coopey on The Cupboard of Death (Mon, 1 Apr 2013 11:24 pm)

John Coopey on The Cupboard of Death (Mon, 1 Apr 2013 11:22 pm)

Yvonne Brunton on The Cupboard of Death (Mon, 1 Apr 2013 06:55 pm)

Charlie Preston on The Cupboard of Death (Mon, 1 Apr 2013 05:07 pm)


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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Stars in The Sock Drawer

A galaxy is growing in my bin,

Whilst comets crash into the Chinese rug,

A blackhole bobs beside the biscuit tin,

And minute moons rotate around a mug.

The white dwarf in the fridge could curdle cream,

Spacetime inside the dryer steals some socks,

A wormhole warps the washing; starts to steam,

As pulsars tick off time like cuckoo clocks.

A silky milkyway sleeps i...

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How To Be Better

How can I be better?

Perhaps a tight sweater -

To flatter my hooters -

Would that make me cuter?

Work smarter? Get fitter?

Expand my grey matter?

Or maybe be muter?

I need a life tutor.


I'll grow to be greater,

A clever debater -

I'll pare down the patter,

And trivial chatter.

I'll learn to write letters,

In elegant meter.

I'll clean...

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The Cupboard of Death

The capers in the cupboard decompose.

Congealing jalepenos germinate.

The gherkin’s great, green girth no longer grows,

But shrinks: each wrinkled pickle must deflate.

Decaying in the dark since ’93,

The furry, flaccid, festering fungi,

And green, obscene gelatinous curry,

Black jam jars buzzing with a fuzz of flies.

Foul fluid in the tins begins to clot,


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Someone Else's Sorrow

I picture you in someone else’s room -

In bed - a stranger’s ceiling overhead,

Awake in the gloom; feeling unfulfilled,

Cheerless and chilled by secrets left unsaid.


You’re wearing your usual man costume –

A routine face; average arms for regular embrace:

The suit you assume (crustacean casing)

For slapdash debasing and slipshod disgrace.


Whilst I, si...

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Greetings Card Verses

I was asked to write a series of verses for greetings cards. Here are some of them:

Birthday – Husband

Some women say that men are strange and that they hale from Mars -
They tinker with their nuts and bolts; the Sat. Nav. in their cars,
But without you, my Martian friend, I would not feel like Venus:
Greeted happily each day by a big, friendly… smile.

Birthday – Wife


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Do You Remember When...

Dedicated to Amber who wasn't Amber.


Do you remember when the most exciting place was the bench

In the park? And our fantasy clinch; a kiss in the dark?

When we stirred at the stench of CK1 -

Blouse buttons undone for a rash remark?


The kohl eyeliner, and transfer tattoos

On our breasts, glitter too - down low-cut vests?

Bra straps on show: neon Day-Glo, ...

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