Poetry Blog by Katy Stewart

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"The inward eye that is the bliss of solitude"

"The Inward Eye That Is The Bliss Of Solitude"

Serenity is sitting alone
Without a care in the world
Knowing that somewhere out there
Is someone who loves you
Just as much as you love them.
Happiness in the loneliness
Which makes you detatched but yet complete.
With a soul full of birdsong
And a heart brimming with wild flowers
Go out into the wo...

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flowers optimism happiness


This may be one of those "dark" poems with an uncomfortable subject matter.  Stop reading now if you are adverse to controversy. 


Lied to
and hurt
Smiles covered with veils
Remarks edged with knives
Daggers, guns and more
They'll take it all.
and hurt.
Hands touch places - wrong

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abuse childhood father


entry picture

When is a person not a person?

When they are different from you?

How many people do we pass by each day?

How many are looking at you?

At what point do we engage with a stranger?

Is that stranger you?

Why does the man sit on the street with a drink

And ask for money from you?

When is a person not a person?

Is that person  you?


©Katy Stewart March 201...

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entry picture

The whole world has stopped.

Nothing can happen until it starts again.
I click.
They click.
We all double click, click, click.
Tick, tick, tick.
That stupid little egg timer.
The whole world has stopped.

Open, close, open, close,
Maybe moving the window will help.

Kick it.

Make a cup of tea and walk away.

It makes a noise!
We're cooking on gas now.
The whole ...

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The Village

entry picture

It has lost its spark,

Its draw and lure

Like the one night stand from a lusty bed.

No longer a moth to the pink booze-fuelled flame.

The vacuous occupants of hot and heavy bars,

Attract me less and less.

Distant are the memories of the great night out,

The random in that bar, the flirt and the pull in the other.


They all seem so young and insignificant now


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To Whom It May Concern

entry picture

To Whom It May Concern,

Please ensure it rains on Sunday morning

For the rain washes away the shame

Of the city streets,

Neutralises the urine,

Disperses the vomit

And makes us clean again.


Pure and untainted rain

The antithesis of the city

Transparent and true

Falling without discrimination

On the people and ground below.


Sunday morni...

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