Poetry Blog by Rose Casserley

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DESMOND CHILDS on a particular desert (Fri, 25 Jan 2019 10:15 am)

Ty on fuck you Phil(istine)!! (Fri, 25 Jan 2019 06:16 am)

Kate G on a particular desert (Wed, 14 Nov 2018 01:35 pm)

Martin Elder on a particular desert (Tue, 13 Nov 2018 10:31 am)

Peter Taylor on fuck you Phil(istine)!! (Thu, 1 Nov 2018 04:59 pm)

Trevor Alexander on fuck you Phil(istine)!! (Wed, 31 Oct 2018 02:43 pm)

Big Sal on a particular desert (Wed, 31 Oct 2018 01:46 pm)

Rose Casserley on fuck you Phil(istine)!! (Wed, 31 Oct 2018 11:54 am)

Taylor Crowshaw on fuck you Phil(istine)!! (Tue, 30 Oct 2018 08:42 am)

Jon Stainsby on fuck you Phil(istine)!! (Tue, 30 Oct 2018 07:00 am)

a particular desert



beige dry sandy ocean

innumerable foldings, apexes, plains

occasionally disturbed

by customary caravanning 

nomadic and camel hoof.


The ethereal lion-sun

hotly inflicting its roaring weight

onto black canvas roofs

each protectively shadowing 

indigenous bedouin occupants


temporarily abiding

while seeking the more natural though rare

cool verd...

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fuck you Phil(istine)!!

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you fucking greedy green hard-necked mean machine

now we see you, no! 


now we see THROUGH you!

a man who belongs to nobody but his sickly self

with a smile that does the fuck NOT!

in you,

lies make themselves at home

the truth as always stays a prisoner

in the cunning corners of your money hungry mind

as you leeringly speak 

deceit stops honesty


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understanding stone

behind the door

of the age racked cottage

a historical dank smelling presence

has catacombed

in every dark corner

of every squat room.


To touch this earthy spiritual inhabitation

it would be necessary to call upon those

who could translate its rocky associating ancient story

time hardened jurassic materials used

raised high in times of earths shifting turbulent p...

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walking with wistfulness

summers death

within archaic leaves


sap drained veiny faces

obliged to befriend decomposition

wind disturbed

rustle with mournful whisperings


as if each  one is grieving for the other's

loss of  verdurous life 

branched days in the sun


such is the dirgeful air

of autumns association with cyclic transition 




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a depressives mind state self portrait


reluctantly painting a picture of his condition for her sake

done in choiceless colours by sickness inventing 

hoping her observations won't make her heart-break

he has to force them out of their palette places unconsenting


as each application, each of many brush strokes

began representing his failing mind

coming to light like a parade of tormenting sad jokers


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this, until he is not


flowers of of days and man

growing along the path of time

pollinated by home made failure home made luck

shedding offspring seeds as they go


Human innocence that behaved in the nursery

all too quickly goes from naive pupil to barely acceptable teacher 

in the rotting school of humanities opposing ideologies

and falling into the depths of unsure susceptibilit...

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Mr and Mrs Maelstrom

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she was wickedly attractive

he was dangerously good looking

two dirty devil bedmates

eager players in the same 

narcotized game


he was rock and roll ruthless

she was his sleaze dream girl

their knife-edge reputations went before them

but life wasn't fast enough


they hungered to be caught up

in a different race

addicted to everything bad

like rider...

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critically looking for Xanadu

forgive me, Samuel, but, despite how much power

your magical masterpiece,

your stunningly beautiful poetic escape from reality has

it still does not, and how unbelievably much I wish it did have

enough of it to have instigated my undying seeking

of its mystically clouded location

that your laudanum empowered quill told my soul of


yes, forgive me Sam, but your words


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if Hendrix had made it to old ( gigging ) age

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with the 'voodoo chile' in me

I would have been there for him

relishing the chance

I never had

of taking my gift of love not pity


even if he had to be helped to the mic

by white-coated assistants

even if I had to painfully endure watching him

struggling to get the shoulder strap of his guitar

over the grey mass of his hair

still in the same exploded frizzed style


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kicking the arse of my own capabilities awake

( for Big Sal and his inspirational mithering's )



I want that prize too!

that writing skill

smelling the fuck like the breath of the gods

for my nose to pass onto my mind

and doubtlessly tasting as good as the sweetest of all delicacies


as a questionable poet

long have I been by the river of imperfect attempts

a poetically inclined angler bankside

I go on ...

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obligatory divorcing of time

Relayed sad story 

two many years married lovers.


She terminally ill

and he struggling to bear the burden

of conjoined distress.


She could not have lived.


They say her frame

transformed terribly

becoming more and more skeletal

as she bravely dragged it

through her life's final dregs.


An angel maybe he hopes

unable to witness her suffering any...

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using jealousy as a weapon

weary knowing of his fancy women

like fighting fire with fire

she decided to give him a taste of his own medicine

dreamt up a phantom lover


googling the necessary information

she craftily lets the non-existent cat out of the non-existent bag

false rumours that traitorous gossiping so-called friends would help spread

and hoped they would find his ears


and using the...

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in the mad courtroom of my head

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' did you'


a prosecuting thought of my own

asks another of mine charged with human failings


' from the age of puberty to this very day, commit and go on committing offences against your mind? '


my guilty thought in the dock considered the question for a while and replied


' yes, I did and still do but only because of what life's bad influences instigate '



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merriment woven into a winters day

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christmas again.

Clothed like arctic explorers

for our traditional visit

to the snowy slopes:

heads woolly hatted,

necks fluffy scarf encircled

feet shod in, appropriate thick sock lined footwear


sledge pulling upwards

sharing early laughter to the point of ribbed aches


The tilted field 

crispily, whitely overlaid

its golden crop story of summer paused.


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cold comparisons ( life outside office hours )


burning a hole in the pocket of her jeans

paid for the alcoholic consuming rights and, long night


helping to fill, glass, after glass

and enlighten the otherwise boring space between six and midnight

now shared between regrouped workmates


the usual daily petty troublings

that she personally thought of as being dogs of domestic war

constantly ...

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I have smelt the threat of death death in the city's air

and, so endangered, mask-filtered motorised exhalations.

I question the irreversibility of this lung-damaging adversary

we have ignorantly allowed to creep up on

ourselves and build its fuming strength


the defeat of its blooming considered

all green defensive suggestions so far come to be of little repulsion

the ang...

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was I  dreaming or was that you I saw

soon after you had left us for that forever world

looking the same as you always did

before cancer decided otherwise?


you had that suit on

you favourite

although the expression on your face

spoke as the loss of you does

in the hearts of all who loved you and always will


those who are still reeling from your absenc...

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back up boyfriend

an old flames endearing power

has been reinstated

and the once lifeless line

once more carries the juice of his love

to the door of my heart


but, along with the guys I have on standby

to take him on might prove to be too much to handle

so I cannot as yet decide wether or not to disconnect his flow

or let it continue?


you see

should those on standby


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breathing is

a gift

we bring with us

from the womb

for our use in bridging

life's unpredictable span.

Each intake drawn 

from an immeasurable invisibility, 

inhaled and exhaled that we may declare our presences

and hope, it stays rhythmically sistered

to the pulsations of eternity 

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fiendish fisher

sermon air smells religiously doped

hazed with forgiving incense

mixed with prayers and choral ascending adorations


makes any Luciferous in-sin-uations

lose their power to interfere

no matter how satanically hard his influence

tries to moulder in preaching minds


the saturation of true heavenly belief

easily offsets the demoniacal attempts to darkly inspire


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perusing after taste's


times change

some bringing pleasure's

maybe not as many as

but certainly as sweet as

granules in a spoonful of sugar


yes, times change

sometimes bringing  displeasure's

maybe not as many as

but certainly as bitter as

granules in a spoonful of salt.


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La Luna a tribute

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there are no wind crazed clouds

to intermittently obscure

her calm-inducing smile

from beaming

or bar her from helping me

on my way to dreams

fulfilling the nights more beautiful purpose


there she is

perfectly positioned

to comfort all below

silvery tendrils untied.


My sleep filling eyes

trace her celestial journey

until we part company


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over expectant anglers

from the waste tainted wave's

they try to hoist

what cannot possibly exist

in the dirty depths.


Don't they question themselves with-

' what am I doing here? '

or realise that below such filthy

oil-rainbowed lapping's slapping

against the blackened seaweed clung dockside wall

marine life isn't? 


I see nothing pull on lines

no rods bend with the twisting an...

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Eva Peron's M.O.T. failure

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( She steps up to the mic to do another version of don't cry for me Argentina )


I cry for my old Ford Cortina

the truth is it didn't pass its 'testing'

floor too badly rusted

wipers missing

shock absorbers busted

radiator hissing


I suppose it was going to happen

but now I feel strange

no longer behind...

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She goes through the orchards of naive men

like a flesh-hungry cherry picker 


see each one more than happy

to be 'bitten' just once

and then discarded.


She goes through innocent souls

like the Queen of She-Devils


see each one easily duped

into becoming part of her sinful collection




when the last of the naive

when the last of the innocen...

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crimson inked correspondence


that is my blood


it is my way

of letting you know


every word

really does come

from the heart

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Dirty Doc

( inspired by Trevs suggestive Iceland visiting poem 'Banned' )




' is it anything to do with impotence? ' she asks

continuing to search for clues.

He shakes his head

his heart pounding faster than usual.


In the surgeries sterile atmosphere

her clinical ponderings are not

the soul to soul sincerity he...

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in favour of the flow

a common sight these traffic-clogged motorway  days


monstrous metal machines

digging up the beginning of yet another slip road.


One after another

holding its operative by the seats

of their soil stained overalled backsides


each in his glass box

hi-tec dashboarded office

button pressing, lever pulling


slicing, gnawing up mile after mi...

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an aliens warning

entry picture

living in an inner world ain't so bad

and I'm glad your grunt missions failed

nothing no-one has so far scaled

this artificial land

of pretend rock and sand

we live in as it circles Mars

none of your roving cars

will be safe here on this false moon-okay?

we prefer you keep well away!


and we'll scupper your plans

to get your strange five-fingered hands

on the d...

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in recognition of services to mankind

of my heart, I give grateful pieces

to the land the sky, universe and the seas

placing one at the feet of all mountains

others in branches of every tree


I present yet more to each flower and grass blade

individually to all animals, birds, insects  that roam

to the stars the clouds in the same singular fashion

those beautiful relations of my earthen home.


A share s...

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considering reincarnation

( payback to my past supporters. )



I wonder, he said

when our lives have ended

if you and I were to come back

as different beings,

you, as a Deer and I as a Tiger for example

would our recognition of each other

in some way still be possible?


only, I replied pondering on that William Blake type scenario

if, at that point in such a time

you were to do som...

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Natural bride

Happier and happier by day by night

to repeat my betrothals 

to the Sun to the Moon


golden and silver encircling my heart

their tendrils of warmth and tranquillity.

With these rings am I wed to each of thee again.


Come then once more

witness my thankful vows

you ever attentive wedding guests


that bless the air

that glorifies the depths of oceans 

or ...

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deadly disconnection

of the silent sufferer's I will never forget a close friend

too susceptible

vainly seeking remission

from the warped weight he had been burdened with

through absolutely no fault of his own


his grip on reality slackened

his self-identification lost 

having walked away  from itself long ago


why couldn't someone professionally caring enough

given him the real dire...

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shuddering remembrance of the dreaded shell suit!

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thank god and progress it seems to have disappeared!

the gaudy, silken-oysterish 'outfit'

that made the unfashionable 

look as though

they belonged to a travelling circus

or had been playing the role of a chav Pagliacci

in some demented (soap) opera


but fair play to the darer-wearer

having the balls to appear in public

in such clownish attire!


surely drugged...

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when insensitive dealers come to call

it's the certain other items of the deceased old lady

they vulture after now

not the laminated chipboard bookcase

or the much-scarred dining table, the kitchen implements

she coveted for their practicality


or the cheapskate bric-a-brac type gifts

presented to her when she was wed long, long ago

or even the Victoriana styled white lacy outfit

she wore on the day



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so, here are the photographs

pictorially telling of our daily, weekly, monthly yearly

journey through life


still-life images,

faces, figures, friends, fashions, pets, places and much more of the miscellaneous


showing how babies shape-shifted into bigger he's and shes

becoming venturers of the big wide world

experiencing its kindnesses and kicks in the teeth



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star chaser



There's always another budding guitarist.

This one

able to practice thank's to a big parental loan

hoping that fame and fortune

might do him a life-long favour

and create a link up with the big boys of rock


he understands the possibility

of having to wait the fuck out of-when?

maybe watching his dream being shit on time after time


that's why I'm keybo...

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pleasure and pain

I walk  five miles on the flat

between alternating grassed and bouldered hills.


Walkings a natural thing to do

a normal practice that never deserts you.


So, here I am again

continuing much where I left off

not for the worse but for the better.


A cruciform skylark floats above

reclaiming its ethereal stage

thermal catching wings outspread.


The old d...

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Santa's (zero hours) little helpers (the countdown has begun folks!)

yule tides

always wash ashore extra employment.


Ma, year-round house proud skivvy

doing her impersonation of her turbanned Mother

faffing about her domestic domain

sloshing ceilings and walls of every room

with colours she loved and nobody else did!

along with her duster dancings

from sideboard to telly to window-ledge

the twirlings went on and on


and anythi...

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dairy bound

entry picture

Country lane.



SLAM! goes my foot on the brake pedal!


Just ahead, a jostling convoy of cows

a black and white live slideshow

leaving one gate for another


each set of four legs

staggering under the heavy milky weight they carry

like wine in goatskins

the white fluid is housed

but in their own nippled flesh bags

slung underneath heaving to an...

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oh! Mr McKenzie!

as the train hurries her away

she suddenly recalls the song she heard

being hummed by an old guy she passed on the platform


the words coming back to the fore

of her duty cluttered mind

returning her to the precious era of the sixties


there she is again

in the dressing mirror

approving of her Janis Joplin influenced reflection

long raggy hair, far away eyes, lee...

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to have a loved one missing

ten years on

someone I think is you returns again

this time

benched on the roadside

suddenly illuminated

by moonlight painting its white light way

through the canopy of tree's above you


but then, the same as you have done

on so many occasions before

you no sooner appear then vanish just as quickly


this must not be allowed to happen anymore

for my desperat...

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unnatural selection

in the technologically bossed world

power play is the game

I.T. companies at each other's throat

an updating battle 

as they try to kill each other off

for as long as possible

without bloodshed


So is the natural process of life

slowly being directed

down a one-way street to Oblivionsville?

are certain ( unnecessary ) gizmo's, gadgets, logistics, apps, robotics,


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addictive returns

I am constantly being told

to stop going back to the past

but it is

as if I am being forced to travel there

in this vehicle of my weakness

stuck in reverse gear


it is as if

I am being directed there

by an unknown wearying force

and made to repeatedly look

through the window of a misery ravished house

in the darkest part of Memory Street


crammed full wi...

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favourite ghost

Preggers at sixteen

babied out at twenty-eight

married a second time

and for good at thirty-five


today it is ten years 

since you first coughed blood into your hanky

kick-starting your fears and our ensuing sorrows


it turned out to be cancer.

I wasn't there, working far away

not knowing the results

that you so foolishly so bravely

kept to yourself



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that morning and so surprisingly

you didn't feel like having sex!


since then

I have discovered that your erotic appetite

once as hungry as large as that of any other 

Casanovaesque lover

was being somehow damped down

gradually erased


by impotent particles swirling somewhere inside

as if it had stepped out into a snowstorm

and can never be found again.



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colour me positive

the weaponised gifts of hope and determination

are my timeless attentive's, constant companions

not things that come and go

like the starry stares

that temporarily diamond button

the ethereal black moon brooched cloak of night

presiding only until dawn decides otherwise

and slams it's bright door in their faces


such ongoing exchanges

such indetermination's

such a...

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adulterous alternatives

The only way we can be together forever

he said

is in the next life


I considered putting two bullets in the gun


poison in our drinks


better still

run his f*****g wife over!




then we could have

the best of both worlds!

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2 tradesmen's love letters

letter 1.....the plumber......


Dear LOOise

sorry I've been a bit of a DRIP lately in not having written to you before now

but my CISTERN has been out of sorts leaving me DRAINED

Doctor says it's because I've not been HEATING enough that has caused me to feel under PRESSURE


I think it all started when that COPPER caught me taking  LEAK in BATH

I would have driven off bef...

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reaping the inevitable marriage

having divorced life

I know all too terrifyingly well

who my next groom will be


it will be he

who waits behind the door of shadows

I will be forced to enter


it will be he

who takes my name forever

and replaces my flesh

with veils of invisibility 


whose skeletal arm

my skeletal arm

will be enfolding


as we both walk

down deaths aisle


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