Poetry Blog by Rose Casserley

a somewhere else of me

here is a planet that could be my mind

valleys bottomless, mountains that defy measurement

there is a wrong sky overhead

presently brimmed with one of its multitudinous disagreeable moods

the ground belonging to my feet alters shape

as if I had committed a crime against it

sentencing me to stumble after stumble


from the home of my sad internal sight

I can see how shado...

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evaluating you

without you if only for one day

I would have to struggle-glut on patience

tasting of your sweetnesses.

But should that minimal period extend into foreverness

I would become the sickened animal diseased by loneliness

beyond any other hearts help

worthy only of a quick death.

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boarding school regrets

so there you are, as me, aged ten

kneeling with other debonair's to be

for the beneficial status of Dear Mummy and Dear Daddy's sake

( and a smaller religiously unsure portion for God's sake )


In those distant playtimes, you often saw

what the ignorant teachers rumoured to be

' officially uneducated Gypsy children '

clinging to the outside of the wrought iron railed schoo...

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to a great inspirer







didn't know there was a key to fit my mostly closed mind

but you

ultimate locksmith have found it

and opened the floodgates.

Now, away I sail on a new boat, on a new and endless ocean

every brain drain unblocked

every brake put in the off position forever

every shit coloured thought repainted in the rarest of shades

and, after being amazingl...

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stitches in time

I can see them now

Mothers cutting-out scissors

sacred item

heavy in her delicate fingers

snipping at the edges of paper patterns

so flimsy and soft as the tissues she used

to wipe my little girl nose in winter time.


Now, more than half a life away

in kept memories of her 

opening and closing the metal jaws

steady as ever

along chalk lines of home-made designs


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look here dude!

if I loved the Messiah

any less than I do

might very well disappear

the miracle of me and you! 

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poor ( and lucky ) me

over-intoxicated with a variety of, remembrances

photo fashioned slide showing in my mind

many I love, but

knock! knock! knock! 

bitter ones, a darkness about them

at a door, I never used to open.

Has that darkness dissolved yet?

I look more closely and, yes it has!


their eyes no longer mock out of mine

or cause my, tormenting regretfulness ...

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age disbeliever

dreams the nights away in the long-gone lands of youth.

Rises convinced she is still there

that time for her has been put on hold.


Mornings are for pampering

futile attempts to remove the slightest sign

that could damage her reflection

ruin attractions of young  admirers


who she is convinced still see in her

the beauty that once was

and they will go on chasing


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last in line

atlas spread

I track your worldly route

across countries better weathered 

none wintered like here at present

a season you always considered to be

the soul damaging time of year

with its gloomy marriages to ice, snow and arctic winds

that for you would not divorce those

kind of mind injuring partners soon enough

so different from the tropical countries

you are drivin...

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Aesop's inspirations

spin me a tale

let it include monsters and one-eyed giants

that I can familiarise myself with

maybe a Pegasus horse

who could take me on heavenly winged flights

free of earth's captivity

but let it be happy ever after

after the end

continuing while I lie

fairy taled in your arms

my breathings temporarily withheld

at each of your astonishments

every word a caress...

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one poor cow one poor cow eater


motorway gridlocked

behind a cattle transporter.


Through a snout sized vent,

you sniff at the air of freedom 

head occasionally turning side on

so that one eye at a time can stare at guilty me


who knows as I can imagine you might do

in telling me with what I feel is such an accusatory 

death frightened stare

how I mouth-wateringly help to shorten you...

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I really do love you





five words

empty until real meaning fills them

meanings that would do more for my emptiness

than any deed ever could


five words I had wanted to hear

for so long

but never did until


I had climbed to the top

of a heart crossed mountain of truth

called you.

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mark up


love costs

has to be purchased using

a high percentage of the hearts ups and downs credit card


the ultimate in comfort buying


Love is a begging child

often subjected to too many snubs


an experiment

a trial by times jury

an understated state


but always strong enough to endure

keeps its engine ticking over

to even face the challenges of death...

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coming absences of sun and you



impatient autumn is stopping summer in its tracks

registering its decaying purpose

before any starting pistol had been fired


before the season's alarm clock

had sounded time to rise and waste

randomly instruct the leaf falling processes

overruling any chance for august to finish goodbye's


Only a dead week

since tanking harvesters toppled fiel...

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please! please! don't snap! ( an anti-dementia appeal )

a more than regular request between thoughts

a plea to the link

keeping me connected to who I really am

and not becoming her who drifts in and out of memories

stands, staring into the distances of nothing

rambler down lanes to nowhere

lost ship on an endless empty ocean

moth who can no longer find the flame

intermittently inconveniently unknowingly inconveniencing herself


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thinking in frames

wanting to find you everywhere, especially

in the galleries of my hopes

a personal Tate for private viewings

an endless exposition I want to walk in

with loving opinions on my tongue

and smiles on my face that haven't been painted there.


Glorified is how I want to see you

in each display, in each stance, in each clothed or unclothed version


but above all


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tender deluge

in this rain time

I have written for you

a love letter

each line

warm as those November flames

it's fifth-day children

remember, remember


flowered, gem-stoned,

doing their utmost

to gently, slowly

dance with your soul


along, the ways

of a heaven

word after, word

builds, beautifies.


Heart-written lines

for the saint in you to bless


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oiled and watered immortalizations

the arrangement was for her and her and her

to be the artistic inspirational

flesh suppliers

their beautiful fully naked forms

portrayed so life-like that,

even the most damning of critics

would have almost expected them

to step out of the painting.

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when meandering ended



once upon some years ago

so past stored calendrical events tell me

we were not you and I.

I call it missed out time,

a time when the chance of finding heaven

didn't exist


there was nothing of it

that spoke of potentiality

mist misshaped 


like a dream

about the realms of emptiness

needing to be disremembered


except when a chink of possibi...

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no more the demanding sound of his snapping fingers

am I to costume myself with facades just for him?

falsifying, prance doll-like on his stage as the person I am not

uphold his belief in sordidness.


These collective pretentious identities,

irregularities, and bad habits, not mine

he abusively pours into the vessel of my true title

tries to endow me with darker attitudes and voices

attempts to warp the dimensions of my nat...

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Rise of the adolescents

they've grown

I cannot defend my soft position as easily

and as softly as I used to do

no matter how many times I raise my hands

in peaceful surrender

armistice eludes


and it drains the Mother in me

to watch them change.

Verbally they shoot indiscriminately, on

behalf of their immature demands.


Where is the shield of love I depended on

to withstand their ...

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girls in the know

it had been raining all, day,

but that didn't stop her from laughing

because she is one of the girls

that live in each other's lives

where sadness can never be allowed to compete

they simply turn away from it saying,


this is us who have shed our last tears

who will never again lose another moment of happiness

even in our dreams.


They walk through their days as ...

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please don't laugh at this insanely inspired poem called -Seeing three pieces of plastic becoming involved in a love triangle with each other

Parked up in a windy empty street, munching.

A black and obviously empty dog shit bag tumbled slowly by.

For whatever brain dead reason I watched its wafting progress in the wing mirror.

Soon it was joined by a little white piece of plastic

and, they seemed quite happy to be rolling along together for a while

but that was until they were joined by another piece of white plastic


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how many times will I be forced into swallowing

life's broken promises that I expected to have been fulfilled by now

ones that I had hoped would have gone down much smoother and in one piece

comfortably shielding my eyes and ears

preventing them from seeing or hearing

the increased speeding up of each days self dismantling

pushing me through the last chance saloon doors faster an...

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passing into obscurity of an iron horse rider

thinking back 'bout a guy I loved

went by the name of Mad Mike

long-haired petrol head

one time straddler of a Harley


so many times we went the distance

and I don't mean in miles!

usual spliff after the usual you know what

smiling at each other's smiles.


How we used to blur to the coast

at death challenging speeds

then, in the sand dunes

both giving as 'v...

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Earth Angels

How they inscribe their loving names

so humbly, so spiritually on the air, and,

having done so throughout time

without any need to have practised humanitarianism


always there from every beginning to every end of calamities

with their words let there be light!

while modestly standing by, ready to go all out

in helping the eye sodden poor

doing their utmost by holding t...

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Buying new waste



about to purchase and

led by the hand of comfort

she peruses this, that, these, those

without wrestling with their price tags

inclusive of damage to our planet

takes away

things she didn't really need

soon to be past their best

while taking no blame at all

for helping to bang another nail in this world's coffin

its dying voice having gone unheard

by her i...

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Dreaming on......

if clever and or more poetical words

were pre-printed in my mind

placed in an ever so convenient metaphorical box

like wrapped gifts from the gods

which advertised on the lid-


then in choosing, I could take each one as if picking flowers

unwrap their individual original qualities

and make the perfect daisy chains of poetry,

each line true to the scale...

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A Hospice nurse witnessing at twilight

Tonight, a cancerous child

is returning to liberty the bird of her innocence

born in her heart

long before her consumer

has made this, his terminal claim.


Soon to be dressed in death

she strains to hear

waiting for it to begin singing

a never-ending lullaby to her soul.


Her face lifted in an expression of courage

turns for the last glance at me and the world...

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Set in stony ways

with its weight of year's

time weighs heavier and heavier on the old man's shoulders

but in the fair weathered golden crucible of his youth

sheltering his naivety as he revelled in its dwindling glory

there were no concerns for age or  death

no fear whatsoever of having to take part

in their processions of morbidity.


Sadly, any dreams he thought useable to fulfil his futu...

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at a young impressionable age, green on the scene

hearing their debut record

' Love me do'

had so strong a worshipping influence

from the very beginning

kick-starting my musical addiction

impatiently waiting to hear all ensuing

Lennon/ McCartney

pen to paper to Liverpudlian mouths

hit-making compositions


not knowing then

how wonderfully far their 'long and win...

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Hive member. Natural drone


buzzing drowsily at eye level in the oven-like haze

of a summers day

somehow knowingly choosing particular flowers

that, more nectar promising

fragrantly stand out from

the multi-coloured floral crowd he hovers above.


He is making the very best, 

of, being ( no pun intended ) in the right place at the right time.

 This winged collector, this stripey fur j...

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3 ridiculous retorts!

1-worried about going grey dome-wise and in the nether regions

I casually mentioned it to my other ( worse ) half

to which his smartarse answer was-

well, sorting a topper out should be easy

but if you do manage to get one to cover your 'pancakes'

make sure it has a centre parting.

At that point I certainly DID-digress!


2-woke up in a heightened state of elation, thinking...

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straying into a wildlife reserve

The briny air, marram grass and muddinesses

the latter, starting to fracture in the sweltering heat of the sun.


A site for coastal associated species

but not for foolish accidentally invading humans

like me and you.


The luminosity is bright blue.

The retreated tide glistens 

with the suns face on its own face.


Careful! don't stand on any little creatures you ...

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midnight midwinter


over frost stiffened moorland down hillsides strewn with small and monolith-esque  rocks

slinks the ever wary pricked up eared fox

soundless his paw touch upon the icy ground

sniffs the ways to where prey may be found

rabbit, vole, field mouse each fearing for their skin

disappear in haste, having, in turn, scented him


Black night becoming peppered with silent white fal...

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just some of big mommas family and me

I always had trouble conversing with mother nature

but no wonder! it was always me going on and on

about my materialistic loving self without realising why she

has no need to speak, because, she does so in the way;


a gentle breeze whispers in my ear about its passing by.

Incoming waves, arching in sunlight repeat their collapsing's onshore

having delivered then retrieved the...

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weathering S.A.D.

your moods are improving, becoming,

as refreshing as spring

as giving and as warm as summer

maturing with age in a beautiful autumnal way


but, although our love has, over the years,

performed its healing powers

helping to wonderfully, calmly, season your temperament


I still go on hoping there won't be any returns

to those that once, coldly, violently,

exposed t...

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my morbid phases ( deaths daily arse kicking of life )

Age is everywhere

everywhere I go I carry age


no second, no minute, no day, no year, no decade ( if I'm lucky )

has but my ending in them.


Thinking of the distance to my death

however near or far, is an overhead permanent dark cloud

on which the terrifyingly unknown attaches itself


how can true happiness or any supercilious thought of feeling completely free,


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in awe of poets uniqueness



She only has to write a few poem fuelling lines

and already they are powerful enough to send a rocket to the moon. 


She pens one last full stop

and the enormously winged masterpiece

leaves the runway

on its never-ending flight.


She composes so much deeper

than those who flounder in the shallows.

When her mind goes hunting

it aims at a landscape of tho...

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fair views and fair do's

I don't have any apples of my eye

everything I like is optically admitted on equal terms.


I invite them all in whoever, whatever they are

treating each one the same as the others

none are regarded as strangers.


Each welcome guest receives a nod

from those already having arrived

or a signal or a certain way of saying

'hello! how are you?


for example,

an ...

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Going back leads nowhere

The past, he said, is something best eradicated

as if it was a time murdered victim of drained unimportance

worthy only of being buried in oblivion.


Or consider it, he added

like you would an unuseful damaging tool

that disrepairs the future. 

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Tube station blues

Busker strums at the bottom of the automated staircase

his little dog slowly cutely spins round and round

helping in its canine beggarly way to inspire donations.


These moving steps I get on trundle me upwards.

Suddenly I remember the tune the guy is playing and

it returns my mind to the school morning assembly hall

where we are all readying to sing our daily hymns

my har...

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A love kill

I cell phone him from across town

my 'lover' with his growing impatience.

In the background, I can make out the sound of his fingers

tapping on a nearby hard surface ( like the last time I phoned! )


and at that point, I thought OH! THAT'S IT!

after all, I have loved him for too long anyway

 remembering how he craftily gatecrashed my life all those years ago

and that I, li...

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praising the beloved


positive Jimmy, my cousin says 'I'm lucky to have survived for so long'

'A nice lad to his parent's'

attended to them both while all were enduring various sicknesses

that took their fatal tolls, gradually putting paid to each one of the three of them in turn.


Always a regular at family gatherings. He was the well, mannered one

smiling as blindfolded he attempted to pin the...

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Venus personified



when spearing Moonlight

pierces the silent cimmerian gloominess of caverns

when that illumination exceeds the status of a hush

and disregards all shadowy rites

brightening their grasps


and as the passing of time, stooped, decrepit

continue's its staggering way

through the heaviness of age


memories of her are reawakened

like those he often recollects


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entry picture

Thirty pieces of silver

paid for nothing but his own death


the ensuing trial, the washing of hands,

the twelve stations, the crucifixion


were, part of a journey of suffering

for the sake of love for mankind


but the tree, the rope

and the unspent coins of deceit

were I hope part of a journey

of treading a path to the darkest corner of hell.

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beach tenant

taking driftwood for a ride

loaded on a wheeled contraption.

He sends up a flurry of gulls

descending in his wake

as he continues searching the shore.


Walk him home.

Washed up logs lean against his sand powdered shack.


Anything around able to have collected rain

has done.


Among his collections of jetsam

so many maritime oddments

plastic floats, disca...

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