For the Lord
Blessed is the one
that the wind blows away
like a tree
whose leaf does
wither— wither— wither— wither— wither— wither—
sinners take righteous
in the law of the Lord,
whatever they do prospers.
Not so the
fruit in season...
Thursday 8th October 2015 11:51 pm
Tags: all text taken from psalm 1
Also by Stu Buck:Britain First | Cryptic Crossword 26696 | Junk | garibaldi | Fed | Luke 10:25 |
a light on
of an hour
of my fingers
Thursday 8th October 2015 8:55 pm
Conscripted into lines
All of the colour but none of the smoke
It’s Friday night
And he’s had a few Pints
Of sup up and soak
There’s a queue at the place
Where the white queen rules
A place for a bit of sniff and snort
Teased out of hiding
With two tenner’s and a promise of more
No look of heartfelt perspiration...
Thursday 8th October 2015 8:16 pm
The Tragic Tale Of Sprout's Demise (being an explanation of the eating habits of some monkeys at festive times)
Before the ape forsook his tree, to totter upright everywhere,
There was an age, long past and gone, when sprouts had arms and legs and hair;
And in a world where I.Q. scores were running at an all time low,
The clever sprout bestrode the stage, proclaiming forth with fine bon mots.
And all the creatures were agreed that if poetic words were gold,
Their friend, the sprout, would surely be t...
Thursday 8th October 2015 6:50 pm
Also by Jonathan Humble:The Bung ... or why chimpanzees avoid elephants on trolleys | The Ballad Of The Fruit Bowl |
How clever to entangle words
To block clear comprehension
Dismissed by glib pretension
The meaning is beyond our fathom
Please adjust your setting
For all the colour in the words
Their worth is for forgetting
Thursday 8th October 2015 5:47 pm
Also by David Moore:Self taught | And The Man Booker Prize for Fiction goes to.... | Drum beaten | After the Bomb | Fishing with words | October | The other kind | Paedophile |
Something you want but cannot get
Something you wish is only a dream
Something you hear is empty promises
Something you feel is indivisible
Something you see is a blank image
Something you think is imaginary
Something you say is silent
Something is something
That the world is hoping for.
-Emily Anne ~10-04-15~
Thursday 8th October 2015 4:11 pm
Also by Emily Anne:Something... |
(A gentle riposte to the modern obsession with "paedos")
Pausing high above the beach,
I watch the children out of reach,
Racing down the golden sand,
Children dancing in the sea
Remind me how I used to be,
Free from care and full of fun,
A happy boy beneath the sun.
Thursday 8th October 2015 4:07 pm
Also by M.C. Newberry:CONTENT AND FORM | JULIE ANDREWS IS EIGHTY TODAY |
The dawn breaks gently on crisp October morn
Through misty eyes I welcome the new born day
A golden sun shimmers gently across the land
As a lush dew laden grassy carpet guides my way
A cloud of starlings paints a picture across the sky
Putting on a prize winning performance to die for
The trees shed their tears of yellow orange and red
Onto a warm welcoming cushioned kaleidos...
Thursday 8th October 2015 2:29 pm
Memories are not crystal clear they are like
a broken mirror upon which the sun sometimes
shines, residue of the imagined what ensued
or will happens are of equal interest and as time
does not move only things within does
the past and future is the same, yet it pains me
I shall not see my savannah again and I have
no pictures to prove it existed and the field ...
Thursday 8th October 2015 1:26 pm
Also by jan oskar hansen :(untitled) |
Thursday 8th October 2015 1:03 pm
Equality for mankind
begins and ends
in one indisputable fact.
We are taken from
the same lump of clay.
In the reason for the taking
the making and shaping
there is no equality.
It is the choice and power
of the potter who forms.
Some as vessels of wrath
fitted for destruction
others as vessels of mercy
which He has prepared for glory.
Neither vessel has a...
Thursday 8th October 2015 6:09 am
Also by Huw Thomas:Oblivious | Tears. | ...without hope. | If only, if only, if only. | fake. |
by Canyon Bates
Rooting around, finding
and seeking, flitting spot to spot,
carrying with them bits of those
who have sped on.
Thursday 8th October 2015 3:45 am
Also by Canyon Bates:The Key | The True Monster | Abominations | Unfinished Business | Vendor |
In the game of love, the act that should be the last, is now the opening salvo. But, as a man… why am I complaining?
This one is a work in progress. A bit bitter after hearing a fellow poet dismiss men’s romantic verse as “cheesy”, I thought how the shaggers / fuckers call them what you will, win and the decent folk are cast aside in these common times…
Karl Marx said religion was the ...
Thursday 8th October 2015 12:17 am
Tags: dating,etiquette,four letter word,love,moral,plenty of fish,POF,relationships,sex,sexual revolution
she waits for her lover on the millpond bridge
in the autumn sun on Michaelmas day
the waterwheel forever turning
caressing the river in its turbulent play.
In a Tavistock tavern her lover lies
in the arms of a drunken brazen whore.
The golden sun engulfs the room
their clothes lie strewn on the riven floor.
Lust explodes as his seed is spe...
Wednesday 7th October 2015 10:11 pm
Also by ray pool:THE LONELY DRINKER |
Loading the player…
A chant I have not heard for almost 60 years.
Playtime was fun and frightening and formative at primary School. It was a Boys School and play reflected that.
Ad hoc games of football were being played up and down and across the yard. Picture Manchester United playing Manchester City at Old Trafford while Tottenham played Arsenal across the pitch and several pockets of unrelated kick-a-bout...
Wednesday 7th October 2015 9:38 pm
Also by John Coopey:84-0 |
On 21st November 2015, we all swing into action to light up the whole town with words and arts!
Make a day of it.. Arrive on the ELR as part of their Ales and Tales event. Come for brunch and leave your kids writing in the library
Events for all the family all day and an 'adults only' theme in the evening as poetry meets burlesque.
See the website for details www.rammylitfest.com.
Wednesday 7th October 2015 3:55 pm
Tags: art,burlesque,creative writing,festival,Literature,poetry
Take ye one bulb of fresh garlic,
Pass it through the smoke of an open fire,
Then shove it in your anus, it's good protection,
Against being buggered by Dracula.
Wednesday 7th October 2015 2:10 pm
Also by Ledger de la Bald:Grandpa | A Viking Non-Saga | Sweet Nellie Dean |
I think about running away every day
closing the front door behind me
jumping in the car
turning on the ignition and driving
and it’s always to a high cliff top
or a windy mountain ledge
somewhere on the very edge of life
somewhere I can see the other side
I think about running away every day
turning my life anonymous
taking to the empty roads
Wednesday 7th October 2015 7:53 am
Also by Colin Hill:word letting | Southern BBQ Sauce | perpetual desk calendar |
We are moving to this
moving past the fog of
being and becoming,
being and becoming,
restless movement to
our promised self.
Wednesday 7th October 2015 4:33 am
Also by Josh Ford:Replica by Josh Ford | Neon by Josh Ford |
Moving day; a time of excitement, worry and letting go. My baby girl has finished college, married the man of her dreams and is beginning a new chapter in her life. The van left an hour ago and on a whim I went to the attic to make sure she had everything. I glanced around and tucked in the corner the words “china” in girlish writing popped out at me.
Tuesday 6th October 2015 10:57 pm
Tags: inspiration,love,memories,moving on
up is down and down is up
today I rocketed on my jet boots
from the top of my favourite fig tree
to the first level of the upper world
where I met the laughing Buddha
together we danced ring-a-rosie
and went cloud diving
caught a tornado to the second level
emerging in the garden of Eden
where we floated on lotus flower lie-lows
in a pool
with a shy frog...
Tuesday 6th October 2015 5:38 pm
Grey poverty and shining ignorance,
both born of passive rage
now lie burnt out behind taut eyelids,
neither choosing fortune’s path,
two poor and proud
gouging blindly heavenwards
to scar their unjust biased constellations,
then fall, defeated
to await their tragic epilogues,
duly cowed, with star-bruised f...
Tuesday 6th October 2015 4:34 pm
Critical Discourse Analysis is the study of language either verbal or nonverbal. It deals with the understanding of meaning hidden in the utterances. Teachers, Linguists, and professionals apply various tools of CDA for the analysis of language. Can such tools be applied for the analysis of poetic language? SHEERAZ ALI
Tuesday 6th October 2015 1:59 pm
Liam Fox fixes roofs by hitting old folks hard,
hammering the benefits that keep them warm and dry.
Alex Wild thinks they won’t recall who cut their fuel,
and even if they did, well he’s expecting them to die
so it doesn’t matter anyway, does it Alex Wild,
to freeze out folk who pay your wages, keep your nazi arse
in a Tax Alliance think tank making money from the old?...
Tuesday 6th October 2015 10:14 am
Tags: third reich,tory policy,tory threat
Bro,tell me please
To your heart's content
Enjoying a French kiss
In squeezing out
The nectar of their lady-hood
Are the lasses
For a while you keep
By your chest
To burn them to ashes
Squash them down
Under your heels?
Tuesday 6th October 2015 8:15 am
Tags: Love selfish fickle Platonic
Also by Alem Hailu G/Kristos:To hide a bloodstined hand | What shall I be ? |
I must be away soon
It can`t be long
The old heart
Now going like the clappers
Now missing the odd beat
At the core
Of the whole - the entire - caboodle
Then The Big Blot
Monday 5th October 2015 9:59 pm
Also by Harry O`N eill:Bon Voyage |
A Pint of Bitter, A Pint of Mixed, And Some
Change for the Pool Machine Please!
I will not cry upon your departure –
I will neither bury my head
In hands or upon her false buxom,
But I will remember,
I will not sing praises
And platitudes of honour,
And lie like a bastard –
Perhaps the bastard I am,
I will r...
Monday 5th October 2015 9:28 pm
Also by Noetic-fret!:An Evolution of Attitude |
Several times i was around you,
Several times in your heart.
You promised to love me forever,
And i did hold on to that thought.
So love hold me tight now more than ever,
Soon you will be gone and this time will be over.
Again there will be long days and lonely nights,
Without you being there by my side.
You will be far far away in the land of fire and fury,
Monday 5th October 2015 10:52 am
Retired to a place where men die
old and comfortable by their favored brand of cigarettes,
burned themselves down and down into heroic coals
down and down , the flags of the fathers
ashes reigning benevolence over sons in memoriam
a tired, doomed sphere in the middle of nowhere,
dandered with bones and renamed home.
It's all just a place with a hearth for hearts
where these earned embers...
Monday 5th October 2015 6:00 am
Tags: waxwood panama shuffle
Also by Zach Dafoe:heather (10/04/2015) | sequels to helena (10/04/2015) |
My legs are still unsteady.
Sticky and shaking.
My body heavy and relaxed.
The sheets are a tangled mess
and so is my hair.
But I don’t have one care.
My To Do list forgotten.
As I lay here catching my breath.
A smile plastered across my lips
and your taste on my tongue.
Monday 5th October 2015 1:28 am
Also by R Miller:xx |
Found the chords, the riffs are born,
got a front, an axe, a bass, some beats.
The song is written, the group is formed,
what name should the vessel take to the streets?
A mother? A lover? Seek out a legend?
Symbolic? Insane? Cast off the vote.
No taking the sis! Impress my girl-friend
anchor success with a name like a boat.
Think of book; of a pub, of a film script;
see the soft s...
Sunday 4th October 2015 10:57 pm
You’ve peeled off
Want to stick
It on me
Of your nob
Sunday 4th October 2015 8:45 pm
Also by Lynn Hamilton:Fragile |
You're not right in the head if you think I want to fit in
No offence I have my reasons
Blooming moody poetry
I got 5 out of 10 for performing in Didsbury the crowd loved it
F the haters they may dislike my face but at least I dispise them aswell
Mmm money lovers should remember not everyone's had a sheltered childhood soz
I've said too much its never enough
You make me feel l...
Sunday 4th October 2015 8:13 pm
I cannot speak to you anymore.
Though over these clay hearted years,
we never really spoke at all.
So now it finally must end
as I am taken once again
by collared, artistic agenda.
I cut languid love loose
re-tie dumb, devoted knots
that only he will now render.
Forbidden of fruitful verse
which may wistfully introduce
play on words of mourning....
Sunday 4th October 2015 5:57 pm
Tags: Katypoetess,love,love poetry
My blood is kept in a capsule in which she carries
She uncorks the top and it dribbles into the ground
Sinking below me, in the roots I stand over
And it devours me like quicksand as well her screams
My body is cold.
Sunday 4th October 2015 5:27 am
She looks at me with those mesmerizing eyes
And tells me, "Love, this is goodbye."
Her sweet lips draws up a smile and she blows me a kiss
Whispering, "I love you and I'll see you in a bit."
She close her eyes and rest her soul
Her love is all that I want to know
Her breathing, steady and quiet
Her body, soundly asleep
Therefore, I quietly kiss her on the cheek
Sunday 4th October 2015 3:05 am
Also by Smash Lee:The Lover's Plight | Crush | The Lover's Truth | Sliver of the Moon | The Hurricane |
Noggin the nog
and muffin the mule
will ...... you .......
... .. ....... ... drool?
words and foto Tommy Carroll
Sunday 4th October 2015 12:22 am
Also by Tommy Carroll:One hour poem |
If we had made it
Beyond the fleeting few days
Like a lightly scented cool breeze
Initial euphoria, strong like whiskey
Down a gullet used to wine
Where we breathed in love
Lost in clouds, white and serene
Like your brown brow, uncreased and smooth
If we had made it beyond those days
We would have broken up by now
And have been breaking in
Saturday 3rd October 2015 5:40 pm
A time, I knew death; and birth.
With belief I will be
an Autumn leaf
looking for Spring.
Winter is not the season
for foolish gravediggers
who await the journey to warmth.
Saturday 3rd October 2015 1:13 pm
During Europe’s summer, ‘88,
At a wall my bag was checked:
A brief smile at what gave it weight...
Sun-cream lid back - mood not wrecked.
I walked past plain buildings and cars,
And entered a small food-store.
Its goods were plain, also: no sweet bars;
The essentials - not much more.
As I bought crispbread with money changed,
A row be...
Saturday 3rd October 2015 12:53 pm
The ghost that flitters through your night
may be fully alive in another’s sight,
for the dimensions where they appear as a wisp
may not be the same as that where they’re kissed…
Imagine if your mind is ready for this notion yet
that the ghosts you see are not dead for I bet,
what you see is merely a slim projection from
another dimension of this world where they bel...
Saturday 3rd October 2015 11:44 am
Certain situations you become numb too
Just certain things ain’t what it use too
My language is disguise it what it said too
Even though my heart is against you
Left for dead made for two
Living life not youth too
Forgiving past that aren’t truthful
Giving life to people who use you
Is this what it’s about?
I can’t give a concern
Yearning for idealism in realism
Saturday 3rd October 2015 6:56 am
On the surface, I look calm and steady,
But inside it feels that I'm not at all ready,
These expectations of being someone that they have from me,
Are not my aspirations, its not who I ought to be.
Do what you love, it's what they once said,
But then you job coz you need to get paid,
I killed the child inside me a long time ago,
Creativity at it's finest is what I craved for.
Saturday 3rd October 2015 4:14 am
Looking something in the mirror of life
I found a image so aright
Was it eternal ,or a ephemeral, I had seen
A hope it was ,that has kept me alive
Endeavouring a new chapter of courage
Aiming right at the euphoric season
Happiness and prosperity at my door
Looking for the vivacious voyage
Quietness showed a new meaning then
Words became silent in there sleeves
Action was a new...
Friday 2nd October 2015 4:28 pm
The time has come when my sweaters don't seem so strange.
I appreciate this time greatly.
My littlelest boy in his tiny, long-sleeved frog pajamas.
My littlelest girl in her plaid and sweatshirt.
In my mind that song plays over and over.
The leaves fall in the sound.
My happiness returns with the colder weather.
My anticipation of excitement expounds.
They in their war...
Thursday 1st October 2015 7:29 pm
THE TIME OF MAN.
Wandering, aimless, blameless but blind
Searching for something you’ll never find
A wanderer, a squanderer of time...
A nomad, placeless, faceless,
Just like the rest. Eyes firmly set
On what you can get from today.
Ignoring the voices in your head
Carping, “What about tomorrow?”
Harping, “Consider the past.”
Is it the end? Has the dice been cast?
Seeing the world t...
Thursday 1st October 2015 10:41 am
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