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An Ode To My Bro

Ode To My Bro

A personal homage!

 

     You’re my brother!

And it’s sad that you don’t come round

For offerings of food –

Perhaps a Sunday roast,

It’s always got to be at your home

Or neutral ground,

     And the coldness

Is like that of stone –

Polished to a high degree of status,

But I’m your brother man –

And though we fought like

Cat a...

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Also by Noetic-fret!:

On Isolated Ground | They're Blaming Themselves | The Biggest Word I Know | Gentlemen of the Cotton Towns | An Elusive Natural | Inspired by Tom! | Tones Of Love | An Indistinguishable |

BrotherChild AbuseMother

Jet Set Go

Meet you at the airport
5 hour layover you say
Sit and chat and drink some coffee
And then watch you fly away

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Also by cbyrne:

Similar site to WOL in UK | MC | IT | 1973 | Left Hand Pathos* |

EQUALITY

To those who play the "Equality" game

And like to act as scorer,

You cannot make the poorer rich

By making the rich poorer.

 

What is equal?  A relative thing

When considering our existence.

Is it the gift of brain or bling

Or intransigent persistence?

 

Is it measured in material wealth

Or mental gifts applying

Or is it judged by physical health

...

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Also by M.C. Newberry:

KEEP THIS IN MIND | LONESOME RAIL | AN OPEN AND SHUT CASE | THE SOCIALIST WORKER(?) | THE POLITICAL POET | Zzzz!! |

Poem: My Soul Now Sings

My invisible scars
are plain for anyone to see,
as I blindly journey on...
This path of Christianity.

Wanting deliberate faith
ready on my tongue,
I received God's Salvation
when I was dumb and young.

Inflicted wounds to my soul
from a lack of understanding
have been healed by the Power
of Christ's personal anointing.

I am worth dying for
according to His Word...

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Also by Joseph J. Breunig 3rd:

Poem: Only Your Adoration | Poem: Prism to our Past | Book Review by Ellen Tanner Marsh: Reaching Towards His Unbounded Glory | Poem: Silent Words Are Useless | Poem: Giving Tithes to God | Poem: Moments of Clarity | Poem: On God's Mountain | Poem: Prone to Error |

christian poetrypoetryfaithbreunigMy Soul Now Sings

Our School Was Haunted

Our SchoolWas Haunted

 

Our school was haunted on this Halloween

All you could hear was moaning and screams

The chairs started groaning,

The floor was all sticky

The slime on the windows was squashy and squishy

The bats and the cats were cooking with witches

And casting a spell of chickenpox itches

The eyelash of spider and toenails of newt

Frogspawn and ...

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Also by Ste J Bee:

Murder, Death, Bones and Blood |

HalloweenHauntedHorrorSchool

A Typical Day on the Psychiatric Ward

Wake up at eight after a fitful sleep

Stagger into the day room where a depressed woman weeps

Dressed in a nightie she shouts and bawls

While the staff are outside waiting for role call

 

Eating soggy cornflakes watching Jeremy Kyle

In come the cleaners in uniforms they file

Cleaning the bedrooms it's pretty hard slog

One pulls a vacuum like dragging a dog

 

...

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Also by Dean Carroll:

Schizophrenic on a Mission | Top Ten Non-Movers | The Devil's Box | The Hangman of Prague | Mental Health Victims | Religious Dogma | Smoke Till Your Hearts Content |

Mentally IllPsychiatric HospitalsPsychiatrists

Testing Fate

Moving in circles

I find my way back to you

Just one more time

Just one more day,

I’ll knock on your door and

Ask you to let me in again

Hoping you’ll ask me to stay

Because your kisses are longing

Your smile deceitful

Your hands to warm on my skin

It makes my heart race

Can’t catch my breath

I’m just testing fate,

Hoping this will work

Kn...

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Also by emmy92:

Take me away | (untitled) |

The Futility Of War

Death, The Dealer,
The final deck of life.
No hidden agendas,
Just a cold slate to wipe.
 
With hand and sword,
With rock and stone.
With shaft sailing, deadly,
Through grey skies, alone.
 
The smarter the weapon,
The reaper delights.
A fulsome harvest,
Of terror and cries.
 
Split the atom,
And split the odds.
Split the procee...

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cardsdeathfutilityreaperWar

We protest

 Sir,

       Regarding the letter of support for Anne Feradi

             

We, of the millions strong male Mao branch of the Chinese abortees battalion firmly dissociate ourselves from the pro feminist views of the paltry hundred and eighty thousand total 2011 British abortee intake.

We have long suffered from the deliberate favouritism shown to our female sisters in the matter ...

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Also by Harry O`N eill:

Nature`s `revenge` |

Kulture is a Klub

photo credit: Bill Cottman

 Kulture is a Klub

For George Coleman

An old man named Change limped

Awkwardly

Clumsily up an avenue downtown

In his hand was a large unwieldy

Envelope labeled REVOLUTION

On his body hung a worn and frayed

Bluesed uniform embossed in

Stitches with the words

SPEEDY DELIVERY

He was expecting revolution

To come swiftly

But change co...

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Also by J. Otis Powell‽ (with interrobang):

I USED TO DANCE | (rewrite, repost) Amnesiacs | Little Wing / Epidermis |

George ColemanKulture KlubRev Kennaslow dancing

Smiling Through Sunshine Rain

My heart is broken,

there's sadness in my soul,

my spirit is lost,

i really am less than whole.

With a weakness of mind,

and judgement so poor,

i'm falling apart inside,

of that i'm sure.

Is it an illusion,

as inside i scream,

nobody can hear me,

or so it would seem.

Crying out for help,

no-one answers my call,

it gets worse everyday,

with the farther i...

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Also by Tj Steele:

Faith In Humanity | Delilah & Grace | Inner Demon | But Hey, Who Am I | The Old Bastards Will | Hurt | The Devil And His Army | One Million Broken Souls |

Perfect Punk - Perfect Day

I was in a New York frame of mind

A perfect day under a skyscraper sky

Strolling down the dirty boulevard

Waiting for the man with pale blue eyes

Then little sister I heard a sad song

A street hassle vicious piece of news

A soul man with attitude has gone

Now I got the rock n roll animal blues

Sweet Jane  - Not a magic moment

White light white heat check out ...

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🌷(1)

Also by Tom Doolan:

Loveontheline | By the Book | Fall Into Autumn | 1 in 4 | Morecambe View |

Tell Me About Love

TELL ME ABOUT LOVE

 

 

I love you openly

But you cannot see this

Because you are looking

In the wrong direction

Just turn around now

 And you will see.

 

I love you quietly

But you cannot hear this

Because you are listening

 In the deafness of silence

Listen for our love now

And you will hear.

 

I love you completely

But yo...

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Also by Ian Beckett:

Nothing Ever After | Love Life | Comfort in patterns | Slow motion |

LoveD'AmoreD'AmourAmor

Minor Sin

(A re-post for Hallowe'en)

 

The mission’s not impossible; it is not even hard;

I just enact the script for Him - a player, nothing more;

It’s happened in the future once it’s become His Word,

Which is to purge creation of the Babylonian Whore.

 

She worms her way through history, corrupted to the core;

In Adam’s fated fall from grace his gender she infects;

...

Read and leave comments (3)

Also by John Coopey:

A World Turned Upside-Down | Milliband | Today's Wedding | Wtf? | "For These" said the father "Are The Things A Boy Should Know" | Rugby Fatboy Blues | Venn Diagram | I Collect Money |

CORRIE AND JOHN (after Joan Hunter Dunn)

 

 

Miss Corfield, Miss Corfield, we’re destined as one

You a wood nymph, I a woodworkers son.

We both vibrate airwaves of Radio 4

You live and vivacious! I dead as a door.

 

With nasal enhancement and vamp-throated quirk

You take mundane news and you set it to work

Stirring old men, from straw hat to galoshes

Till backward and forth, my sawdust-blood slo...

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Also by Barrie Singleton:

BRAWN DRAIN | BLANKETY BLANK SLATE (directed infant rage 2012) | RENEWAL | DEAR DIARY (Mother Nature) | SHE WHO HAS TO OBEY | Y-FRONT (from the archive) | DECLINE AND FALL (this one for the longlinists) | MMMM (For all you shortlinists) | SWITCHED ON | WASH DAY STRAGGLER (Betjeman mode) | DARK SIDE | RIGHT OF THE UNCONCEIVED | RAGE OF INNOCENCE (All due respect to Dylan Thomas) | Workshopping Seamus |

Betjemanparody

".. beyond the gate ?"



Is that you, beyond the gate?
I would turn, is someone there?
And a whisper, did you whisper?

Such thoughts, indistinct, troubled.
It cannot be you. The grave is cold.
And the casket, yes the casket,
Must be so old, so very old.

Yet you were there, beyond the gate.
I simply let go of your hand.
The memory just faded. A whisper?
Or your weakened laugh.

And no...

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Just in chaos

With their welfare reforms being constantly revised.
I wonder, did they hear our defenceless citizens' cries?
Or are they just in chaos?
 
People forced to choose between food and heat
Did they mean to bring our poor a-begging at some banker's feet?
Or are they just in chaos?
 
Public servants suffer under a two year pay freeze.
Did they really just forget to...

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🌷(1)

Also by Mark Mr T Thompson:

Electromagnetic Legacy - No More Choice On FM |

Chaosgovernment

Another Two Line Horror Story

I look into the mirror, an old Woman is staring back at me!

AHH!, oh wait, it's just me.

 

 

HA! HA!

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Also by Shirley Smothers:

Two Line Scary Story |

funnyhorrorlineScarrystorytwo

All Hallows Eve

All Hallows Eve

 

Gnarled tree roots claw from the ground

scratching over disturbed graves.

Pumpkins grin their toothless snarl,

fleshy tongues of seed and fibre.

The spectral drift of chilling mist

that prods and pokes at exposed flesh.

Somewhere a creature of the night

mewls in whimpering ecstasy

 

Dank leaves of autumn line the paths

as little ...

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Also by Ian Whiteley:

Night Scented Stock | In The Arms Of Morpheus | Full Contact | the cuckoo waltz | Graffiti | Winterfylleth (October) | Thirty Plus Years In An Open Necked Shirt |

all hallows evechilds imaginationhalloweenimaginationlonely womanold womanwitchwitches cottage

If You Don't Like The Record -Change it!

If you hate your job

-Resign!

If you don’t like where you live

-Leave!

If you’re stuck in some kind of groove

-Move!

If you don’t like the record

-Change it!

 

If you’re not happy outside

-go inside!

If you don’t like to drive

-Walk!

If you don’t want to be quiet

-Talk!

If you can’t bear to be still

-Shake it!

 

If your lif...

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Also by Steve Higgins:

Badgers! | Goodbye Girl | The Spirit of The Tree |

life

Crest

Deep.  Deep in thelemic thought, her

words spill sour, salted by a power

that cowers and spits, shoaling rocks

into desolate fetch, coveting a polyandry.

 

Exiled.  Exiled she lies, and lies. Coursed

and cobbled. Smooth blissful pebbles

that awake wrecked memories, and hopes

of calm oceans being neither here or there.   

 

Caught. Caught in a squall ‘twix...

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Also by Katy Megan:

Just For Today |

lovelove poetrylove poem

What next?

 

Now the demonstration
Where 50,000 people
Rained the streets of Manchester
Has been regulated
To a sentence on Page 21
Of the Daily Mirror
WHAT NEXT?

 

What of those
Whose benefits have?
Been cut because
Of the Bedroom tax
And are straying
Closer and closer
To the breadline
Or worse
WHAT NEXT?

 

What of my friend Cath’s daughter
Who while wait...

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Also by Gray Nicholls:

Regarding the BBC's lack of coverage... |

Love or Lie

 

You have lied to make me feel special,

I don't need your tainted charm,

Your contaminated feelings

Bring emotional harm !!

 

I am afraid of emptiness,

Our friendship no longer true

But I wonder if i can stand alone

Without thinking about you.

 

Disease of your affection is spreading like plague,

Your beauty like a virus attacking violently.

...

Read and leave comments (2)

Also by SATYAJIT BEHERA:

The Train Girl:A Meeting or Coincidence |

Ann FoxgloveGreg Freeman

PRISONER BY CHOICE

PRISONER BY CHOICE
 
Late?  
It is always late when I come to this place.
This place that harbors my soul.
 
Alone?
How could it be any other way?
Not my choice.
Totally my choice.
 
Dark?
I like it dark.
No, I need it to be dark so I will not see the pain.
The pain that will not leave me in peace.
The pain I seek.
 
Quiet?
...

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Remembered Hallowe’ens of Childhood

I dream of Hallowe’en when we were children:

No transatlantic pumpkin at our sides

But turnip dug by dad from frost-streaked garden

And carved with care with chore-dulled kitchen knife

Till gaping, gap-toothed grin emerged. Then, skewered

By knitting needle, safe-secured by string,

With stub of candle craftily inserted

In hot-wax solder, to secure its grip.

 

...

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Halloween

How to tell a joke -Advice given to a Lady-

                                               How to tell a joke 
                                           -Advice given to a Lady-

PREAMBLE- Know your audience
                 Know your subject

Write out your joke in full
Read it aloud many times
Remove all diversions
Check for confused references
Ensure you have a command of the required terminology
Try not to get ...

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Also by Tommy Carroll:

...and in conclusion | Blackened berries |

Vodka

 
 
Dribbling down
my world half eaten by the running
sound of water in my brain -
there is some thought invested
wrong.
 
It is furious
for those women that cackle
in my make-up bag;
picking them out one by one,
to rub their tenderness on my skin
where it flakes off in places.
 
A mirror is mistaken;
the wrong side of a hemisphere
...

Read and leave comments (5)

Also by Marianne Daniels:

For everything | They Put Milk in the Rain. |

Never See A Nipple...

 

(with apologies to John Cooper Clarke)

 

 

Beheadings are acceptable, boobs are bad

the female form’s fantastic but only when it’s clad

we’re blasé about bullying, laissez-faire on lust

but our patriarch goes postal if the news feed shows a bust

sign on, log in, no matter where you look

you’ll never see a nipple on facebook.

 

We’ve made a Faustian ...

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Also by steve pottinger:

Lampedusa |

facebook

The manikin and the mannequin

Four years old, 

meandering Marksies with mum,

following the fancy of his feet, 

the manikin sees the mannequin.

Is drawn, fascinated.

Stands before the bikini-clad female figure

as if in worship.

Reaches out and touches.

Touches the cloth,

touches the naughty bits,

the .....would you call it skin?

His mother, my daughter-in-law,

is splitting her ...

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Also by Dave Bradley:

The Autumn Season | Competition. Touch and go | Touching the hem of the robe |

Touch and Go

What is it with transport? What is it with men?

- this title should make me remember again

the plentiful misdeeds suffered in Spain

when I was a student, taking the train

I wasn't a beauty, no great femme fatale

just a studious, book wormy, meek kind of gal

totally green to the word 'machismo'

and how it gave vent to the game 'touch and go'

often a finger, a palm...

Read and leave comments (13)

Touch and Go Comp

Forever Let This Place Here Be

Forever let this place here be
A warning to humanity,
A cry of despair, suffering;
Death in total, unrelenting.
Forever let its soil be bare,
For life shall grow not anywhere,
This place, a scar upon the face
Of mans wickedness, mans disgrace.

Forever let this place here stand
As evidence of evil planned,
A barren wasteland, void of hope,
Where many left in clouds of sm...

Read and leave comments (5)

Also by Simon Austin:

Purpose | Hitman |

AuschwitzDeathHistoryHolocaustHumanityPoemTreblinka

My Scrabble Bag Is Empty

My Scrabble Bag Is Empty

 

I wanted a G

To thank God

For knowing you

 

I needed an O

To operate as if

Everything was okay

 

Another O

And I could have said

If only

 

A letter D

Then I could see

Your name for one last time

 

With the letter B

Then beautiful thoughts

Could have been shared

 

If only I had the ...

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Also by Jim Pitt:

Three thirty-three | It Has To Start Somewhere.... |

The Climb

The folly of the climb

Black rocks gaze at the blue light

Shines through crystal glass

A polluted mineral underground

Collapsed with dignity

Under the influence of a memory.

 

The darkened peace continued

On the banks of our fair hill

A cough heard, a click

As the night brings on a warning

And all is silent

Oh, the folly of the climb.

Read and leave comments (1)

Also by David Blake:

Birdbath |

2011

Crash

the kettle sings loudly 

and clicks off

water ready to make a brew

delivered thoughtfully and sincerely

into the lounge

to the table in front of the TV

with a smile

 

and then

back to the kitchen

explosive tears

jetting into clenched hands

face jammed against the cold sink

gut screaming –

What songs there were to sing!

Plays to act!

Students to tea...

Read and leave comments (3)

OPUS

OPUS

 

You can’t walk away from all that you are,

No matter how hard you may try,

You can lock away truth in an iron clad box,

But you must not admit to the lie.

 

Whatever you are and whatever the pain,

What is given is that you are bound,

And in truth we are melodies lost on the wind,

In the torture of discordant sound.

 

It’s better to face it ...

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Between The Hats

I have outgrown both the years

and the clothes

which had my name sewn into them

this doesn’t mean I no longer need help

to figure out who I am

my gloves are no longer twinned

by umbilical wool

but I appreciate you holding my hand

while leading me through this cold weight

I am living in those times

between hats

though if god were bothered to look

h...

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ageingfearregret

Head of Steam Station Bar

 
Waiting at the  Head of Steam with a foaming pint
 
Eastwood’s Nettle Thrasher
 
Waiting for a train
 
With a poet from Barnsley
 
Macmillan, not a nurse
 
A poet, on a train
 
 
 
Train arrives, late I remember
 
With a poet from Barnsley
 
Alliteration in Huddersfield
 
Blank Verse to Berry Brow
 
Pa...

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The Demise of the Library (or, Xanadu Deceased)

Part 1

Thought I’d pay a visit to a place that kept me sane during trying years of living as a child.  My latest craze, Ray Bradbury, was draining me of funds and I could not afford to buy him any more. It was then that I recalled a special place.  The library, that library, my Xanadu from childhood; where I grew up, my special little haven from the world.

 

How precious it was.  Th...

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Also by Laura Taylor:

Assembly |

Notes following meeting Mon 14 Oct 2013

Hi Maggie, John and Nigel

A palindrome is "a word or phrase that reads the same backwards as forwards, eg: madam".

William Ross Wallace 1819 - 1881 (Wallace was my Mum's maiden name so maybe I have some sort of illustrious ancestor?!) wrote "The Hand That Rocks The Cradle Rules The World". I've just printed it off as it really is rather beautiful (and John, it rhymes!!!)

Last of all...

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Dawn prayer.

It was late at night and God was ardent,

red hot and the window was open. If nothing

else my soft blue eyes cooled me down.

 

First I must tell the truth 'I love you'

'What?'

'I love you'

'Don't tell me such awful things!' O what a disorder. My spirit is her spirit and I cannot run from myself!

It is you I have loved all this time...Our love will quiet man...

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Also by Danny Metcalfe:

Naked angel | Paradise witch. |

Human Wreckage

See their faces so jaded

With all the torturous barking they hear

Over and over and over again

Assaulting their innocent ears

Our mouths keep spitting out poison

There’s bile wrapped in every word

After all these years of affection

How did our love become so absurd?

 

And I hope, just hope

You sleep sound and safe in your single bed on this night

I kn...

Read and leave comments (2)

lovedivorcepsychologycryingsplitchildrendamagesleepscreamingtendernesshurt

The Poetic Bond III

PRESS RELEASE PRESS RELEASE PRESS RELEASE PRESS RELEASE PRESS RELEASE PRESS RELEASE

THE POETIC BOND III, ISBN 978-1492384199, published 5 October 2013

Poetry of the MOMENT, from across the PLANET, poetry of our WORLD

Poetry that documents the Contemporary Zeitgeist

Poetry that explores, illuminates and examines the Human Condition

POETRY THAT BONDS US

Poetry from

Br...

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Poetic BondTrevor MaynardPoetryAnthologylovesocietyhuman condition

Little Postmen

The summer yawns and death draws close;

these yellow lawns are flecked by ghosts

 

which hidden with the sun last night,

have risen to their hair turned white.

 

The granddaughters blow flower clocks

in ignorance her time has stopped

 

and moments have become diffuse -

the little postmen bring bad news:

 

how breathlessly she’s borne away

bare...

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At The Bombed-out Church

 

 

At The Bombed-Out Church (Liverpool)

 

Burnt rafter stubs pock blast-nudged brick,

Wan plaster scabs an irrelevant pattern,

Choir stalls are stripped to their roots

In a barren tiled floor, All blown to blazes

by Nazi bombs. Emptiness

Is the memorial to pious songs.

Cold is the wind through the nave,

Warm the fusion of your hand in mine,

As we...

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new poetry published

Three of my poems - Refugee from the Past, Noir Scene and Land’s End have all appeared on this online magazine here

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Costa Coffee

For Natalie

 

‘…Youth and I are housemates still’

Coleridge

 

Youth and age, yet what unites us still is this:

We both know to ask for skinny milk and watch the

Calorie count on the cakes and pastries;

 

And we know that they never ask you if you

Want small, only ‘Medium or large?’ and that

If you say thank you, they say ‘Enjoy your drink’.

 

...

Read and leave comments (0)

Pounds, shillings and pence Each end of the month losing cents

Pounds, shillings and pence

Each end of the month losing cents

 

The cat stares with horror at Aldi’s own

She doesn’t understand we can afford to put warheads on Trident

Aimed at no one

But not on our plate

 

 

Pounds, shillings and pence

Each end of the month losing cents

 

 

I make a mixture of leftovers from the cupboard

Pasta, sugar, ...

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Toilet

https://soundcloud.com/chris-coey-poetry/toilet

 

 

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Jungles

 

 

  They are coming with the needle They think they are being kind Sending me back to The jungles of my mind.   There are creatures in the forest, I can feel them closing in Screaming in my mind In a brain jarring din. The fire is burning well Sending out heat and light Keeping at bay  Those creatures of...

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Also by terry ireland:

Just Passing Water |

FantasyNight sleep terrorsfeartrappedmental illness

Show more entries …

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