There is a beauty in solitude only the solitary know. There is a sadness in being lonely, only the lonely can know. In solitude and loneliness, in beauty and sadness, the most beautiful poetry of feeling can be known. Indefinable, inexpressible, Oceanic bliss-like satori. A brief enlightenment when the light breaks through the darkness, a glint, a hint of perfect, untouched beauty perfect a...

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                                                            Auryn’s Heartbeat

 

 

 

We are neither always good, or all powerful,

We are not the strength of fossil bone,

We are not the taking of each death

To ends of Earth,

We are not as individuals – the globe!

 

 

 

            We are not infinite, immortal or timeless

Within a shroud of silence,

...

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Hi All,
New open floor poetry night in Chester!
The details are- "The Cellar Door", 7.30pm every 1st Monday of the month @ The Bear and Billett Pub on Lower Bridge Street, Chester. (top floor).

However in December it is held on 2nd December due to bookings at the venue.
Look Forward to seeing you there!
Please spread the word !
Take care.

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THE PENSIONERS ARE HERE

You can see them,

As dawn breaks,

Shuffling down the street,

One goal,one purpose,

To sniff out fresh meat,

 

Eyes burning with bitterness

Evil desires that can't be sated,

A picture of pure wickedness,

 hearts consumed by hatred

 

I could bludgeon them to death,

I could wring their scrawny necks,

I cou...

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let us love like foxes love

screeching in the night

let us love like foxes love

hiding from moonlight

they are locked together

in their act of love

with love’s arrows pinned together

coupling foxes cannot move

if man fox rips from woman fox

he might tear out her heart

let us love like foxes love

crying in the dark

don’t interrupt the foxes

in their desperate love play

let us love l...

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"rose"

sprouts from a soldier's lips,

stretched out on a centipede's back,

knowing every coroner is a breathe navigating

myself up a spider's bath.

Our words are lovers, my love;

a path of slippers whispering, lost

traipsing in fierce barnicles,

communes of moths hurting in the dark

painting memory with a lick of tact,

longing for sleep and the labyrinths

of us

and the rust of promises...

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It stalks, that stalk

That veiny beast

Claims victims in the dark

Malevolence is manifest

Each time it meets its mark

And thus succumbs

Another gate,

A portal to the truth

Consigned the virgin innocence

To the memory of youth.

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based on my mad dreams from last night after having too much beer and watching the stunning nick cage film Knowing too. this came to me and drunkenly i did it in my phone and then wrote it out. i cant ever tell the gal coz she wont wanna know. i believe we'll be together in another life. but i want her now but she not want me. such is life.

 

 

ECHO CLASS

What strange dreams I have. Of HM, of ...

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.....hello......testing (THIS IS NOT A POEM- PLEASE DO NOT COMMENT) ......testing......hello.....(am I really doing this?...I should be poking sticks at the weather...)......testing comment disablement procedure......please enable the 'tick' should you require comments to be posted......(god I thought I ticked all the right boxes.....but he did....apparently)...testing.....hello.....(PLEASE DO NOT...

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A     Fly in the Butter

 

I love a word

            Whose position can

                            Confound the sense

                                                            Of syntax plan

 And leave a phrase

            On its fine sound preening

                            Quite ambiguous

                                            As...

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PRO-ARTICULATED LADDERS 

(for those who feel the shopping catalogues overstate their products.

Image: allthe sky.com)

 

Insomnia wakes the dreamer,

 Blinking through double-glazed eyes,

 Up from the warmy bed

She searches winter’s frosty skies.

Padding across carpeted floors,

 Past polished dresser

And out of the door,

 She carries her pro-articulated ladder.

Up against the eves the...

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You say you love me,
but you don't know me.
You will never see
who I'm to be.

Four days past.
Your love can't last.
You went too fast.
Now, I'm past.

My mind,
my heart
you can't find
or tear apart.

Now, I will disappear,
slip through your fear
because I can't stay here.
Destiny lies beyond the clear.

Untitled (Based on an old poem)
by, Melissa R. Mendelson

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What shall we have for tea, my love?

I don’t fancy the chippy an it’s not fridey night anyway.

I ad beans on toast for brekkie

Which wer very nice, by the way

Love to love your brekkie.

 

How ‘bout a chinky-poo, my love?

And yeah, I know we were at the buffet the other day

But it’ well nice, well tasty and...

Ok, we don’t ‘ave the do, reh, me.

 

Oh, oh, oh, my ...

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The new Streetwise 2000 'Head Wobble' book number 2, 'Where Is Your Head At?' has just been launched.

Myself and many other young people have contributed to this handbook that gives personal insights, poems and information on many different conditions and problems that young people may face.

If you would like an example of my poetry/ educational writing or know any young people who would benefit...

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Artist supporting Artist

Supporting Art

 

Not underground

Not under the radar

But above it.

 

Creative.

 

Artist supporting artist

Paintings on the wall

Not hanging by a thread

Not hung at all

But painted onto it.

 

The wall being the backdrop

On which the artisan paints

The back ground

For every artist’s palette.

 

Etchings, sketchings,

Lines and hills

Dips and gullies

 

C...

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Global warming

Ozone breakdown

Melting ice

Animal extinction

Islands lost to sea

Tsunami

Shifting plates

Lava flow

That tomorrow’s today away

That tomorrow’s today away

 

A child is born

Cry of uncertainty

Tear in mother’s eye

Searing heat

Unforgiving wind

Fly’s swarm

No rain, only pain

Crops fail, again

No food, no milk

Infant die

That tomorrow’s today away

That tomorrow’...

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These shamans with their second sight

might tell you they are guided-

by misted past lives,

future spirits,

a distant queen,

a prophet....

or two.

They will wring their hands,

face the awful agony of clairvoyance-

annoyance and blessing they say,

heads shaking

with the pain of it all.

 

Cross my palm-

for the next hour

on my carousel of wonder

you will sit-

and in a bit

I will te...

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Tragedy

Tragedy me,

Oh alas

You can see it in my face

I made the wrong choices listening to all those negative voices

That I followed and swallowed like a chocolate cup cake whole

Instead of letting it pass my lips

Or spitting it out

I doubt I will ever be able to sort it out

I traded love for alienation

Work for boredom

Depression saturates me like vinega...

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the usual Texas chain saw massacre scenario

one day I’m really going to have to deal with my problems
if anything they ruin my dreams
I prefer tropical shores and love making dreams
not blood dripping
hanging on the edge for deal life dreams,
in some I even die.
I suppose I have got used to them
the horror always hurts, but its familiarity becomes is its own enemy
its little Achilles’ heel.
seems theres dra...

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you smell me....

 

from the fragrance of my cologne....

 

 

you hear me......

 

whispering in your ears sensual words of love...

 

 

you see me......

 

in the corner of your eyes........

 

 

you touch me.....

 

when you are asleep dreaming at night....

　

 

it hurts me.....

to know your all alone without me to hold you tight.....

 

(c)2009 jeff.w

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Descending panting from the top
(where god is always in the lower case)
The wind bleached lichen
gives way to greener stuff.
We re-assert a modicum of breathless grace
and skirt the bog (why is such a vastness called a 'mere'?)
much as we skirt the subject
never managing to reach the nub of it.

At the bridge we part
before all our alibis expire.
In your face the rumour of a tear
and I am just a hank of woo...

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I want this
More than you perhaps know
The promise of peace
The seduction of your grace

Am I caught like an insect
Unable or unwilling to escape?
Your embrace closes around me
Like the venus fly trap
And I am on the verge of surrender.

The reality of past hurt rings
Like alarm bells in my deafened ears
But silence grows
And I am drawn
Like a moth to a flame.

All consuming, all forgiving
The taste of your l...

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                      The Taj Mahal

                      Stands before me.

                      White and pure

                      Its slender minarets

                      Reaching to the heavens

                      Its  jewelled mirrored eyes

                      Glinting in the dying light.

                      Perfectly symmetrical

        ...

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I stir from my sleep the feelings are there

As I draw my morning breath my minds in despair

The gnawing and the clawing on my guts they take revenge

These demons that haunt me they never seem to lend

To lend respite to my dilemma

They just burn like glowing embers

Taking over my mind it feels so never ending

As I go on pretending and pretending

Pretending that I'm trying when inside I feel...

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(sung)

‘What’s it all about - Alfie?

Is it just for the moment we live?’

 

What’s it all about?

 

Catholics know

That it’s all in a piece of bread

The breaking of and the partaking of

Transubstantiation is a very long word

Can you spell it?

And I’d so love to join them

But bless me, I can’t

 

Born agains know

As they jump in and out of water

Praising the lord and trying oh so ha...

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From an almost comfortable battered saddle

I straddle a pale camargue mare

Balanced by boots of Spanish leather

 

In low water stretching to the sun

A flamingo dancer in feathery sunset pink

Cast her net for blushing shrimp

 

Salty sweated hide and sea kale scents

Subside as afternoon’s stored energies run out

Grey stillness descends

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THE CLEETHORPES TREATY

Politicians got their

treaties mixed up.

They agreed for

Cleethorpes to be

the capital of Europe

and for Jedward

to be the new President.

 

There was no referendum.

 

'The Sun' was appalled

because they had no influence over it.

They shifted their allegiances

to Skegness and

'Strictly Come Dancing' instead.

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Just a quick shout-out to say that Friday's Poetry Kapow was a handsomely-dressed bunch of poetry fun. Thanks to our open-mic poets, featured artists, contributors of STUFF, light and sound and bar-folk, documentors, fortune-teller (!), and other willing punters and participants. Video and audio recording will be available soon. Thanks to photographer Anna Berry for her stunning gallery of the eve...

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Red plimsolls, step outside.

 

Gold, green, auburn and burgundy

permeate pavements, walls.

 

Palms, fingers – caress Magnus the cat: His eyes smoulder.

 

Squirrels forage, tails like ships

in a whirlpool of leaves.

 

Black and white collie scarpers past

trees splutter.

 

Red plimsoll’s step inside

They Squelch. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Signs

 

Mother says I eat fast when I’m unhappy,

Like I have got used to there being no time.

She looks for signs like this

Knowing that only after

Will she find out what was wrong,

Pours the wine, loosens tongues,

Serves up all the desserts I have ever loved.

Th...

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The wind blows wild as Rooks explode

In buffeted delight.

Spreading their wings into the squall

In roistering, reckless flight.

Their swirling tangled dance of joy

Proclaims a mastery

Of three dimensional excess

And death to Gravity.

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Feast of New Fire, as Sun’s Moon swells in sky.

Then Earth’s Moon, as seeds sprout under soil.

Balance Day and Night: New Life Feast, Moon of Eggs.

Dangerfire: Lucky’s Moon; Green leaf and grass blade.

Moon of Blossoms, Moon of Bees, for Lith at Solstice.

Sky’s Moon: sun is overfull, but Look not Sadly.

Gatherer’s Moon: Set store by, like squirrel.

Balance Night and Day: Windy Moon blows...

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Long lost they lay beneath the ice
in which their skated feet had cut a slice
as they once pirouetted together in delight
on a sparkling winters moonlight night.

The press would say they ran from view
and for a week or more theories anew
of where they went and how they slipped
past those that this accident had tricked

Pressed together their souls entwined
all troubles past, think of them kind
for such ...

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If logic is reason

And reason is perceptive

Then it is perfectly logical

To perceive reason

As individual experience.

 

Because one logic battle's another's

For ultimate experience of reason

And for unknown reason's

They all experience righteousness

Through reasoned perception's of previous experience's.

In mathematics this is known as unknown 'x'

 

So.....

If i perceive my own ex...

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It came on swift wings.
A whisper.
A soft caress
that smoothed the colour
from her cheeks
and painted her lips
with twilight.
Sweet jasmin breath
ruefully swept
with a gentle hush  
amongst warm auburn tresses,
playfully ruffling
and settling,
sweetly serene.
Unafraid,
the sun slips
effortlessly
behind the horizon
to joyous farewell,
as an orchestra
of Cicadas
take up their wings
in harmony
to perform
their final s...

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Everyone is,

more

or less

that's the way it is

it's hidden but

obvious

naturally we pretend

and dissimulate, but

life exposes us and

love outflanks us, and

youth is no defence

How can we live seventy years without

understanding?

nothing learned, no insight

gained as to how we are

relentlessly driven.

yet change is possible.

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We have finally settled for the night
Sleep last on the list

The wait is on to find words succinct but sweet
That will settle and soothe us to sleep

A significant silence stretches out before us
It seems to go on for an eternity
I wait, revelling in its poignancy

Not willing for false sentiment
I’ll wait for words that ring true

Finally the wait seems to be over,
Your cough punct...

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The radio clicks on; John Humphries yaks about Afghanistan
Hell man! Does it ever stop?
The light calls through the curtains laughing about a bright winter morning.

You are warm and languorous next to me
But you don’t want to move; trapped by our tangled limbs.
This morning it will be me that brings us tea to sip whilst we talk in bed.

The big black dog has left and in it’s place
A small wiry terrier sh...

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https://share.acrobat.com/adc/document.do?docid=6da9be2a-cb3c-4e6a-81de-347074ea8d09

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This is the prize puzzle poem, as read at November's RVOM. It is created from adapted famous last words. There are 10 sets of famous last words, can you guess what they are and/or who uttered them?

******************

Last Words,
For most of us what will they be?
"What bus?"
"Ouch"
Or simply: "Shit"

And what of 'Famous' last words?
Of friends applauding when the comedy is over?
Going to sleep?
Of being b...

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Final Appointment

I felt the walls
move in like
a Tortoise on speed
when you told
me that again.


I could hear
the birds stop singing.


I could hear
cars suddently stop.


Dogs stop barking
to be let in.


Cats no longer
scratching walls.


Trains no longer making
buildings shake
like a kettle
about to explode.


All I could hear
was my heart
with a faint beat
which was then
skittled down
like a strike
in a bowling alley
when you ...

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The maiden lay a-sleeping

Her body warm and tender

It was that of a female

Indeed that was her gender

 

The evil one did spy her

As she did softly doze

He pulled out his red hanky

And blew more than his nose

 

The fair maiden kept on dreaming

Of beautious wonders hence

Whilst Satan eyed her lustily

His nerves becoming tense

 

He pulled out his stiff penis

And hoped she would not wa...

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I wait

For your elucidation.

Your distant light,

to illuminate

the labyrinth of words

you lead me down.

My silent screams echo

as your needle pierces

and your shadow

is tattooed onto my skin.

You hold taut the threads

as you weave

your erratic Gabbeh.

Dragging me through

the warp and weft

of your distant life.

You hook me again and again,

...

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Mike was there in the
 shadows of the youth hut
music throbbing the air.
He was there by the
camp fire glow
watching me.

The ribbons of life
 curled around me
for seeing his face
and lean form
and the sky
glistened with stars.

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I smelt your perfume in the lift today,

Felt my cheek brushed by an invisible rose,

Your touch  and your scent, then the doors

Closed like blades ,cutting off that memory

Before my eyes , but worse, leaving as one shred

The hope, un-amputatable as a curse,

That you had just got out one floor below.

 So I press  the button to go down,

The doors slide back once more

I step  o...

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While making a cup of tea

And looking at the kettle

I was led to dwell on the magic of electricity

Factory farmed lightning

Caged in a flex

And remembered the advice

My mother always gave

To never stand under a tree

During a thunderstorm

 

With hindsight

I tend to think

She could have offered some advice

That would have been more useful

On a day to day basis

 

On the other hand

I’...

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The ending

was never far away,

it began with you

in that time of

love and loss in

old Bangkok Town.

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Bobby Dylan

 

I wrote to Bob Dylan

a little while back.

I just wanted him to know

how much his music

inspired me,

and that I’ve always kept track

of his highs and his lows,

every line, every lick.

 

I’ve tried to live my life,

I said,

in the spirit of his songs.

‘The Times They Are a-Changin’’

Inspirational lyrics,

buried in my head,

for so long,

constantly changing.

 

I thou...

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This is a children's poem for a change. Please indulge me. I wrote it while I was working as a postman.

Tom interrupted a marbles match

To tell his mates the news

It was a proper tense one too

For a beaut and some big-eye blues

“You best come quick” he breathless said

Interrupting Billy’s turn

“The whole estate’s infested with

The dreaded Pink Ring Worm!”

 

They left...

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