A Miscreant Yearns

A soul’s cry, released in words— chosen, picked, woven in quiet longing.

And there, in articulation, beauty finds its form...

The soul, unbound, bridges a gap, touching both heart and mind.

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Slim and athletic looking

dressed in black lycra

hair in a pony

she emerges holding a book

no doubt something quite rare.

Breaking into a run

everything moves in unison

except her pony.

I call out to her

but my words are lost on the air.

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Miles between, yet souls align,
He’s the moon, and still he’s mine.

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Every day I awake to a blank slate
upon which the hieroglyphics of fate
make their mark and spark a reaction
in me. Nature or Nurture? Genetics
or the Environment? Heaven sent?
or just somewhere to rent?
Written in the stars? Or, twisted by chance?

Let us make the best of it,
let us inject some zest into it

Reach for the stars, be kind: reject
Inshallah, God’s will, no bette...

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Dear friends!

      Read my poem in the comments.

                         Regards

                         Larisa

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The Seventh Whistler (after William Wordsworth)

for World Curlew Day April 21st 2025 

By slough and marsh my dog commits

to muck and fun on coastal walk

swathed on our way through rugged fields

in Cumberland’s old mizzled cloak.

Until a statue he became,

as through sea mist the air was split      

with ghostly cry from unlit worlds:

the seventh whistler on th...

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Eminent forces give rise to this world. Graceful swaying and warm pulsating are a parapet to access the sublime.

Springs flow, enamoured with their own concerns, Courses assembled in inertia, consumed of only what has been.

As I rest, all else continues. As it always was. Belying a darkness we cannot see beyond. This native impression is all I have to give.

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light drizzle taunts me to step outside

stopping and starting in half-hearted

chaotic random showers, its laughter

a mocking feeble hiss on the paths,

the sky is a dour threadbare grey, which

necessitates the kitchen light being on

for breakfast, a hark back to winter,

a stiff breeze circles around the house

like an inquisitive expectant crowd,

my days of denying the...

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Staring at your puffy face in the cot,

I realize all the hurt I’ve been carrying in my heart.

Forgive me, my dear child; I suppose I didn’t know,

Didn’t know that the ghosts of my past still haunt me, even now.

Forgive me, my dear child, 

If I’m unable to love you maternally—with tenderness and warmth,

To love you like other children are loved.

Forgive me, my child, 

If tra...

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A mysterious force once ruled the minds of chemists — Phlogiston, the invisible essence of fire. But as precision met curiosity, a new truth emerged from the flames. This poetic elegy wants to trace the rise and fall of a forgotten theory, and the spark that ignited modern science.
 

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My school bag used to be torn.
My mother patiently sewed it,
stitch by stitch, she arranged it neatly,
connecting one side to the other, she made it whole again.

She said that sewing is a way to be grateful for what we have,
so it won’t end up as something forgotten,
but remain as something cherished.

As I grew up,
I began to practice what she taught.
One by one, I sewed the rips I ha...

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Regard your hands with disgust.

Idle, they are the tools of wicked thought...

Your mind wanders the contours of things forbidden,

misused, it writes a script for dormant horrors...

the seed and the active ingredient repel,

whilst psychopathic imagination permits all...

the membrane of restraint is gossamer thin...

a butterfly wing betwixt heaven and hell

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(with acknowledgements to Cubby Broccoli)

We’ve a new allotment holder

Just retired from MI6

Wears a Beretta on his shoulder

Calls our lady members “chicks”

Drives a silver coloured DB5

He won’t get much in that

When he has to transport compost

From his Docklands penthouse flat

He takes his Martini shaken,

In his shed he keeps a score

Of days spent with psych...

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Destination unknown destination unknown 
Lost in this crazy world I roam
Zero zero compass or direction 
Just need some guidance and affection
One day I'm gonna see the light
No no destination in sight 

I eat up the endless pavements
As I walk and stride my worry away
Devouring the gruelling roads
As I run and keep grief at bay
Swallowing the countryside whole 
As I ramble on random d...

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Sometimes she got impatient, angry.

The girl that came in was late, or different

today and didn’t know where things lived.

In there, she would say, next to the fridge.

She’d want to do it herself, but it took

five minutes just to stand up, get her balance.

Simple tasks became impossible;

pulling the top off the tea caddy,

carry a drink without spilling.

S...

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We mark the historic 80th anniversary of VE Day,

A tribute to those who fought. for the freedom we enjoy today.

We celebrate 80 years of peace since the end of World War 11,

Reaffirming our commitment to world war peace for our future  generations too.

A powerful reminder of the resilience and unity that have brought our nation together,

Reaffirming our commitment for our futur...

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I had the best dream

Where I was out to my dad

And we were

Laughing at responses

That my teachers had

One teacher said that 

My egg was cracked

And that’s true

But it has been 

Since I met him

Although those two things

Have no correlation

I mean when I had him 

it was online school

he never made do anything 

Because he was cool

So I spent m...

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There's pads that you find on a puppy dog's feet

There's pads that are cushions on your three-piece suite

There's pads that you write on sheet after sheet

To these though I now have to add

My fucking incontinence pad.

When younger my dotage I thought through and planned

I knew that my hour glass would one day lose sand

And that, for example, my waist would expand

But w...

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Marseille

“Absurdity is purity my loves” said the wise Monsieur Sinclair to his pupils. “Yet the creativity in the nuances is but a ripple upon the fabric of time.” They all applauded having no idea what the hell he means. But they love it anyway. Cerebral confusion to make one think. Is there meaning in this, is there meaning in anything at all?

 Young Pierre Dellatonte sauntered home that ...

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Nothing came easy, 15/4/89 the date.

For every bit of truth, they made us wait.

Stuck together like glue, skilled in lying.

The first lie was told as fans were dying.

Duckenfield said fans stormed the Gate.

‘Ticketless, drunken fans, arriving late’

Some media lapped it up, mainly The Sun.

Everlasting damage to our City was done.

On mass, the fuckers threw their m...

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Beautiful to be fallen in a love with you my beloved

A union two twin flames

theirs
one old soul’s
shared nostalgia

about
our actions, how we react
an intertwined mind
quale, in the way we act
an ordeal with life
born into circumstance

chaotic
the conundrum
all of the elements and alignments required
the complexity of an immaculate conception
the manifestation of a woman and...

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BLANK SLATE

I took an O. D. which they said was genius of me

to survive but coming back down I lost the ability

to ejaculate. I came down from a great height

to the goldfish bowl of quotidian consciousness;

to status life detail; to the boring smell of water;

to the daily soap opera which we all float through

in a state of endlessly contemporary amnesia -

but some...

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Other night cliambimg the walls and yet I still feel as low as the floor 

Other night pacing up and down going know fast 

Other night of no sleep dreaming of all the things I could do to them people who disgust me 

Does your false postion help you sleep 

Does judging me make you feel bigger 

I do apologise for its ke whos about to judge 

Isn't ot crazy how big the world is yet I ...

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america belong to america
america belong to a city nation
america belong to the streets of america
america belong to the streets of a city nation
the streets of america is the streets of a city nation
the streets is the violence of america
the streets is the violence of a city nation

a city nation is a country nation
a city nation is a glory city nation
violence is a glory violence
vio...

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‘FASCINATION’

By the Urban Poet

She fascinates me, challenges me

Every time I see her, or think of her

I’m fascinated

She only has to look at me or make a sound

and I’m dumbstruck, mumble a few futile words, and make my excuses

What I know about her is very little,

but fascinating all the same

Her look, tone of voice, elegant demeanour

Who wouldn’t be fascinated?

I...

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​​​​​ñ Pa se liefde vir sy seun

Droewige verdriet

dit is al wat ek voel

Was alles verniet?

is die vraag wat oor my spoel

My kind jy is my als

jy moet dit weet

Al leer ander jou vals

ek sal jou nooit vergeet

Ek sal jou beskerm

tot einde van dae

Die ander kan maar kerm

in my arms sal ek jou dra

Dit wat jy deurgaan

is nie jou las om te dra

D...

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https://youtu.be/s-VRyQprlu8

There we go, astair. I feel like, I should be at stake. Sometimes: One life for the road; Two nights for deliverance. I'm not badder than this. Nor Mary (Poppins). But we still avoid. Two things: One is sin; justified without,within. Two is The Mossad, whose rhythm rhymes with God. There we go again. Bringing Mary in. Merry Mary Poppins. Still avoiding sin. Merry Ma...

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On Mondays, “Magician”
feels like the answer
On Tuesdays, Maybe a teacher?

Wednesdays, I think of willy wonka—
in my mind, a chocolate factory I see
and decide “He’s the one I want to be”

3 days of dreaming weren’t enough so,
Travellers intrigue me on Thursdays,
and Firefighter is an idea of Fridays

But at the end of the day, its tiring
being indecisive, and living off steam
But I...

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When people are selling
Political schemes,
The top line will tell you
The truth of their dreams:

If someone's first sentence
Is “most folk are fools,”
They're fixing to force them
To follow their rules;

If “riches from rags”
Is the first thing they say,
Their policy's planned
To make poverty stay;

And when “right of trade”
Is the first right you're told,
They're seeking a syste...

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How beautiful is it to feel 
The moment before a touch,
The nervousness before a kiss,
The initiated small talks 
That were of a big deal;
An achievement that’d
Be written in the books,
In the form of poems 
That’d just begin to multiply 
And beautifully compile.

The one who believed was unlucky
And incapable to be loved,
Comes across the greatest form of love
For the very first tim...

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We are caught,

caught in a stream of floating heads

Provocative faces preaching divisive politics

Spewing universalist values as well as those who meme these voices

Through a satiric vernacular

We live in a spectacularly tense age,

the complexities of speaking

bound up with far wider socio-cultural politics,

the question as to how to represent a voice,

to articulate a hu...

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The sun, brilliant on the trail today,
throws shadows here and there.

Free from the tyranny of clouds,
the silhouettes cannot hide their delight.

My thoughts add an asterisk to their unrestrained dance.
A bookmark to revisit this performance, offered for free.

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 I use to call you Sue, 

And now I know

I still love you.

We use to sit on your bed and talk

Of what we though we would be,

As if by wanting, we could make it so.

I don't know

What became of you,

And I still wonder what of me.

But I just remembered

I still love you

And that will always be.

You went your way

And I went mine,

But If I could back in time...

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You don't have anything to do

but play.

You thought for a second, "oh, I have so much to do...." and felt dragged down.

Silly goose!

You forgot that work is play.

Work is like going to the gym--

move those muscles and laugh!

Fill your heart with joy!

Play, play, in the garden of life.

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Nobbut a beck to begin with.

The Esk escorted by daffodils

beside both banks, and a train

that escaped Beeching’s

scattergun. Skirts

the moorland’s northern edge,

past lambs and fields

festooned with pheasants.

Scurries over boulders,

relaxes and widens

as we approach the sea,

is celebrated by a magnificent,

redundant viaduct,

a memorial to the line

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by Tommy Carroll

Thursday 18th April 2013 11:10 am

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World’s End

She allowed me to melt into her arms,

A blessing gratefully accepted.

I kissed her burnished caramel skin,

Caressed before me by an attentive sun,

Discovering petals in full bloom,

Where a light dew glistened.

My lips consumed the salty-sweet mix,

In glorious intoxication.

My shyness now displaced,

A new boldness burgeoned.

Encouraged by her w...

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There is a wonderful film called Schindler's List.
It is so very special and must not be missed.
It centres round a man called Oskar Schindler,
Who begins as quite greedy and a bit of a swindler.

But while Amon Goth is quite deranged
Schindler is a man who goes through a change.
And while terror prevails to the point of insanity,
Schindler is a man who shows some humanity.

And with his...

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A stupefied, fuzzy silence in the garden

deployed carrier bags, even grimness dreams

Endure the pain and something may betide

A hidden gem that we may never see.

He was in love with his own reflection

Till he had a face of purple cheese.

A quiet rage of a youth misspent

Where small children play complicated games

He was in love with somebody else’s

...

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I dreamt I was on The Curragh of Kildare, that flat Irish plain,
where equine athletes train, and not far from where, in 1914,
Anglo-Irish officers staged a mutiny,
in protest against a British Parliament trying to establish home rule.

But the Angelus Bells, that daily national radio broadcast reminder of Catholic piety,
disturbed my day dreaming, and I made the sign of the cross,
but fell...

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This website draws a picture
It really don't take long
Here’s my ten seconds’ labour
For you to gaze upon 

Who needs pen and paper
When all you do is type a prompt
No human being needed
Tell the robot what you want

It was clever, it was funny
It was quick and it was free
Upload your own image here
Wow friends and family

They shared it and they shared it
Like there was nothing wr...

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‘Savoury stuff. That’s the ticket,’

Said my friend in the canteen queue.

Naturally more circumspect,

I asked ‘Is that potato real?’

‘You’re joking,’ quipped Young Doris

(Old Doris was doing desserts),

And piled the slop up on my plate.

Those lunches hit you where it hurts.

Finding a table, we sat down,

With colleagues in old overalls,

Who talked of hangings and o...

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Trees tower over 

Human affairs, perplexed

By our follies;

Their rings mark time

In a dignified manner, 

While we strive to run

Rings round each other,

Ignobly, if needs must;

Besides, trees know

What we often ignore:

That even the garlanded

Amongst us can't ensnare

Time; they, too, helplessly

Will see sand devoured

Inside a glass of hours...

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When our paths crossed, we found love.

Wish I knew then what would come.

Sunrise, sunset, not enough.

You cried, then you left, so undone.

You had my love, and it was evident.

How quickly we turned into the elephant.

But then again, Evelyn, you taught me how everything works out, in the end of it. 

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What is the world we live in? well where do I start 
Start with the feelings that come from deep in my heart 

For some there are reasons facing each day is tough
For some there’s too much for others never enough  

For some live a life filled with love, hope, joy and dreams 
For some there’s only grief, stress, strain and fear it seems

The world we live in has to be shared by us all 
W...

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It made me sad when I saw him there.

Beaten and bruised as he carried it. 

No one helped him.

No one cared. 

He hadn’t hurt anyone, yet they hated him.

He hadn’t stolen anything, yet they despised him.

All of this made no sense to me.

Why was a man who was faultless being punished?

Why was a man who healed and renewed life to people g...

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Saoirse don Phalaistín!

Justice must win!

Freedom for Palestine!

Their freedom’s thine,

Their freedom’s mine.

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Inside me, something is starting to wake,

It moves with such purpose the world it did shake.  

A truth I hold dearly, no two men could take,  

Defying all reason, these choices I make.  

My emotions could fill up most of this room,

Whether frowning or smiling, most might presume,

I'm drowning in sorrow while singing in tune,  

My end a beginning that started too soon.  

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Nothing should have been finer

Then Alcolu, South Carolina,

In the springtime.

People, segregated by rail tracks

White, on the west side, east side, black. 

All too poor to spare a dime.

George was raised to respect,

His church taught what was correct,

In life, he deserved so much more.

But he was let down badly,

By white justice, sadly,

Contradictory evidence...

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Bury me in the sand

Of my favorite beach

Let the ocean breeze

Carry me to a place

Where I feel at peace

I don't know

The exact point

Where things went South

But it was not my intention

To hurt you

I love you

I wish you could see that

One day

We will meet again

And we will be happy

And there will be no end

My dad asked me

To come hom...

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there’s a thrill 

over the hill 

will you come with me 

to fetch that pail 

I couldn’t find my thrill

eating all the blueberries

I felt like a fool then 

in such a hurry 

instead of climbing 

measure by measure  

through this 

inclement weather 

somehow with you 

suffering feels better 

soon we’ll be 

over the hill tog...

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Every saturday they gather

the hussle and bussle ever louder

To run round a park of green

To beat the crowd mobscene

Far away the others dwell

Away from the merry hell

By a lake, tranluscent and cool

A life giving, nurturing pool

Peace and calm linger in silence

No pressure, adrenaline or pretence

Snatching moments when they come

Perhaps a boring 'snoozef...

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If Hope were a song

I'd sing it all day long

I'd sing it through the night

I'd sing it from great heights!

I'd sing it ‘til my skin

Turned old & pale & thin

I'd sing it ‘til the Earth

Rejoiced in its re-birth!

If Hope were a song

I'd sing it all day long

I'd sing ‘til only love

Rained down from up above

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I lost my dad a thousand times before he was laid to rest.
A tiny portion left every time he fell asleep in the conversation-
every time I watched him struggle to stand.
Every moment in Pain.

I lost my father long before he died.
I'm grateful for the day when fate comes to take him home-
to relinquish the grasp on the others around whose only duty has become to
tend to him.

Not selfish...

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I miss you everyday

But today I missed you hard.

I had gone and done something 

That I don't normally do

And I could imagine you so clearly...

You would have given me a big hug 

And eagerly asked, "So, how was it?"

I would have shared all the details

And over dinner we would analyze each one

And I would second guess myself

And you would reassure me that I did great

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What Matters More at the Workplace: Pay or Peace of Mind?

In today’s modern world , when people are obsessed with earning more and more

Their peace of mind is steadily degrading day by day

They are becoming sick due to mental health despite professional and financial growth in their life

As their peace of mind has vanished, replaced by stress anxiety and restlessness

They are becomi...

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The days that I have been fighting for so long

Have finally come to a halt

A hot baited breathing breath beats round my neck

Made up of heavy wheezing pauses

And a middle c irritating cough

Unwieldy and often interrupting my thoughts

So, I sit with contemplation on my chest

A coffee in my hand as black as tar

And a breeze around my ears

A long-ago burnt-out lipstick kis...

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i want to work on myself

what kind of work do i need?

am i a car stranded in the middle of nowhere,

waiting until the mechanic comes, only to pass me by

am i an equation, frows burrowed in deep thought

an excuse for the mathematician to silently slip away

am i a philosophical question, everyone has a different opinion

that they will rarely ever voice, for when they do it echoe...

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I always asked myself how I’d die—
maybe they want it tragic.
I’ve always been the selfish one,
'cause I only think of life
without the secrets in my mind.

I saw it in the sky,
crying in front of the stone,
but I forgot my voice
after the truth was told.
Their wicked minds are full of lies—
they’ll always be
the scammers in your life.
Would you run, or die?

Writings of hate,
...

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Poem 54 of 230:  HOBSON’S CHOICE

During a daytrip to Cambridge,

    My uncle showed the confined space

That left punters no choice to face -

    Using Hobson’s trade of carriage.

(C) David Franks 2003 - https://walkaboutsverse.blogspot.com

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Oh yes, the knife I asked for

     sliced down my face

                                        till I bleed into my eyes

                                                                             cloudy & hazed with read

I crumple

               your arrogance mean spirited

                     and dark

You stab out, blindly, in darkness of denial

                   ...

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The Me After You
A fragile heart, still beating strong,
A soul that's shattered, yet still sings its song.
I thought I'd be stronger, but I'm not,
My soul crumbles at the sight of you.

I'm still in love with the fragments of you,
The moments we shared, the hopes we once pursued.
My love is a flame that flickers with every thought,
A bittersweet reminder of what could never be brought.

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Available to buy here:

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They sent me to a specialist,

    They didn't say in what,

He told me I was positive,

    I wonder what I've got.

I hope it's nothing serious,

    I hope it's nothing bad,

I hope it's something someday I'll

    Be proud that I once had

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A temple once ruined by your sacrilegious dirt, is now renewed. Replenished. Free.

Each pane shattered by what I blindly believed as love, is replaced by those you’ll never see.

3 years I prayed for the agonising weight to dissipate, for your shadow to unlatch from my skin.

But ghosts do not fade on whispered wishes —

they rot in the marrow, nestle within.

Each morning I carved out ...

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ancient wisteria vine

laces through trees

still waking

from winter's sleep

binds the dead up

with the living

but this cold sailor heart

is still

out of place and time

an anachronistic device

running down the clock

running all these nowhere roads

keeping the wheels hot

until my ship comes back in

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 I was stood outside with my grandfather and mum, specifically to see the comet,

I was the first to spot it.

This comet takes 437 years to circle the solar system. I will never see this comet again in my lifetime. 

I will never forget that moment,

not until the day I die.

Standing, barefoot in the mud and staring up

into the night sky for so long I could see the different

stro...

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There's two sides to this scenario 

If you are living your life in stereo

The abundant beauty fades to grey

Lord knows we've seen better days 

Lived yet loved long

Was not so easily forgotten 

It's crest still resides in our hearts

As pure as the light of our conception 

Brothers and sisters lived free

Not of the land

Not of our obligations 

But of the heart

Som...

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Underworld

     Life here, life now,

be akin to a forced air environment,

   the day pans out as before and,

      the tickly cough and sore throat;-

            a common denominator in our being.

     Before all the labels were created

for observance of all and fully kept,

   we had choice of being – besides

   the submariner we now are,

      there wa...

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Now, I am left with myself.
Not in the way I once hoped,
But in a way that feels cold, detached.
I whisper words of self love,
Yet they feel hollow, like rehearsed lines in a play
Where no one is watching.

I try to believe that I am whole,
That I am enough
But the shadows of my past selves linger,
The ones I sacrificed for love
That was never meant to last.
Now, love is not something ...

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I don't know where it comes from
This pain I carry in my chest
It’s a weight I don't understand
But I keep going, as if the burden were my truth
There’s something inside me
A desire that gets lost in the shadows
But I insist, I insist
Because, maybe, there’s no other way to be
I looked into the abyss
And the abyss didn’t look back at me
Only the silence echoing within
And I, trying to b...

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My personal project for #NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writing Month) is a tiny little project "resonant whispers" where I will write, short intimate pieces, reflections you could say, capturing the quiet moments and lingering feelings that shape our lives. Ghosts, personal experiences, raw emotions and the subtle beauty of the everyday.

For all of these poems, I will be stripping down my poetry t...

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That blind Mare

left alone by the herd as usual

shakes her head to gain short respite

from the eye blinkerings of Horseflies

soon to return

head lowered she snuffles about trying to find

a dewy grass stem to coil her tongue around

she cautiously saunters in my direction

stopping a few feet away from where I am

is she able to sense my pitying presence I wonder?

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I awoke, on the beach
at Durdle Door
Pebbles jabbing their bony fingers
into the knuckles of my spine
Tear tracks make maps of cheeks
a brew of salt and sand
that cannot easily be brushed away

The alarm call of gulls above
they want my chips
But it’s 4am
and these hands are empty
with swollen palms
and throbbing skull
I have nothing to offer
them… or anyone

The busy sea endlessl...

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Let go of it all and release yourself…

Forget hiding behind the bookshelf…

Put all your worries and stress behind…

Maybe a bit of fun with a romantic grind…

Not thinking about the past or the future…

Just living the present with some humour…

There is no point in dwelling on things…

So, fly high with your gorgeous wings…

The soul needs pampering and rest…

Remember, you ha...

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