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My Inspiration: My Daughter

Never thought I'd be a single mom

It hit me like a bomb

Never thought I'd be all alone

Watching my very own clone

Some days are harder than most

Some days I have to fight not to choke

The stress

The weight

On my shoulders

But I have to say it all goes away when I hold her

When she looks at me

So happily

Its like I have a little piece of heaven

And those probl...

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The Cucumber Plot

I have a large knife in my hand
and I’m not afraid
to skin this mother
to sliver away at the
stiff upper lip of a
toughened epidermis
banish wrinkles, dents and prickly bits
and behold it
cleansed, stripped, unveiled
If you ask me again
I will plainly chop
the thing in two
while I wonder what I could be

This repast, the fourth of the day
mentally diarised between
broken blinds and...

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childrenidentitymotherhoodpoempoetry

THE BENCH

 

There’s a bench in the park where an old couple sit

holding hands and laughing as the children play and flit

about on the swings and slides with boundless joy,

inciting memories of when they were girl and boy.

The antics of the kids so full of life and carefree bliss,

their lives laid out before them on paths that time would kiss.

 

They’ve been sitting on that bench for ...

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LIFEDEATHTIMEAGELOSSCHILDRENGENERATIONSHAPPINESSJOYLAUGHTERSMILES

THE BALLAD OF THE SKATEBOARDING ANT

If you've ever seen an ant

go whizzing by

faster than his friends and

with goggles on his eye's,

then without a doubt,

skidding through the plants,

you've met my friend Albert,

The skate-boarding ant.

 

From the day he was born

he was rushing around

hither and thither,

like a spring unwound.

His mum would despair,

“Albert, please stand still.

You need y...

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ANTCHILDRENFUNHAPPYKIDSLAUGHTERLIFELOVESKATEBOARDSMILE

BREATHE

We take so much for granted

from this world on which we play,

the breath inside our lungs

drawn in from a cold and windy day.

 

Draining the life from a world already

so drawn and stretched to it's limits,

desperately trying to imbibe

the scarcities still deep within it.

To live; to breathe; to follow time

as down the wind it sails

against all odds and obstacl...

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breathechildrendeathdefiancedefiantlylifeprotectshelterworld

THE BALLAD OF BOB THE BUN

Our friend, Bob The Bun,

just loved to have fun

and exciting adventures galore,

he’d laugh all day

and jump and play

and roll around on the floor.

 

Its a very rare sight

to see a bun take flight

but one day he went flying so high,

he held onto a kite

by the tail, so he might

get to see the world from the sky.

 

Now, whilst he was high,

something low ca...

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childrenfunny poembunbobsconerock bunangel cakekitelovemarriagetwinsbakingtoastbutter

THE FEATHER ON THE TRIGGER

It's just a way of life

said the man with the gun,

you win it or you lose it

and when all is said and done.

 

But the odds and the favour

can be tipped from over here

by a warm winning smile

from a boy with no fear.

 

They say that respect

is a game hard won

but they can't see the smile

down the barrel of the gun.

 

The feather on the trigger

tipping...

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warchildrengunbarrelbulletslifedeath

dawdling

laying here - stroking your back - as you sprawl snoozing
it strikes me how much you have grown

though you are still small enough to ride mahout on my shoulders
and tug reluctant on my arm when shopping

your face when sleeping carries those babyish curves
   you pull the heart at the smallness of perfect

      but you are definitely growing

just as I get used to the slim child
   y...

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children

SCUM

Hit the homes of the less, Hit the SCUM of the projects, Drop a few bombs in the Sub Culture Urban Market, target the future smokers, smoke the future dealers, pull up in them vans, hand out vans and a few packs of cigs, Fact 79 the name of the game, selling the idea of a pack newports, over the idea of packing for cruises to lands on new ports, grandmamas got them, baby cousins watchin', second h...

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CigarettesTobaccoDeathChildrenblackracemarketingcapitalismharmful

The Hourglass

We exist on the clock
a meander in the changing river
I clutch at air but it’s gone
the sand of the banks
slips through my hands
my hands
flow all over you

There is a magic I think we should birth
there is a magic I think you’d regret not knowing
and yet we look the other way
as those sands flow…
as those sands flow through…

We tussle on the floodplain
blowing leaves caught by the...

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childrenparentingspawning

Children

Scurrying like rats in the sewers,
Swiftly hiding from the flashlight.

Tree-climbing tailess monkeys,
Grinning mischievously down you.

An orchestra of laughing, screaming, crying, playing,
With a mad conductor presiding over them.

A football, a skate board, a stone, a stick, a leaf.
Digging in dirt or becoming superheroes.

Ignoring pleas for calm and quiet;
Unwilling to tidy, clea...

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Children

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