DREWTON TUNNELS

Fourteen was a magical summer, sun hotter than

Any summer since, grass more green and more intense,

Green in the nose, as well as in the eyes,

And the chalk brighter and more white, even, than the fluffy clouds

Piled like confectionery on the horizon,

The sky bluer, and your adolescent girlfriend

More achingly beautiful every day,

Breasts bu...

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THINK

Do you want to renounce violence against other people on a personal scale and on an international level, where countries are bombed and shelled? This isn't good, people are injured and die. Think what happens if I hit someone and kill him with one punch, this does happen. If a mortar falls and kills a dozen people in a busy market place.

What does it solve? Each person...

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THE REASON WHY

(a tele-ad love tale)

Why do you think I love you, sweet?

Do you think it`s the sway of your hips as you walk,

Or the toss of your hair?

Do you think it`s your far off forest-of autumn eyes that make me care,

Or the calm of your voice as you talk –

Do you think it`s your loveliness laid me at your feet?

Just what do you think love...

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I’ve lived here now three years and more

Bugger

Don’t look as good as it did before

Bugger

The skirting board has all gone fuzzy

Bugger

The colour’s dulled, the corners muzzy

Bugger

I’ve filled the place with loads of stuff

Bugger

Heaven knows I’ve got enough

Bugger

They say that after several years

Bugger

The dust bunnies get bigger...

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Slightest touch ignites. Flames flourish within. Agonising. If I could I would skip to the next obscene moment and re-wind play re-wind play re-wind. I can feel it brewing. Not long now. The next one will make me flutter and not fall. The drought continues.

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Memory as clear as a perfect summer;

two-funnelled steamship, day trip

to Inverary. Pier to pier under fug

of smoke; going below

to watch engine cranks turn mesmerically;

on the way back people on deck

singing to an accordion band.

Most of the Clyde paddle steamers

scattered or scrapped. One lay berthed

on the Thames, lost. Just

the cash-strapped Waverley,

sti...

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Men

Macho Reluctant

Hiding Submerging Suppressing

Sadness     Joy   Failure      Celebration

Feeling   Crying   Weeping

Liberated Emotional

 Tears

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`







if we looked at history
on a multi-plane spreadsheet
and compared the goings on
in each particular era
we shall find that at any given
period, no matter the advancement
there inevitably at a cost lay revealed
atrocities, genocides, discrimination
prejudices, and a lack of conscience
that marks the brute in humans
poets have also been present
ever a...

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come into me
fold yourself and feel me
sink yourself to my depths
and try to swim
swallow your own sickness
and try to breathe
come into me
see who i am and
still remain
be who i am and
try not to break
be what i need
and try to stay
come into me
and know me.

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Walked 'round the town where I was born and bred

Places changed, friends gone, some dead,

Fading ghosts of streets that were home to me

Where I'd played as a child, young and fancy-free

The glow of the smiles that used to be

On the faces of friends I knew.

Wraiths of ships built on the river there

Faint echoes of their horns on the misty air

Phant...

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The Prague spring is a well known thing, but its summer burns intensely and all is overheated.

The last time I was here was long ago, and I think it was October, I’m sure it was October.

I have no elaborate plan, but the plan is elaborate enough: I really need a holiday, really need to chill

and relax and drink coffee and go to the gym, but also wild adventures with the characters I...

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(.......and now for something completely different.....)

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 fro...

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 A guiding light to illuminate the way

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Jayne Fontaine was not to blame

It was surely Auntie Mable

That let the baby crack its head

Under the kitchen table

And as the screams filled up the house

And spilled on to the street

Jayne ran around to garden to

Be sure the first to meet

The neighbours and the gathering throng

So perplexed and concerned

And horrified and angry at

What each in...

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It must have been
a suggestion of some
small quality
that attracted you.

Did I talk in my sleep,
ask for you,
ask for your company?

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It's been such a very few short days

since our last intimate embrace,

Yet I can say with an urgent truth

the thing I've missed most is you.

The strain I've felt in that alien place,

How I've suffered for what I'd to do,

left with an ache I can hardly stomach,

and a pressure too great to tolerate.

The colourful pageantry delighted me,

the music, dancers and cl...

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Today I didn’t change the world at least not very much

I did not win the lottery nor save some other’s life

But on my way I tried to help the few that I did touch

By finding hope in poetry when hopelessness was rife.

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She set her glass

On the mantelpiece

And fixed her eyes on the flame.

The courage of the coal

As it flicked and sniggered.

The madness of its desperation

She percieved as genius.

But something was not right.

She gulped her wine

Too enthustiastically

Forced the cigarette

Into submission.

She had to walk away.

The heat was just...

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'So Sad WAS I'

I dialled a number

A soft voice spoke

And talked gently

I spoke tentatively at first

But then...

Not so hurried

This voice filled me with care

It comforted me

That I could be heard

Listening intently

Ever so gently

A voice of understanding

At last!...

A short time passed

As I gasped but...

The pain

The pain...

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'ThePoetry Spoke'

Great poetry and acoustic music night-

Wednesday night-  8pm!

La Gondola 

22a Liscard Crescent

Wallasey- The Wirral

CH44 1AE   (a stones throw over the Mersey from Liverpool)

Our Guest Poet

‘Stella Jones’

WOL member, published in several anthologies and a major contributor to  Different Ages, Different Walks- poetry collect...

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You've got attachment issues, kid,

and I can't take this hat off my head:

we're beginning to make eye contact.

Seven pairs of shoes you've worn today;

I'm breaking out of The First Aid Box

into the parallel play area.

Your hair stands up on the trampoline

like Harpo Marx in the kitchen clock;

I wonder if we're catching you in time.

Let's see...

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 Conservation

          Atmospheric pressure above the

Marsh-mellow clouds make spectacular wishes

Of the universe – and for a moment,

If we grab the tail and never let go,

We’d have chance upon escape.

     We could snatch it,

Cling on – our dear life and play

Amongst the stars,

We could fly like fantasy

The greats; Capricorn, Virgo, Le...

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Standing on the edge of an ocean shore
on the sand shimmer surface of the swell;
my arms thrown out wide to the water’s roar,
I listened for the tolling of the bell.
Strange screeching birds were circling overhead;
“Into the water, if you dare!” they cry.
It felt as if my life hung on a thread;
“What if it’s cold or too rough?”, I reply.
Then a wind like a hammer hit my back
a...

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Smile,
like it's the last time
you'll ever hear me say
I love you.

And pretend that last summer
wasn't the nightmare you remember,
that all pretty girls grow up
in pretty dresses
and Daddy loves them a life time.

So smile.
Never remember this night,
or the shocking realization
that all little girls grow up
to be whores or worse...

Fools in love with fools.

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on heavy eyes the full moon cast gilded shadows

swan path shafting seductive to the shore where

she dropped her clothes and entered liquid light

jewelled feet icy lustrous pale arms high uplifted

now wide eyes of unwavering clarity enraptured

dream-wooing  dream-possessed  she sank gleaming

to her knees in the bitter midnight water open palms

thrust upwar...

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I created this poem using a very rigid cut-up inspired technique of going through an article in a women's magazine and only deleting words. I kept all of the text in the same order as in the article and didn't add anything or change any tenses etc.

Love You Millions

I don’t know what was harder

Being told

Or having to explain it

“I’m poorly”

But you’re ...

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Ghosts of Rivington Moor

On a clear day from this windswept range

your eyes can see as far as the coast

and the mountains of North Wales

in heavy rain they can see little worth talking about

blindfolded by a dismal blanket of cloud

Centuries ago these hills were ablaze

warning of invasion from foreign lands

it’s pike still stands in solitary recogniti...

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Random moments

bring fragments of peace.

On dust covered dunes

lost in the drones of the sea,

or looking at you

looking aimslessly out of the window.

Watching Candy Floss

dance across the sea.

Listening to bus wheels

stutter like stray thoughts.

Looking for ...

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I see the smoke is shifting I see the veil is lifting And there's an itching in the providence. Where love is missing. Them looks are menacing No longer dosed on bogus medicine Feel like a veteran I'm wartorn stuck in these malevolant ages. These awakening stages Giving way to these nations Showing evident rages. Ive been flipping them pages Ancient knowledge in traces Prophresisin...

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Chewing the cud unperturbed by the world in the heat’s haze,

Up in the meadow tread red-polled, old, dun cows and brown cows,

Jerseys and Guernseys combining with Holsteins, all fine beasts.

All summer long in the strong, blinding sunshine, the kine graze,

Nibbling the timothy, fescue and rye grass, that high grass

Hiding the hollows, where tussocks of sedge deck the m...

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As the sun subsides.

The cold wind rides the waves, across the sea.

Starved of light she fights to survive.

The harsh pains of overwhelming rains, and frosty dawns.

Winter scorns her.

She withers to stem, as her petals fall to soils too hard to nourish or flourish from.

Long gone are summer showers.

The warm rays of empowering long days.

She recalls when she would dance, in...

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Those days are over when we ruled the seven seas
And when we wanted money we could rob the Portugese
'Cos now they're robbing us through the european coffers
And there isn't any fighting, they just come and take it off us
You buggers are too healthy and you're living far too long
Now that's all fine and dandy when economies are strong
Even for the reaper, times are hard and things l...

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Here we are, two years on

And still I hate the school play

In crammed airless hall

Two hours of my life stolen

only this time it’s worse…

I’ve grabbed the last two seats in the house,

embroiled myself in chit chat with a neighbour

before the waft of urine hits my senses

and I thought her husband switched places

to ease our conversation…

My 15yr old bemoan...

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I’m a carefree lad,

A lazy git,

Whichever you prefer,

I don’t mind either,

Or anything,

Except having to do work

Of some,

Or any description

You know this life’s good,

That of the ne’er bored,

Taking each day,

Just as it comes,

To put on an act,

As if prepared for it,

Such effortless style, such élan!

The secret: Don’t care

We, the lazy are...

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When silver lady midnight moon

Caresses sand and sea

I can hear her gently calling

A calling out to me

She is pushing me and pulling me

And luring me along

For she wants me in the ocean

Where she says, that I belong.

She wants me in the ocean

She wants me in the sea

She wants me neath the foaming

Rage so the waters cover me.

She ...

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the day of her leaving

it's a bit battered now

but I remember it when it was pristine

pages almost sticking together as they opened for the first time

faces inside

staring back

unaware of time passing

monochrome memories

family, relatives, confetti, suits, shiny shoes

daft hairstyles back-combed into oblivion

me as a small boy

...

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Second haiku

Toxic like kisses
A path of broken wishes
The weak me misses

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Just for a bit of fun. Add your own caption to this blog entry - or post another pic . . .

 Maybe one for the ladies . . .

and for the gents . . .

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Last Drop
by, Melissa R. Mendelson

You can talk politics
until blue in the face,
but are they listening?
The world
slices us like a knife,
bleeding us dry,
and we’re holding onto the threads,
trying to live our lives.
But are we living?
We’re talking,
but no more words are heard,
buried under the weight
that is crushing us down.
Yet, we try to walk.
We step fo...

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http://www.youtube.com/user/clawfishy Here three videos of my first readings would  love feedback as i know they are not perfect by any means but i am now on a learning curve about projection and performance so let me know

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Does anyone know someone who in Edinburgh who'd be willing to put up the much acclaimed poet and stand-up, Jackie Hagan, for a night or two anytime during 6th – 28th August, whilst she performs at Edinburgh Fringe?

email jaclynhagan@hotmail.com or facebook www.facebook.com/jackiehaganpoet

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She said that I looked Irish, as we sat and warmed our hands

Beating djembe herding us to sway and stamp and clap

I looked across and through the flames

That sighed and licked up over logs

Into her eyes, in all their eyes

The light: not fading, changed

Scarlet ribbons curling around

Stripes of orange a...

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I lost two cities,

lovely ones.

Both because of the men I loved when there.

I had to leave them, had no choice but to flee.

From Paris' grandeur and Londons greatness.

Away, away....

Was it the cities or the love I lost, or both,

Because of one another gone.

Maybe I will return to their vastness but not to the loves or the men

No they are long gone.

I los...

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No question of hesitation

you left the water,

and walked the planks

into town.

Changing language

with a flick of your tongue -

tasting the air,

as salted freedom

followed you on the breeze.

Knots untied themselves

as you passed.

Brown eyes

questioned your worth -

but within your presence

there existed no space

for limitations and

o...

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Just a reminder about our Read Out Loud event tomorrow at Stockport Art Gallery in the fine creative setting of the Open Contemporary Art Exhibition. Non-regular attendees have to book a place via the Gallery (0161 474 4453). The event starts at 7.15 PM but attendees should try to arrive by 7.00 PM.

A microphone, laptop and projector will be provided for those wishing to provide a multimedi...

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Its all so new and exciting the power to say what I think

a secret smile

a knowing glance

a hand not quite touching

Will it be enough

will it carry through

Can it last til the sun sets

and then rise anew

Those answers are not for you or I

but for now I writhe and feel voluptuous at your touch

sparkling we glow, setting the world alight

...

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If I ever hurt you,
It's important that you know,
I never ever meant to
and I will love you when I go

To touch your soft skin
to stroke your long dark hair
to smell again your sweet scent
I will remember everywhere

On the hill flying kites,
rolling in the warm wet grass
a summer long with sweet delights
that no other can surpass

once we were lovers warm and t...

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 Oh let the Darkness sleep

For fear of that which lies

Beneath the earth so deep

Be still and hear its sighs

The hunger makes it yearn

To taste your very soul

Towards the light it turns

As doleful death knell tolls

Oh let the Darkness sleep

As it has for these long years

A harvest shall it reap

Drawn by cascading tears

The wheel of time stil...

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In these re-lived

seconds,

my wasted, wanting, 

thinking breath

was caught 

like a tumble-drying

yesterday:

are all now repeats-

and  missed

meanings.

Washed-out context-

still-

there is always

recovery.

I may make sense of it yet.

words and foto @Tommy Carroll

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Wild wolf

I heard you howl

at the moon.

I believe it was

sometime in June.

Wild wolf

you sounded lonely

you sounded sad.

Was I scared?

No I was mad!

Why?

Wild wolf

in myth you

are evil.

This fear from

the time primeval.

...

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I did not have live video footage BUT I did do an audio recording which I put to video to share easlily (as usual). I read 'Within ther silence', 'The emptiness of hunger', 'Blooming Vera' (all from my book 'Whispers From Within'), 'Little Beggars' (a new poem) and 'The Missed'.

If you want to find out more, please visit either www.thepoetjohn.com (if its my writing only you want to see) or...

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Yikes. Life is busy and hectic and I am not complaining.

I've done loads, simply great expanding handbags of stuff since I was able to poke my head and fingers in here. Of course I've returned in part to show off. Oh be kind to me!

Tomorrow I am on Radio Four's 'Four Thought' at 8.45pm, and thence forever they tell me, on the iplayer. How scary. I get to ramble on about human identity f...

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Ashleigh Haigh, my daughter, age 10 and I have been published in a book made from a local project, involving Cartwheel arts Tell us Another One and Joy Winkler. The book ", a childrens book, My Magic Pen" are available from Cartwheel arts and will be in local libraries e.g. Heywood Library, Darnhill Library ect.  Ashleigh and I took part in a few of the group wrtings, My Pen is Magic, My Aunty ...

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http://www.erbacce-press.com/#/erbacce-prize-short-list/4533449873

guess who got shortlisted ;D

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The feet of our Lord walked

Along the dusty roads,

Scratched by the stones.

Along the narrow paths,

Cared by the green grasses.

Those Saint Feet were not aware of tiredness,

He walked His way with worthiness.

Beyond an ordinary strength those feet walked.

Days and nights,

Proclaiming to avoid the fights.

Those feet were washed by tears,

Those fe...

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