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love poetry life nature poem War pain hope poet loss

THERE IS NO GOD!

There is no God !

there is no hope

only the jerk at the end of a rope

that started as an umbilical chord

suspended from a bridge of sighs

that can't be crossed for wheres and whys.

 

No reason for punishment of sin or guilt

no need for churches to be built

the immaculate only a common conception

part of the overall deception.

The idea of a Holy Trinity

disappear...

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Also by ray pool:

SEX SHOP | SURROGATES | SURROGATES | SURROGATES | BANKERS | BRIAN COX OFF CAMERA | KITCHEN PORTER | I DREAMED OF KIM KARDASHIAN | THE RESTLESS THRONG | WHEN PUBS HAD PIANOS | LIFE IS DUST | THE RHYME OF NO REASON | MEMORY OF HEAT | THE A - Z OF COMMUTING | THE LAKE | SLEEPING ROUGH | THE ADRENALIN RUSH | THE LADY SELLS TOBACCO | CHINOOK (2) | LONELY LABOURERS OF THE MEAN STREETS | CHINOOK | CAISTER ON SEA | PIGEON POEM | KNOCK THREE TIMES | ON THE HEATH | STRING QUARTET | OLD SKIN | SHE IS THE OCEAN | THE ESSEX BOYS(The Rettendon murders) |

Death Faith Religion Atheist Atheism Funeral Morta

you reap what you sow

Let the weeds grow through our bodies

Let the roots grow through our bones

Let our sinews splinter

Our heart and lungs drown

In the desperate race for the sun

Let our sins bear fruit

Ripe and majestic

Let our hands and feet stretch

Far beyond the stars

Aching for light

Let our blood turn white

Let our screams fall silent as whisper

Let our tears drop like blosso...

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Also by Stuart Buck:

notes | seen but not heard | Brenda | counterpoint | the fear | chained | neighbourhood | the berlin wall | network | palm polly | scythe | lost highways | free | sober | drop | virginia | voices | dysmorphia | claret | economy domine | beach |

Hunting (Game and Witch)

The need to post about this subject has been growing steadily since the story broke. I am of course referring to the American dentist and his murder of Cecil the lion. This event like a number before it (see Kony and his children army) has enraged the majority of people leading to a whole lot of tweets and Facebook rubbish. While this outcry is commendable it is sadly misplaced, self-righteous and...

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Also by Matthew John Rutter:

On the universe, thinking and string theory. |

Welfarefairnessmeatlionshuntingwitch huntingvegetarianCecil

An Oasis of Heart

An Oasis of Heart

 

     Are they born there God?

Are they born with my tears?

What about you?

Are you happy with my sorrow?

Do you feel  - cherubs be

A waste of  our strength?

 

     Be I strong to witness the child

Of Hamas hung in your faith?

Be I strong to encapsulate

     A child of Mossad;

Do I bring her to The Red Sea?

 

     What choices Reign

...

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Also by Noetic-fret!:

Domino Theory or, Who's Next? | COLD | In Love, In Faith, In Honour | This Garden of Skipton | Pray For Beer | Made For Bad |

One Suggestion Is All It Took

Alone and single

Looking for love.

 

Down at pub

Over a pint.

 

Moaning about life

Best mate Steve.

 

Listening then suggesting

You need company.

 

Grab a bottle

Come back home.

 

Forget just enjoy

Could sleep over.

 

Attractive wife Diana

Answered the door.

 

Purring sex kitten

Seductive transparent nightie.

 

Two hard cocks

...

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Also by Nigel Astell:

Enter the Forbidden Zone | Camp At Butch Farm |

At the bar Julie the barmaid overheard us and sugg

What a word "Respect".

"Respect" What it means today...

 

It is,

Fears, to a power greater than I.

A Status attained, by experience of time, wealth or knowledge of I.

To Love, emotions bonded to another from I.

Towards Legacies, of creators and destroyers of all things including I.

Revelating Evolution, nails Legacy and provides theories of cells multiply.

Some still are, finding newer answers, n...

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Also by Jojomon:

in a Pot of Misery... | Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam, you will be missed! | The Instrument of Peace. | A Bottle of Champagne! | City Little... | I Write Out LOUD! | What clouds don’t show! | Dream Girl... | Funny Fights... | Your smile... |

TWO SIDES TO THE COIN

How is it ethnics can proudly boast

of the rights of their community,

Whilst if the English do it they're burnt toast -

Scorned as racist with impunity?

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Also by M.C. Newberry:

LOVE SONG | WITH YOU | HISTORY TO SUIT | FOOD FOR THOUGHT |

Not White To Weft (early poem for public art sculpture in Oldham)

 

 

Lay flat and spun together you’ve always run  a town,

each  part is party to the next and  grown

separately  we conflict and seethe  from

it  and sneer from it, no one is happy in  slavery

wouldn’t  talking be a step, food too  and

work  unites us, it’s not them making us  toil

we  all carry the can and  mustn’t

need  to chase our own tale to cause  blame

each  ti...

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Also by CathyLCrabb:

(untitled) |

AcrosticcottonmillOldhamracismspinning mule

SHADOWS

The glint of steel, so sharp and smooth,

beneath my fragile fingers.

Delicate inlaid patterns reflect

an afterimage that lingers.

 

As a child I’d hide beneath cotton sheets

feigning death, that I could deceive.

Then risking a peep from beneath my shield,

oh, how my poor young heart grieved.

 

For in the corner of my eye

and with a silent cry,

it was watching.

...

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Also by THE PEN AND THE PAGE:

HOPEFUL EYES | A LOVERS EMBRACE | SHELL SHOCK | THE CLEANSING TIDE | PORTENTOUS PROGNOSIS | THE BALLAD OF THE FRIGHTENED EAGLE | MEMORIES OF OLD | GUARDIAN ANGEL | THE END OF THE DREAM | THE VOW | ONE LAST SHOT | TREE WISE MONKEYS | STORM FRONT | TWILIGHT DELIVERY | THE FUTILITY OF WAR | FRAGILE FAÇADE |

memories

Swaying flowers,

passing hours,

birds in evergreens

 

happy smiles,

worth your whiles

and sappy little trees

 

muddy faces,

fraying laces,

and a gentle summer breeze

 

swaying flowers,

passing hours,

making memories

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Also by mollie learmonth:

Humming bird | The floatability of fruit {an awardwining poem} |

flowershourstimesummerbreezememoriessmilestreesbirds

Little Man, Big Heart

LITTLE MAN, BIG HEART

It’s only a record, I said to myself:
and indeed it was
only a record.
Anarchy in the UK
on EMI
in the black sleeve.
One of two copies I’d queued up to buy
on the day it came out
in 1976
from the indie record store
in Canterbury High Street -
the other given to my then girlfriend
at Kent University
who was into Boston.
I had more than a feeling
she didn’t ...

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🌷(1)

the republican mantra

from meduaern come bees
fresh as yon hard-back beck :
lufteme pulled
by the petrichor of spring :

drenc on thunder : drenc on cloud :
aelmesgeorn in verge well give :

them stamp the snaeb 
and drink the tear :
full fat their collared necks :
aswellan as swine in gor

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Also by jeremy young:

oubliette | pendle | a quiet revolt | the tea party | psalm 23 | yellow | nina simone | entropy | seep | tanning | agape | anarchist | media | francis harvey | you |

Kismet

Ties loosen

eyes now bound

dominance and submission

momentarily forgotten

within their

kismet kiss

 

© Katypoetess 2015

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Also by Katy Megan:

Vampiric Chivalry | Dodging Cupid's Arrow | Iron Lung |

Katypoetesslovelove poetry

WHEN COAL WAS KING

(Forgotten pits of the Barnsley Area of the NCB where I worked)

 

In a simpler near-off age

We won the coal to earn a wage;

The seams were thin where coal had lain

For centuries at Darfield Main;

The work was hard, the money good

At Denby Grange and Bullcliffe Wood;

Black-eyed pandas left each shift

From Dodworth, Gawber, Royston Drift;

Coal Prep Plants built brand sp...

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Also by John Coopey:

THE THREE HULATS | THE LITTLE MASTER | BARN DANCE (PROGRESSIVE) | MONOGAMOUS WORDS | OLD SEPP |

tasty flesh

 

 

The hour is slim!

the time to entwine

with her

and with advantage

inhale

the heavy offering

from between the jaws

of her open thighs.

Persephone's tasty flesh

renders her cleft

of wet truth-

she can slake this thirst-

can assuage my ache

when, enthralled against

the serpent earth,

with legs knotted,

we lay tangled

in ancient ruin.

...

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Also by Tommy Carroll:

epileptic fit | Dreaming of the Tour de France (2015) | You at the back of the queue |

How does it feel

To be locked out of your own mind

To listen to a tune so sweet

It could draw tears from a glass eye

How does it feel

To read nonsense dredged up by delusional minds under the misnomer poetry

So called poets

Stoking intellectual fires

Stunningly unoriginal

With aspirations of greatness

And worth.

How does it feel?

Ludicrous

 

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Two Impressions of Early Summer

dull pink rises
over the growing
weight
of the houses

between
the quiet hours
the morning glories
close their petals
against the evening
rain

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Also by A.M. Clarke:

Moving From One Place to Another (with boxes) | Pen Pals | Apology | First Impression of Santa Cruz | Marie |

rain

I COME, I GO

I COME, I GO

 

I come, I go

 

I made mistakes I know

I repeated them over and over again

You know....

 

 Troubled birth a dusty death

I laid shrapnel on this earth,

Yep I was a mess..

 

I come, I go

I love I lost

I reached out my hand

To see it bitten of 

 

I tried to stay true

When confronted with lies 

 

I tried to hang on

Even when ...

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Also by David R Mellor:

When I see the word music, i do not think of war | We are constantly on red alert |

SCARRED

                Scarred

You don’t know me

Don’t ever think you do

Yet I always scream...

Stop judging me;

Stop condemning me;

Stop criticizing me;

And please don’t stare for too long;

Don’t smile to broadly, it’s rude

Don’t like narrow smiles either, Fake

I will bow my head, please don’t do it

 

I love you, you said

But why, I asked

Have you seen a weaklin...

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Also by Henrietta Atsupi Gborgblorbu:

THE BEAUTY OF THE SHADOWS OF THE PAST AND ASHES | OBLIVION | THE AUTHETIC ME | HYSTERIA |

Brahms & Liszt

Happy.  Genial.  Merry.  Jolly
Blottoed, blasted, etched and blitzed
Mellow, foggy, hazy, squiffy
Tipsy.  Tiddly.  Brahms and Liszt
 
Dazed, zombied, tanked-up, trollied
Ganted, gubbed, guttered
Bladdered, blathered, leathered, plastered,
Sozzled, sloshed, scuttered
 
Hammered, battered, caned, mangled
Spannered, mullered.  Half-cut, lashed
Twisted, warped, slammed, wasted
Wrecked, ru...

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drinkinglist poem

Hiroshima and Nagasaki

"We can't risk losing people,
Killed in action, far away.
What'll happen to their wives,
Their children, the next of kin?

We have to end the war,
But, none the less, we are
Too proud, too good, too vigorous,
To just give up, to just retreat.

Let's see what happens," did they say,
And to end a war, to save their lives,
They killed two hundred thousand people,
And didn't stop at all.

...

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Also by Siobhan:

A Haiku about a Library | In the end, nothing changed at all | Good old times |

warwar poetrywar poemwar poemshiroshimanagasakiatomatom bombatomic wardeath

The Silver Chalice

I’m your silver chalice

And every drink you take; you’ll take from me

I’ll cool you with cool water when you’re warm

And in the cold I’ll warm you

And when you crave for me,

Take me to your lips

And smile at me the smile that launched

A thousand ships

Then I’ll gladly quench your thirst.

I’ll do anything that you need,

Guaranteed.

 

I’m your silver chalice

So...

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love

Singing Too Loud

Dreaming of funerals 
Dreaming of death
Dreaming impossible 
Daydreams of theft.
Thoughts not unhappy
But hopeful and proud
Driving too slowly
Singing too loud.
Why is it sacrifice leads me to joy?
The heavy heart dragged 
By the arms of a boy.
Why is it sorrow somehow leads me to laughter ?
The dreadful, dark ending
The what that comes after.
Why does the prospect of loved ones abou...

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Also by Corr Lens:

dont post a poem | Tom |

deathlaughtersacrificemadness

captain hook 0730 (07/24/2015)

Balogna and hot dogs are god's noble blue collar meats.
They get the ugly, thankless jobs that nature did until we killed her, outsourced her, crushed her with tank treads and replaced her with a miracle of soviet era automation designed by the germans, made by the chinese, shipped by once-proud thai peoples, assembled by grunting aussies, and handed off to the regular malcontentious beta male fa...

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Also by Zach Dafoe:

karaoke 2 (07/23/2015) | haiku dump 1 (07/17/2015) | Napkin 4 (07/20/2015) | Scott Peterson 2149 (07/17/2015) | malignamania (7/17/2015) | bar prayer 1 (07/08/2015) | stepson icarus I (07/03-05/2015) |

im not sure where i was going with this drunk uncl

Three poems part two

The Laws of Family Migration

The Venn diagram of transcultural love
has no full intersections.

A spouse is not a spouse but is a potentially
non economically active burden on the State

Hearts become coins become cherries

in a fruit machine. There are no

winning lines, nothing adds up. Love

conquers nothing, counts for nothing.

Meanwhile your child

is free to live in any c...

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Also by pauline sewards:

Three poems |

Family Migration Laws

Going with the flow

I leave the station on the hill

Going with the flow

A shoal of bodies

Weaving

Winding

In unison to avoid the net

Some like spawning Salmon

Fight the expulsed tide

By going up stream

 

 Jehovah’s witnesses

Standing battle ready

Disconsolate

Waiting, daring anybody to accept

The proffered hand

Holding a magazine

A book

Designed to bring belief

 

...

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Also by Martin Elder:

Brighton Beach |

Silence

Sticks and stones may break my bones  but your words can never hurt me.

So cliche' wouldn't you say? 

Now that I am older I know better; words hurt more than sticks and stones would.

Why would I care what others say about me? 

It's a legacy I'm trying to leave behind standing in good graces.

I want to be spoken of with good intentions and a hope of good spirits.

How could you env...

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Garden Thoughts

lost spots of sunlight

dreamed into a flower

how a rose is born

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Also by Ali Bell:

Infinity | Human Thought | The Wind's Betrayal | The Hike |

rosenature

Hunt of the Men to rule cycle

Into the vortex of timeless end
Where no other creature has yet begun
Turning from a rhythmic flute
The rabbit jumps into chutes
Darkness appears from the back of earth
No light shines longer yonder the pearl
Smoke derives from umbilical butterfly
Trapped beneath the Cheshire cat sign
Gulping milk to fasten bloom
Cookie crumbs, sugar rush delusion
To enter, only inception of living
Soul...

Read and leave comments (0)

Also by Lubna:

Relations | Blue Flare | Child of Equinox |

Fantasyfantasy realmsAlice In Wonderlandmenstrul cyclelife and naturecycle of lifepath of lifehuman journey

Twenty, One Line Poem

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A ghostly Soldier, a Mother and babe alone, the price of freedom.

The chilled air rushes through the leaf strewn forest floor, winter's on its way.

A Mime make a rhyme, sure a Mime can make a rhyme, but who would hear it.

God is good and great, praise him now and don't be late, will decide Your fate.

The wind blows the snow into whirlin...

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OneLinePoemsHaiku

DOWNRIGHT

rivers flow wind gently blows raindrops pour hearts ignore an empty street a shallow feet life in death a stone can't breathe sun in the night eyes with no sight the heart abides the mind denies ambigous darkness brings a nerve in gladness sounds which are speechless leaving a butterfly in a living death.

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Also by hershey:

UNLEARN | UNLEARN |

untitled

Sometimes when life gives you hell.

I wanna give you heaven.

Lettin me into your family and life.

A true sign of love and trust.

I feel I always must tell you...

I love you. 

So the days you feel alone.

I'll be your tree to your lonely stone.

I wanna bring joy to your life.

Like Uncle Phil did to Will in Bel-Air.

I wanna bring you comfort every time we meet. 

Like ...

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Also by Ja'Saun Young:

How much is she really worth? | The art of giving up | HER |

love

The evening sun

The evening sun

shines through the lens of my looking glass.

Drums beat in the distance.

Couples

young and old

stroll hand in hand

with no care for tomorrow

happy they are

beware clouds could fall.

A tourist with an I phone

takes pictures of my town.

Dogs run off their lead

they didn't see.

Silence the drums.

The church bells ring out

is this what it is...

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Vineyards

I noticed it after impact,
convulsions and some blood.

She said we weren't made to die.

I turned off the trimmer,
knelt to the jerking creature
with my harvest knife.

In the New world, nobody will ever die.

The movement did not stop
for several moments.
I buried the body; re-started the machine.

In the New World,
we will all be tending vineyards.

 

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See Sea

See Sea

A donkey ride and ice cream kicks
A stick of rock and lick your lips
Now I'll scoff a bag of chips
As high time tide begins to rip
Life's moans and troubles may undo
From a clifftop lighthouse view

It rains quite often when I'm there
But I see sea so I don't care
I bedeck myself in a chair
And swallow gulps of salty air
And candy floss is tempting fare
For a lonely seagulls...

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First Sight

FIRST SIGHT

They say beauty is within the eye of the beholder.
I don't know why but I told her.
It all started with a message.
Now I can't wait till she gets my message.
She was mine before she even knew it.
It's my time to show her love like she never knew it.
Can't help but wonder what the future brings.
But for tonight let's try some different things.
Sit around all day staring at he...

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Also by Joey Garcia:

Run |

The Butterfly Effect

I lay here cradling my mosaic heart, untwinned in your palms. My naked body and mind no longer intertwined, A fated dualistic death. I gave myself to you unwittingly, unknowingly, punishingly... Sensual, seductive emotions ravenously race through my every pore, One last butterfly kiss, wanting evermore. My heart decadently dances with perpetual palpitation...

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birthdeathhopelifelostLove

Kindling

Fallen from lofty heights
Sodden on dewy nights
Disregarded underfoot
Fated to become soot
If we decide to utilise
This wood of meagre size
To be the start
Around the heart
To be the fuel
To fight the cool
That cool of the room
The dull, the gloom
Is begun
To be overcome
When the spark is lit
In the ashy pit

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🌷(1)

Also by Lewis O'Brien:

Fuck | Time | Stairs |

Bleed

First one in a while, rather angry.

 

 

Hate holds me up and anxiety brings me down, what’s that you see on my face? A frown. A physical manifestation of all the macho gesticulation, degradation and miseducation of a generation that is force fed, bled and told to listen to other music instead. With all that stuck in your head, how the fuck are you supposed to move forward in life? Letting...

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Lucifers Gift

Lucifer's Gift

The candle flickers as death draws near
the whispering souls come out to play as the clock hit's Midnight
and another realm opens
Lucifer returns from his sleep
bringing a gift for his weary lover
a lovers kiss, a serpents kiss a poisoned box of betrayal like the petals of a red rose scattered amongst the ashes of a body that's been lain to rest out in the elements of this b...

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Also by Anna Grinter:

(untitled) |

death

Made up

I made another's face not mine

a mask of colour to hide behind

I painted lips of ruby red

to frame the lies that would be said

I rouged my cheeks to feign a blush

in skin so tired blood does not rush

eyelashes layered and stuck with glue

eyelids I gave a greenish hue

mascara, black, layered heavy as lace

no trace of truth on a made up face

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Also by Michelle:

He's a Poet | He’s a Drunk |

EMOTION

Rid me of emotion

It’s dragging me down

If it carries on rising

I’m going to drown

 

Emotion

Battered and broken

No break from

The waves of

Your verbal berates

I’m now susceptible

And wide open

 

Your outward displays

Of whispering love

Containing

Unrestrained

Inward hate

 

Eroding away

Exposing

My expression

Of despair

And hate

...

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A Tit for a Tat

The pot called
The kettle
‘Black !'
The kettle rebuffed
‘Pot, cry not foul,
Nor must you bark,
While it is stark,
You are a sooty reflection
Of a night, pitch-dark! '
While the blood of children,
The fair sex, the feeble and the old
Is still fresh in their hand,
Perpetrators of genocide
Demand, the less democrats,
Cursed and shunned  
From a diplomatic mission,
Must step aside
By ...

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Hypocriteseintrospection

New Writing workshop news

can now confirm guys first workshop for my new creative writing workshop 'west end writers' will be 20 august 2015 from 6.30pm to 8.30pm at West End library, Winsor Road, Denton, Manchester, M34 2HB.

(Free admission)
 
Writers of the third kind in Bolton will also be back in Mid September too for our 5th season of writing exercises too. 

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Also by Andy N:

Picc – Vic Project |

Mini gun

For me there could only be one

The beautiful Dillon mini-gun

Can shoot 6000 rounds per minute

Damage really has no limit

 

Six beautiful long barrels

Turning anything into particles

Shear violence is the purpose

Say goodbye to the calmness

 

Mechanical sound is glorious

Spinning more just for badness

There is nothing that is indestructible

So big and yet beau...

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Also by Powervalve:

Tomorrow is a scary place | You are my desire | Live your tomorrow | Beauty is not seen | My parents | From where we are | I am what I am | My little friend | The one that got away | love without laws | From the past to the present | Every sense | Chances | My glasses | Sense of destiny |

gunfightwarpeace

Any poet`s answer to the Astronauts

Today, after nine years travelling three billion miles, the new Horizons space craft will get our first `close up` of the planet Pluto.  Which is as good an excuse as any for re-posting this revised and frolic `religious` version of what the entire celestial thing was about in the first place. (It`s pure, spectacular,  poetry fodder man - pure poetry fodder!) . 

 

(A frolic)

To God the st...

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My Last Entry

~~
Soon, vines made their way around my heart, holding on to a life I had lost at the sight of her back. It held me in place long enough that in that moment, my chest had forgotten how to dance. It could only push through with snow instead with it's natural warmth, leaving me cold. And my body was slowly becoming an ocean, bruised and wrinkled and it was then had I realized I was drowning with no...

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Also by Agony Aiane:

Freefall |

DESK


.......


Telephone against your skin
How I wish I was him.

Glasses perched against your eyes
To be that close and still survive.

The coffee cup against your lips
That I could stay within each sip.

Computer screen facing your breast
You ask a question , it's always yes.

Keyboard bouncing with each fingerprint
To lay beneath your hands again.

Purchase ledger on your knee
Y...

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My dear friends,

With great pleasure I want to participate, to all of you, the recognition that the writer and Serbian poet, Tatjana Debeljacki, has given me and which I humbly receive with joy. She interviewed me recently and published it in her literary magazine Diogen Pro Kultura .

 

If you are interested in seeing the interview, that was just published, this is the link:

 

 http://www.diogenpro.com...

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Also by Noris Roberts:

Without Excuses |

'Yes, I Will Wear One'

Yes I Will Wear One

(lines written in response the suggestion that

those who are mentally ill should wear

wristbands to identify their conditions)

 

Yes, I will wear one:
retiring, undefeated,
or at least not admitting it,
as I back away,
hot tears rolling from eyes 
spiked with despair
down cheeks
hollowed by time,
I will wave 
both my arms
in the air, cry:
It's not me...

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Abigail Wyattpoemmental healthwristbandsRedruthCornwall

Whats in a Name

I love her name
It gently alights upon my pillow
Brushing my cheek
Soft as not to awaken me
I love her name
It dreams through my night
Taking flight before the morning
Fancy like a sweet refrain
Warm it lights the summer
Time over time
Her fragrance upon my lip
No song was ever sung as sweetly
Nor did it sound so lovely

I love her name
I love her name

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TRAP!!

 

Given the senses
to see, smell, hear
taste and feel
One grows up
Embryo once;
learns to crawl
and to fall

Traits gets boned
Along with the flesh,
To cringe the eyes;
Seal the real
Terrain of the paranoid
Ears deafened to
Overlook and avoid

Odour goes foul;
In robes of pleasing egos
Ignoring the emanations
Of humanity
Touch becomes
a hidden desire
to suffice depraved ...

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Also by Juhi Gupte:

Just-in-time |

MY FATHER'S WATCH

   MY FATHER’S WATCH

Almost a year after he died
I’m wearing my father’s watch
Automatic, Swiss, 1947
I looked it up on line
The local old fashioned jeweller
Says it’s a very nice watch
Leave it alone, don’t mess with it
Just wear it all the time
It has old fashioned ways
A turn before bed, another
In the morning and one
Just about midday
Although automatic
It needs the attention
...

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David SubacchiWelsh PoetryLiverpool poetryItaly

Rain

I hear the pat of a falling drop
On the skylight above my bed.
Sleep won't come early tonight.
The sound repeats and I dread
That drumming keeping me awake.

I lie awake in torrent
Churning the day gone past.
Hoping my woes and my anxieties
Will drown in the self pity that is -
The pounding of the rain.

Fatigued. My weary body
Throws up an umbrella up to stop
Further thought from hi...

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Lost and Found

Being blind was not something new to me. In fact, I was so used to the darkness, that light hurts my eyes. When did I get so used to exsisting?


Life passed before my eyes; hours turned into days, days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into years. All I had left was darkness; I was surrounded.

Suffocating. I was suffocating. The words were caught in my throat, and my eyes squeezed to keep...

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Also by Chandana:

In Regards To |

Paper Dreams

Paper Dreams.

On a grotty Northern Rail from Manchester to Leeds,
a poet feeds his love for words by
pouring his heart out onto crumpled receipts.
A baby bleats.
The clink of the track as rhythmic as heart beats.
The nasal voiceover floats through the carriage
and bloats the ears of tired commuters;
spiral eyed from a day in front of computers.
Nothing but a coffee cup to see them throu...

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🌷(1)

commuterstransport

what can i say?

what i see is what i want,

but what i see doesn't see my want

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Riding a Tiger

On face a sham normalcy

the core filled with dread

 

At a very cusp of no return

can’t help but forge ahead

 

 All deemed plain pushover

how it ended up otherwise 

 

None other there to fault

since caught in own devise

 

Those efforts painstaking

 a well thought over intent

 

Ended in such an imbroglio

that no one could prevent

 

Resources all...

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confusionconflict

the raven speaks unto the dove (new edit)

 

I was sent to sea

A long time before you, dove.

And Honestly, I flew above

It's storms and moved for Him these great, black wings

In search of land. In the vast freedom of Nothing

I beat.

 

Until my reality was abandoned.

 God’s faithful servant, Noah

And every one of God’s men cheered for

the fortuitous return

of you

 

...

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A Foreign Wood

 

The empire called for more men, and they came.

Shipped from sub-continent

to western front,

Gallipoli, Mesopotamia, East Africa, 

largest volunteer army in the world.

They weren’t ready for the cold;

couldn’t understand new officers

when theirs were slain. 

Some wounded, shipped to England,

died and were buried

in a corner of a foreign wood

with Muslim honours...

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🌷(1)

A Poet's View

Imagery is not always metaphorical

But often the result of our selective senses

Seeking fact

Further filtered through the poet’s head

And heart

To an essence

That speaks in multiplicity

Whether intended

Or not.

 

 

 

Cynthia Buell Thomas

July, 2015

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Also by Cynthia Buell Thomas:

Points |

Storm inside a man

Tuffan ki shakal me ham jab ayenge

Sab ke hosh ud jayenge

Aadhi duniyan dubo denge apni lahron se

Jis din ham josh me ayenge.

 

Behoshi ka aalam h charo or

Jab tak ham nashe me hai

Halchal macha denge sare jahan me

Jish din ham hosh me ayenge.

 

Bhid me chhup kar baithe h abhi ham

Lage hai khud ko tarashane me

Aa gye jis din bazaar me bikne ko

Log sabse jyada...

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What those who know don't hear

Once upon a time

I sat on a mountain
Forgot to look
At the sky
Forgot to watch 
My feet 
Didn't see 
The Lightning
Flash
Across the 
Thought patterns 
Which could have been
My mind
Didn't notice 
Ideas take shape
As the rain
Made the grass
Grow
And the sounds 
Which deafened 
My ears
Went unheard
Because of
The noise 
Inside
...

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Road Home

I drove home from Sunday night folk club with a storm over my house in the distance.  The beginning of this came to me.

 

 

Road Home

 

Leaves and walls and windows spin,

a jigsaw broken by a falling sun.

Heat,

the road home,

a breaking storm.

I wonder what we began.

 

There is no calm centre,

power and colour after.

 

Yesterday isn’t the journey,

no...

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lyricspoemabstract surreal

like stars

Like the stars up above are your sparkling eyes, You make me happy when you smile, like a surprise Your face i adore, And the love i have for you grows more and more I hope someday we get to explore the world Im just thankful to god that your in my life.

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Also by olivia:

nieve |

cars

I hate speed

Licence to kill, not a thrill

There is no need,  for any kind of speed

Wanker Bankers thrive on it

Arrogant tossers delight in it

Put them on a treadmill to charge batteries

Take away their car keys for life

Coppers should set an example

Instead of speeding at every opportunity

One law for them, another for the lower orders

Cars are murderous machines

...

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Religion

Religion
Sunday morning and up out of bed
Time to inscribe more beliefs in your head 
Listen to preacher for he says no wrongs
But ignore all the pictures of boys dressed up in thongs.
The blood and the body will nourish your soul
And his words and a book will make you whole. 
We look onto Jesus for what to do next 
He guides you, he's in you, it's not that complex.
This man in white robe...

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Also by K.G. Mikel:

Soliloquy of a psychopath at Gunpoint |

It’s not rain

Fire erupts furiously

A roar of thunderous anger

Followed by a rush of garishly smoke

A message released in desperation

Begging for acknowledgement

Only to dissipate 

To vanish

To float past heaven

As the sounds and smells become part of the world

It is exposed

Seen to death

The final act

A lone and solemn drop

Emerges

Subtly slipping past sight

Falling...

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P4

I fell in love with Vic in June,
one sunny Dulwich afternoon.
I revelled in her company.
She didn’t fall in love with me.

It’s foolish, but it feels right
that I should keep my torch alight;
my heart demands that I defer
to love, and for the love of her
who wants me only as a friend,
I’ll simply let myself pretend
that one day, maybe, she might wake 
and recognise a telling ache.
I k...

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Out Dogs and More Along With You

n our home in Aughagreagh we used to have our share of the local sessions, where neighbours met up to party, tonight in one house, next night in someone else’s. This tells of a local house where the wife had a short tolerance after a certain hour and wanted the house cleared. The locals, out of a sense of fun and divilment, were not for moving… I wrote a version of this before and lost the words o...

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FOLKSAYINGSCulture

SHADES OF SURFING

~~Watching wet suited fella’s a’bobbing
Got to wondering and then some thinking
Why so much sitting, and waiting
Continuous bobbing with legs a’dangling
There goes a wave, what’s wrong with it?
Is he just enjoying a tight suited, comfortable, sit?

Occasionally...  Very occasionally, whilst waiting
Activity will occur, legs and arms wildly thrashing
Damn, missed the crest.  One of the bes...

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HumourSeaSexSurfing

Dangerous

Dangerous men are governed by others , who dictate the way of the past . There duty to pray for forgiveness . They forget forgiveness won't last . There hatered , there greed and domination . Is born into there soles at birth . Thinking all females are there for there taking , and only them should they ever serve . But serving them females are committed , becoming betrayed , used and abused . So b...

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This Place

 

This building, this monument to my demise

This place supplanted for working I have come to despise

 

This battleground of angst and stress

Its tendrils tear down and barriers undress

 

My everything lies broken upstairs in my mind

My hopes and my dreams like dust from the grind

 

A warzone where many face few

An enemy within each day anew

 

My brain I’ll ca...

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