That music be the food of love,
Is true without a doubt.
But could I ask you just this once
To take your earphones out!

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The Thames (London) 
 
Not deeply profound 
Or profound in its depth 
 
Hmm 
 
I may not have a fantastic social life presently 
But I do have a web presence; www.seolondonsurrey.co.uk . 
 
WASP 
 
You think you're a social butterfly 
But you're more of a bee 
Honey 
 
 
Radiohead 
 
Resisting 
In a persistent 
Vegetative 
State 
"Appalled ironic pa...

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The kestrel he hovers above

Like your heart, he’s a hunter for love

His wings are so strong

His tail is so long

He’s silent but good company.

The driftwood it lies on the beach

Echoing the highest tide’s reach.

I’m driftwood myself

On the Atlantic shelf

But I hope you’re the lover for me.

Your hair it is salt from the sea

Brine-stiff...

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Clever People

Clever people can be cruel.

They see vulnerable feelings

In others

And manipulate those emotions

To control

Continually.

Clever people can be witty.

They see the weaknesses

Of others

And lampoon those failings

To cut

Condescendingly.

Clever people can be blind.

They never see

In themselves

Cri...

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The sky was pitch quiet

With a slight breeze

Undercutting the smoke

Of the two welsh girls

(who I am guessing

Could have been sisters)

But I still couldn’t get

You out of my mind.

The band were on a break

At the palm tree

Near victoria park

And chris had just texted me

Saying he was struggling

To get money...

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I walked along the beach,

Just after dawn,

Buttoning my jacket

On a misty morn.

The air was clinging,

Cool and damp.

I came across what looked

Like an old oil lamp.

It had been washed up

On the foamy shore.

I gave it a rub,

Hoping to restore.

Suddenly I got a shock,

A genie appeared,

A funny little genie

With long flowing beard.

He...

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We have thought up each other

Once to meet and realize

You can be the only lover,

Intelligent and so wise.

You and I are so romantic

We can’t live without love dreams,

Only love protects from panic,

Only love can give us wings.

We don’t need riches and gold,

Reciprocity of fee...

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This was my Sun Day.

In company of two fine friends.

Bus ride for a driver,

actually viewing the scenery.

Chit chat stroll and coffees.

Fine silver sand,

rock pools in rocks.

Peer, gaze and search.

Stroll along,

photograph,

and rest atop a rock mound.

It was a fine day

with fine friends.

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The window sticker pleaded

'give a gnome a home'

His nose cold against the glass

Wurzel Gummage sang

about the alphabet.

I held Amanda close.

The black doll slept

Through the 7am calm

Cheek-a-boo Clip-on

clasping the light-pull

applauding the darkness

feeling alone

Snow White projected

on the wall

Engrained in my...

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These fine lines we dance around
Are dangerous markers
this self imagery is damaged
and deformed
this morning.
Too much alcohol
Too much stress
To many late nights
Too many things to detest
Crawl to the bathroom to scrub it away
Convince ourselves we shall never drink again
Mirrors are useless
They tell us nothing about ourselves
Only that we age
The answers ar...

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Here’s a little thingy
About how man loves his lingerie
Here’s a growing third leg
As he begs
Pants
For her skirt
To be lifted
He likes a bit of stocking and suspender
A fishnet defender
For the dying art of hosiery
He’s a growing lad
And he skips the tom boy fads of fashion
They don’t turn him on
Doesn’t flick the switch
Nor scratch the bitch of an itch
Girls in m...

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The hand ballet,

your bright mind dancing,

fingers singing,

fashioning passion

from thin air,

soul gestures,

laying hold of hope,

dismissing despair,

daring to delve, wisely

into the whys,

caressing the future,

sculpting life.

While I sit with

arms crossed

like a cripple

at a ceilidh.

Admiring, longing.

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Perceptions of a ragged space,

all that was left by the human race,

there's not a lot left to see at all,

as their carelessness was seldom small.

Let's dig around 

in that frazzled ground,

for that's where there's bound to be,

some signs of dodgy chemistry

or maybe just a little radiation,

the sort that killed another nation,

though they sai...

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It's said of a good picture,

That it is worth a thousand words,

But well known laws demand,

That for each and every action,

So is sired an equal, opposing reaction,

And so this like all else,

Has a complete reverse.

But what word is worth,

Quite so many pictures as a whole?

And to shed ambiguity where

Pictures shed their light,

An important word...

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I just don't know what to do with myself

on the occasions I can locate it.

Oh, it's circled on maps but when I stop to ask

then dust has covered the traces.

In these living rooms and in limbo,

on all fours and on tiptoe I chase it.

Of course I've read the self-help literature,

Bergson et al and etcetera;

the brain is but a pilferer

and in theory all can be he...

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Wreckuiem

A hole in your stomach

Drip, drip, dripped black goo

I looked at you

Elevated and essentially gone

I was too scared to say goodbye

I was too ashamed to cry

I wondered what went wrong

What had I done?

I thought I took such good care

You were clean and full and loved

I missed you when you weren’t there

We shared my escapes and escap...

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                                                 African Plains

                Have you noticed that time slips between us?

At first we’re venturing Venutian skies,

Then thirty-six hours within an Earthly hour –

And we’re sitting within a Martian day.

                Have you noticed,

                                Have you noticed the distance

Be...

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A private thought process of yours,

Lost inside, free-falling.

Under lock and key for no one else to see,

No other place I'd rather be.

Closed your eyes like projector blinds,

I'd be alive watching your dreams, some movie reel.

Made me feel like Marilyn Monroe,

Rewind and play me.

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Dopamine and seratonin

with seemingly whimsical shift

magnify my bile and moaning

til every nerve reverbs with conflict.

The faint hearted keep their distance

when my hormones rudely intrude,

turning sorrow into grievance,

spitting expletives sharp and crude.

I know it's merely PMT

which brings about this change in me,

but that doesn't help me fetter

...

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Our sentences are short
Perfunctory statements
Serving a purpose

Our brief embrace is feeble
Lacks the backbone
The spine of years ago

Your easiness with everyone is gone
My insight into everything is gone
In this broken-down place

We built ourselves a fire
But who will be the first to admit...

Time is a ticking machine
Household tasks are an escape
Oh, wil...

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All things are transient,
The rowan tree grows,
season on season.
Senses the earth breathe
and shift in her roots.
The sun feeds her leaves.
Blossoms fruit to ripe red berries.
Away the leaves fall,
Night sky winters,
And frost snaps at her branches
She will repeat to fade.

 a reposting, well its that time of year eh ?

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WE ARE KINDRED ANGEL SPIRITS

WE TRAVEL AROUND THE WORLD

BE IT MAN OR BEAST WE SEE THE NEED

THEN SCATTER ANGEL DUST TO HELP THEM HEAL..

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There are Magic fields

Where friends would play

On a waving blade

A fluffed mouse

Does act upon a tight rope of green

Fields we walk

Winding snaking making more

Paths which from where we have been

To where we go

Are marked upon life's journey

For if we turned another way

Who could say

We may not be to walk upon

The field of magic

We have d...

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Undone gives an insight into the life of a gay guy living a hedonistic life on Canal Street; evenings fuelled by drink and drugs, ending in one-night stands. In the course of the story, he meets a guy new to the scene and relatively innocent.

As a gay man who has known the scene in Manchester, the first half of this play left me concerned that it was not going to show anything original. Don...

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As if the gods were striking the strings
The air the piano plays
And I listening am transported
Back to former slower days
When the world was better and people purer
For all the faults we know they had
And I look at the world and its woes
And its greed and I am sad.

It is strange...

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MOMENTS

The tree's huge canopy ~
Shares its movement in the Summer breeze.
But close your eyes
And you will hear
Them speak to each other.

Two lovers fight ~
Words hurled intent to violate the mind.
But open your heart,
And you will see
The fear in their eyes; fighting for themselves.

A son cries silently ~
As his mother spits his father's name on the floor,
A...

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Flashing blue Lights

You pull me over

Bawl me out

Driving without due care and attention

A danger to all around me

Guess I was pushing my luck

Cutting up a copper

On a roundabout…

‘Wing mirrors are made for looking in

Sat Navs an idle distraction’

I listen to the lecture

Shake in my boots

Bat my eyelids

The hint of a tear

All pouting...

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Copyright Year: © 2009 Wytchewoode

Characters: A Pope by direct and incontrovertible Sacred Apostolic
Succession in the Diskordian Church of the SubGenius of Uncle "Bob".

Scene:...

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Lamplight on sand

Reflecting majesty of the sea.

Everything measured in tide

And wonder.

Moonlit silhouette

Of smoke string ribbon

Cooling on a brim

Of stars.

Ceasefire of the senses

Brush a cushioned foot

Across dune curtained outlets

Toe a line.

Distance is soundproof

Almost silent but the wind

Flickering mild suggestio...

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We braved the wasps and nettles,

feet fearing the moist scrabble of tiny frogs

and came home

Twice

with bags of dripping berries.

Elicited nods from sweet old ladies

and questions of recipes.

Oh I scored points for making jam not pies.

To see my babies lined up

neatly labelled

little bonnets

crisp.

To see the sun slant through the ruby

and fee...

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We have to surmount many barriers with each new day we face

Trying to get past or over them; sometimes forced to re-trace

Everyone is trying to get by in what’s called ‘Societies Norm’

Looking for a sign or signal to help us along and conform

We all need markers to act as a series of signposts and gu...

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Bobbing in moonlight, pleasured by waves;

journeying through swell, under stars;

buffeted by wildness, first murmur, then roar;

smacked against rocks, the foam and the crack

Coasting on rollers, taken for a ride;

immersion, hope, exhilaration, surprise;

borne along on billows, swept up by joy;

directed where the tide decides

Chill dawn emerging,...

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Here is some new poetry. Enjoy :) 

Dinosaurs

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The insanity of madness could

With dubious acclaim

Attach itself, should love be true

By any other name

To periods within us all

When drawn into that farce

That reads so oddly once removed

Or times when love has passed

There is no cure, there is no trial

For committers of the crime

So take each sentence, sum it up

Accept and do your time.

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reflections of faces laughing
ping
    pong
from the windows
the complexions and complexities
of their emotion
detailed by the trains shadow
passing
       by
         us
           all

suddenly
        washed
              away
by the train vanishing
                      into
                          the
                             distance
faces turn ...

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my Ivory tower

has a window with a view

outside the officials

bustle in their uniforms

with talismans of status

the servants and the maids

mingle with the others

each believes that peoples

can be classified by classes

those who have their trades

the shirkers and the thieves

acerbic, I watch them

nobody sees me

none of them see anything

...

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Dust sprinkles wheel movement
Humid mist cataracts swolen computer
How many have fought here past?
Delicate warm water flows you not last
Dark glaze window reflection shadow
Sound drum tremble what next?
Engine grinds end edge event

 Delicate moment gone now spent  

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Proud as a Peacock

On Sat’day, went to the market –

And stopped for some tea and a bun –

I sat in the old market café –

Glad all of the shopping was done.

The day was all drizzly and dreary

With nothing much lovely to see

When this young man strolled to the counter:

And how everyone stared – even me!

He was dressed, head to toe, in black gar...

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(Something new for the Erotic Poetry Night at Malton Literature Festival)

“What is the bidding?”

“The bidding is thine” she said.

He spoke and she took position,

Before him, in shadow.

“What is the bidding?”

“The bidding is thine” she said.

He held her hips.

He clicked his tongue softly in her ear,

Before tracing the line of her neck with it.

...

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I SAT ON A PARK BENCH TODAY......

I sat on a park bench today.....

Not because I thought it the thing to do....

Or because I thought it poetic....

Not because I thought it would make me look artistic,,

Or thoughtful...

I sat on the park bench because I was tired...

My body was begging me

For a sit down

I sat on a park bench today

And......

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Persephone's Creek (April 2009)

She'd have lived but for the shoes,
I'll not forget the irony in that.

When we were young, she had more blisters
on her feet than freckles on her nose
and would sooth her terraced toes
by mine, in Persephone's Creek,
half caught between the underworld and here.

She would prophecy of dresses,
wish for a fedora
(which I a...

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red X

my factor:

what a gas-

I'll have fun 

with my

exclusion

zone.

Pandora's box

all 12 in its collection

red xed.

Lovingly

construed

statistical analysis: 

red x

marks the spot.

Poems

budding like 

flowers

and

trees

bucolic-

can go and

frolic

x

Jokey

authorial 

poeti...

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A Darling August

Black trousers

 Green coat

She won’t be going home alone tonight

Right?

Wrong

She’s a he and he is buzzing

A busy bee

A regular hive of industry

A true blue assed fly in the ointment

He’s making an appointment with destiny

A testimony to his enduring artistic bent

Primitive colours morda...

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Chilcot - a cold wind wraps Great Britain’s heart

Her archetypal refuge - cold as death.

He broke the last taboo for ego’s gain

In self-aggrandisement stole other’s breath.

And such is our disgrace, none barred his way

Save one whose easy Honour was upheld.

The rest in ignominy bowed his will

Outside: a million, impotent, repelled.

No darker hour this...

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Here are the stats for July. Due to technical problems the site was down for 2 days and this is reflected in the stats.

    * 3,819 registered members

    * 1.7 million hits

    * 2,356 log-ins to the site

    * 116 new events put on gig guide

    * 50 events updated on gig guide

    * 13 poets added their profiles to the Poets' Showcase

    * 769 Poets are no...

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A Skussle of Bips prowl through crumid darkness,
coniphany voices send thoughts of Partet.
The Glucker they seek is salmy
and filled with porm.
Foona-Plate is almost upon them
and soon fildew will be theirs.

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