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(I'm aware this is a controversial poem and I hope not to offend anyone but I make no conclusions, I only ask questions)

The nature was deteriorating.
The sky was falling down,
raining pieces of ashy soot,
crashing and burning
and you weren't there.
Why weren't you there?
The birds squawked and screeched
and in-between their cries were mine, calling
and I was reaching out to you.
I ask...

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Consumption,

      Is Greed's continuous egocentric abstinence to morality as it roams un-roman-military-checked between abstract's illusionary descriptors of post mathematics scientific logical persuasion designed, Today... Avarice is progress redefined.

In lieu of our participation in,

Never living what we recommend

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You suddenly said you had to go;

That was when I came to know

That hello sometimes means goodbye.

Now I know enough to not ask why.

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Most of us
We try
To scratch out
A living
With our broken bics
Blood and ink
Dripping meanly 
In a vague attempt 
To trace the idea 
Of a future
From somewhere 
Deep inside
And paint it 
Against the world
With its cruel way 
Of crumbling dreams 
Just before 
We reach them
Or wake up 
Or both

And we struggle so
To make sense 
Of this endless 
Nightmare 
Envying the wings
...

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I see you know the ways to glow your bodies floating nowhere to go cash money that's all you know your womanly curves showing words through sight and sound you have no disgust no regrets somehow you undress willingly you let them see you let them see with all too bare but that's the way you were trained no underwear pantie...

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The drain, the drain

It's gurgling too much

Shit covering the grate

Now housing the land

Overflowing, no bowing

Rattling the door

no one answers

Curtains twitch

No reply

Standing back,

watching

The shute overflowed

spreading like a disease

Watch it grow,

It flows, 

It grows

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Whites
            Colors
Silks
            Buttons
Bows

I glimpse your eyes fixed on me.


Fresh
              Soft
Cottons
              Warm

"Would you like to help me fold?"


Shy
              Smile
Intimate
              Touch

"I thought you'd never ask."

© Candice Reineke 2014

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I still picture your eyes and think of how I felt when you looked into mine. I remember your lips but it breaks my heart to think of the person now kissing them. The truth is,dying is better than LIVING MY SAD LIFE WITHOUT YOU...and remembering that you don't love me anymore. How long and fruitful is it to live this live in tears,knowing that you will never walk in to my lonely heart? ...

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Please forgive me if there is typos.

I sit at the altar, waiting for his reply,

Humbled by his presence.

I feel him there, his overwhelmingly strong, yet respectful vibe.

"What is it my son" He asks.

" Why did you choose me father"

He replys " I saw before you were born, by the fate of the norns,  what you would be. I saw how much courage that heart of yours holds"

Thank ...

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Well since Sir Alex left us

Old Trafford’s citadel

Is not the Theatre of Dreams it was –

More like Heartbreak Hotel.

Well since old Fergie left us

The men have played like boys

We never blamed the players though

We just blamed David Moyes

We thought him a phoney

He talked such baloney

When he bought Fellaini

I could cry.

Well since young David lef...

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Manchester's gay hamlet

has long since been a sanctuary

for parlor princesses to sway their tits free

from thick veined impalers who skirted the moat;

their hot swords smoking from pint piss.

One often forgets that

cemented with the secret elixir

 of man's love for man's folly;

it was a safe and sordid Avalon.

Often lulled by the music

or some other bul...

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Despite the differences of skin color
and our cultural upbringings,
we're more than brothers of Mankind -
Technically, we're kin.

Go to the mountain
preserved by ice and snow
where the revelation of Ararat's secret
is available for everyone to know.

For the ark's existence
proves the global flood story is true
and being our brother's keeper...
Is still a right thing to do.

Descen...

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Trimming insect-laden hedges
I discern a slowing growth
as sunlight rations rampant shoots;
a shift and shedding has begun.

The grass will grow more hesitant
and idle blades forget their foe.
Spades will lean to spiders’ work
and mine will more or less be done

though respite heralds damp decay
and masking mists, and
ankle deep in slicking leaves
again, my efforts are undone.

But,...

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MUTI-COLOURED CHANGE.

Well now, maybe I’ll tell now some of my story

No glory here though

I was a fifty’s baby. A lucky baby maybe

Some would say when everything was grey

I was born to it

When you wore a suit  to go for a shit

As long as it was grey, or black

Looking back it would seem I was part of

Conceived at the start of

A changing, rearranging youth.

The ...

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Take me Home

I’m waiting for the bus
To drive me home
So that I can cry alone

Leaving behind
A beautiful face

One I trace now …
On the …

back of this leather seat 
knowing that there’s nothing that can bring you back 

just….

Waiting….

for the bus…

To drive me home
So that I won’t be alone

With words that we’re though

Ticket collector stares 
at my watery eyes 
...

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Not old enough to vote or wed

or give consent,

but old enough to be transferred                   

by men to men;

possessed.

Not old enough to drive a car,

have overdrafts or credit cards,

but old enough to be exchanged;

expended;

property.

Not old enough to live alone or own a home,

but old enough to be deceived;

to be perceived as third and four...

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Blessed are we

As the morning night, does turn to grey, We see the coming of the breaking day
Birds will sing their morning cries, to welcome back the morning skies
Fluttering their wings up in the trees , enjoying the touch of the morning breeze
Clouds will drift and float away, bringing the promise of a beautiful day
Creatures that moved throughout the night, disappeared, now out of sight
...

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My cat, beside me takes up 

Bed-space

And I say that although

It isn't true

Because it sounds better

Than sitting alone

A year or two of empty

Lunch table

Brown shit chairs

With cold legs

That stare back at you

Evil experience of your lunch-face

While me and my PMS Lucifer 

Lay comfortably on the edge

Feet curled up on the wood holding 

A lumpy matt...

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Do not describe the sunset, regardless. Never
write about the buttery moonrise,
especially near the beginning: everyone
just switches off, and if they don’t
they should.

Do not mention war; any of the many.
Those possibilities are nothing to do with me.
They belong to others, to a family friend
who knows mountainsides blooming
great mushrooms of dust.

Everyone has had enough of trees...

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Ting Tongs in Bong Bongo Land.....

it's all becoming clear.

UKIP's policy statements

were penned by Edward Lear.

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Hey good people what’s going down
Iced water is flowing all over town
Everybody tells me it’s just a craze
It’s got me in a complete daze
Why haven’t I yet been nominated?
I am becoming increasingly frustrated
Cold and soaking wet is the way to go
You too can be the star of the show
When am I going to make a splash
And be relieved of a load of cash
Could it be my lucky day maybe?
Bring ...

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These memories fade into me

Each time I gather

They become seamless

They've woven themselves into the stars

Beauty as they are

It is my past

To the melody of my soul

I caught them dancing

As if they didn't mind the memories that cried

They thought them loveliness

Please watch for when they fall

That is you or I falling to harmonize

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I remember staring

past your shoulder.

I remember reading to you 

the lines you have now left

in another's sand. 

I read your words as 

some acknowledgement,

acknowledgement of its past

though our shoulders

were always in the way.

I apologise for this.

My miss-spellings are 

my way of saying sorry. 

words and foto  T Carroll

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The moment you shown dilemma
Whether to stop or to move on,
Has put me on to a dilemma
Whether to stop or to move on.

Life looks playing a mock
And wants me to weap,
That seems flirting with luck
And made me to wait and peep.

The moment you shown dilemma
Whether to slap or to smile,
Has put me on to a dilemma
Whether to be sorry or to smile.

Your innocense seems hurted a lot
And...

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The sun rose bleakly

But the old man said,

“Hail to the morning!

I am not yet dead.

I have music to hear

And words to be read;

Enough in the cupboard

To see me fed.

Through the march of years

Many tears I’ve shed.

And my greatest friends

Have long since fled.

But at close of this day

I may lay my head

Upon the sheets

Of my own warm bed.

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Lay me down in river's rush,

carry me to the shore,

dry my skin in the smile of the sun,

-leave me wanting more.

Take my hand through meadow's mist,

scent my hair with flowers,

show me love with one sweet kiss,

share with me night's hours.

Dress and clothe me - leaf and moss,

be my love forever,

take me far but keep me close,

- nature bound together

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for Grant Tarbard

Northern kids, their futures

predictable, they grafted dourly

five days a week down pits, in shops

and on the factory floor –

paying their way with some left

for vinyl, speed and threads.

Travelling miles by train each

weekend with a change of clothes

and a box of classic tracks

– minor hits and rarities

by blacks the charts ignored –

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Are we just too lazy to stir,

toil and breed?

Too fey to strive for life,

our own and others'?

I guess we are.

So why knock immigrants?

Who else will clean our incontinent beds

when we are old and sad?

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And always the silent smell
Of music follows
Each time his name is mentioned
Never justice,

Covered in ignored pleadings
With pinpointed accuracy
Constantly kicking
The ladder away
From his freedom

Evidence suppressed and misplaced
For 16 years
In cross currents
Of ignored medical reports

Miscarrying justice
And innocence
Constantly brushed
Under the carpets

Drawn back on ...

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A Librarians Concern

     Once the word has been written,

You cannot necessarily erase it,

For no matter how hard you rub

The page,

     The word remains.

     You could if you so wished,

Rub so hard that the page itself,

Becomes tatty and frayed,

Leaving blemishes

Upon the page underneath,

A page that may have been

A future not yet written,

Or...

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How dare you say

That everything turned okay

That my dreams didn’t diminish

And that the pain could now finish

How dare you say

You would take away my fear

Give me a place to call home

And begin a dream here

How dare you say

It wasn’t you that betrayed

Whether it was the love of a daughter

Or that daughter’s real father

How dare you say

I would make it up

...

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Suncream, Sandwiches, Sea and Sand

Warm sheltered rock-pools on the beach

This British green and pleasant land

Where Donkeys'  poo and Seagulls' screech

Grandad’s hanky on his head

His rosy cheeks a shade of peach

His Daily Mirror long since read

Where Donkeys' poo and Seagulls' screech

Grandma’s at Bingo every night

Her handbag with her like a leech

Her rol...

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Amongst the bitten twigs and fur caught,
low shrubs where each of us
is half in the tree and half in the rock,
a skull the thumb size of climbing sleeps.

If you do not come back
I will untie the ribbons
from my hair and open the hollow
parts of my head to the wind.

You said I would do that
enough myself  -  my teeth cut,
my goose feather torn  -
no excuse for you 

baying in ...

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(vid version http://miladysa.blogspot.co.uk/2014/09/pre-loved-skin.html )

Barely worn,

impossible to tell,

the previous owner,

wore it well.

Callously made,

so you can you feel,

rich and successful,

sexy and ideal.

So this season!

Screaming to appear,

on catwalk and red carpet,

at awards and film premiere.

Dying to be worn,

bequeathing ...

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The heart

Deep inside, where the beat goes on, 
The pulsation of life, where the beat is strong
The heart is the place, the foundations of trust,
The place of emotions, Including, passion and lust. 
From the day we are born, to the last moment of breath, 
It will keep on beating, until the, inevitable death.
The mixture of emotions, That defines who we are, 
The feelings that dwell withi...

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Dog and Dragonfly

On an island in the sky

'Neath the rain that paints the lives

Sits the ever-watching eyes

Breathing the ever-waiting sighs

For now we're forced to hide

Our patter of thoughts collide

Will showers of longing subside?

And our dreams remain inside?

Songs of aviary cries

Of ancient locust lullabies

Percussion pounds and will disguise

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written: 8/20/14

People are such selfish creatures. 

They say they love picking flowers.

But when you pick a flower, you kill it. 

People take another living things life,

just so they can have the pleasure of looking at it. 

People pick things, and will pick them, untill they destory everything 

..and that, is just so very sad.

    ...

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You look at me and what do you see

You look at me all the time

With that supercilious grin

Scanning me from head to foot

You pass no comment

And yet you say it all with your eyes

They say that every picture tells a tale

But you never draw, paint or photograph

What you see

You never describe or make a photo fit

Instead you just stop, blink and stare

You looking...

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Sunny mornings spent alone,

Calls for news named as such,

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Things

take

form

metaphors

and

music

scores

vignettes

inside

a

television

set

a

riff

on

a

broken

guitar

a

checked

table

cloth

windows

letting in

light

a

drunk

moth

a

strange

monologue

but

not

about

love

we

are thrown

together

into

a

beautiful

hesitation

of

words

your

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The Crooked Beast At The End Of A Crooked Path

I saw him rise like a dark spectre
in the clouds
at the end of a crooked path
his horned head cocked
spreading his cloven claws
astride the graves that nestled
safe beneath the trees
his wings unfurling
across the sky
and gathering in
the long dead souls
beneath the ground
and I thought
I heard the demon say
“I told you I would not fo...

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Do all Dogs

go to Heaven?

I sure hope

It's true.

Cause when I

get to Heaven

I want to be

there with you.

You are gone

now but

for a

short while.

When I see

you again

I'll have a

big smile.

I'll sit upon

the ground

while you run

that crazy little circle.

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You brush past a bush, 
it ambushes, scratches you, you
hardly notice it, it
gets septic,
death follows.
The sniper picks out you, you
are the unlucky one, one
of the others could easily have been, been
shot, shot dead, but no,
death follows.
Life is boobytrapped. 
It's a minefield, any minute, minute
germs, viruses, bacteria can invade, invade
through the tiniest crack, crack
t...

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It's happening.

I didn't think it would

To me, I

Blinkered myself

From harsh realities

I didn't want to see -

Plunged myself

Head long in sands

As, unbeknownst to me,

Those particles beneath my feet

Were leaking out into

Some secret

Ether.

When I was young

I had a naive notion that

All parts were mechanised,

Like robot cogs

Spinning...

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Sometimes we’re only supposed to look and not see

But each of us is, as we are supposed to be

If it wasn’t for you

And if it wasn’t for me

Then our meeting would never have come to pass

You are loved for being you, no buts nor alas

So little do you know that so much of me has changed

You saw through my defences, over years they had aged

So grateful ...

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A voice is still unheard and a face still is unseen,

there's a heart beating in the crowd of mean,

its innocence has been pushed down beneath,

it does not trust the world whether it will let keep it clean.

It has been hurt and ditched before,

and now its afraid to come forth,

it was torned down, broken and burned into ashes,

and it took long enough to join the pieces.

...

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The scent of her skin

In pleasurable tones

Leaves him wanting more

The promise in her touch

With lingering strokes

Raises firmness to his core

The light in her eyes

Contradicts their darkness

Adds a flicker to his flame

The curve of her breast

In all it's subtlety

Brings fragility to his frame

The softness of her lips

In all their fullness

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I saw you in my dream again

last night.

You looked at me accusingly

unsmiling

angry, disappointed

disapproving.

I ran after you

calling, begging you to

stop.

You turned around and 

disappeared

mingling with the crowd.

I sat down on the dusty road

as I've done before 

countless times

crying

wondering why you never talk.

Why you never tell me why.

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~~Life down here seems like in an alien land!
And though it’s a handiwork of Your precious hand!!
I am not comfortable in this alien band,
I wish I was placed on a safer sand.

“Let the dusk soon perish,
And dawn appear that I might cherish,
Let me soon cross this tedious mountain,
That I might be quenched by thy freshening fountain,
Let me soon recognize that is alien land,
Is your pr...

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Strangled thoughts inside and out,

Lost chances rust in lonely sidings.

Tailor driven across hope

buried deep under steelworks

strangled in lies

hope made of granite

and reinforced steel.

The tosser on the dance floor

Throw him into an IT grave.

Once you get used to something, your

imagination loses its mind, use your

imagination and look at som...

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ST BLAISE

St Blaise is the patron saint

His image adorns the walls

Defender of Dubrovnik

Also patron of the throat

Once a year as a young boy

Two candles beneath my chin

Held tightly to form a cross

To celebrate the feast day

And to keep my voice from harm

The priest mumbling his blessing

We sail out of the harbour

Anchor a little way off

...

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http://paulpykepoet.blogspot.co.uk/2014/08/the-forest-raw-draft-to-final-poem.html

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When all the laughter stops, when it abides,
And all the tears of joy begin to dry,
When all the world looks up from aching sides,
And all the breathlessness allows a sigh.

A light, so brightly shining starts to wane,
But hidden out of sight, battles in vain.

When all the smiles are full, when they recede,
And straighten out into a furrowed frown,
When all the life in vibrancy concedes...

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Lo and behold that feeling

once more has returned

To tease test and torment

dead past willfully spurned

From window shut forever

heard unmistakable creak

A portent of ensuing havoc

and destruction it’ll wreak

Dilemmas deemed sorted

in archives since then lost

Will augment latent agony

with much heftier paid cost

An arduous uphill dr...

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Nope. Not. No, I won't!
I dare not. Do not. I don't!
Shall? Shan't! Shall I, not!
Can? Can't! Can it sot!
Never. Never. Never again!
 Okay, sorry. I give, you win.

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I would once again like to awaken with you be my side;

to have the pleasure of gazing into the beauty of your unfathomable soul through your deep dark eyes.

Through every step of it I could sense your warm presence hovering beside me;

smiling at me;

filling my being with everything that you had.

The yearning to be with you was all I could think of.

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It's a strange and dark night,

The rain is gushing against the windowpane,
Then in the still cats fight,
Foxes wail, wind howls - I am pale with worry about you.

The sounds, the blackness and stubborn miles between us
My mind's delicate fingertips try to find you,
feeling around in that house where you might be sleeping or your thoughts still reeling with the madness of frustration.

T...

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On the horizon and blurred in passing smoke
figures move into the distant fields,
and closer the dead battleground
springs red grass blades.

Here the poet silently tiptoes, grieving,
another tear-stained handkerchief,
counting dying gasps and stealing
last words meant for a mother.

And count the words,
Place them side by side
Dead grass
Here I died
Scorched mud
Missing hand
Cou...

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There are no dead like your dead.
Relentlessly impaled on your memory,
her tiny hand, his frozen bicycle,
his uniform in the doorway, halo’d in
morning light saying “I’ll be alright”,
her scarf thrown aside in the sunshine.
There are no dead.

There are no wounds like your wounds.
Bathed as a child in crimson shadows
his unseeing eyes plead for life,
her skirt in the glade, not run...

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The most unnatural thing in this world
Is a parent
Burying their child
Having to send their little angel back home to God
Losing a piece of their soul no amount of time will ever return

Seeing the ghost of that lost child age alongside their other children
Car seat empty in the back of truck
Birthdays pass with no growth to show for
No graduations to celebrate
One less daughter to walk ...

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My daughter  collects stones,

tears them out from sodden soily beds,

or picks them from the pile,

stashes them in pockets

till linings tear

and washing machine clatters

to the awkward beat

of a battered drum.

And though I chide her for the damage,

I know she can't resist

the clasp, the cut,

the spit, the rub

the nub and polish of them,

each stone its own...

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I’m sat in Nero
My mac is absent
But I have tortoise shell specs 
Coffee cups
A pen and pad
Filled with nothing but endless to do lists
Productivity promises
And I’ve just finished a tub of hummus
I think I qualify right?

A wispy voiced limp haired Lolita soundtracks this cliche 
As overpriced
Over spiced
Panini, chai’s and muffin tops
Plonk and plop
On marble topped tables 

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Two lovers with different dreams collide. Smashing both dreams into thousands of little pieces.

The two lovers grow distant as they scrabble around trying to piece their dreams back together.

In time they resent each other for the destruction, not realising that they could create new dreams together. 

By which time it was all too late.

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Deranged over the hills and far far away

ashaimed of myself , on stage , getting in a state

using certain words for unknown reasons,

on a mission ,

fuck admiring mansions i show love to the flowers more ,

listening is totally up to you yeah , give a shit really

message received loud and clear just how i like it ,

NOT silent and secretive

in the meantime

i am feeling so v...

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How to leave Soho

Un-tongue the archaic idioms of Wardour Street prose,

those acronyms and codes. Sign out for the last time.

Delete all opinionated indiscretions.

Surrender your keys and password.

Purge details of pharmacists from your phone

as if they were the names of dealers.

Time will end at six as the Swiss clock chimes;

cow chases maiden chases wa...

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The Voyeuristic Toaster

I d like to be a toaster

So I could toast you.... a tasty snack

Then watch you from the work top

Take crumpets from the rack

As you feast the buttered crumpets

I will covet in delight

When you apply buttered lipstick with every sexy bite

Jonathan Barnes

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