Hi Folks - the closing date for 52 Hertz entries is today.  You can still enter if you tag your poem with 52 Hertz, as it will be picked up by the link I give you to all the entries.  The longer you leave it though, the less opportunity you will be giving people to read and vote on your work.

I've been delighted by the number and quality of the poetry submitted - and blown away by the diff...

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Just a reminder to folk that the 52 Hertz WOL comp is still running until the end of this month.  We are writing to the theme of alienation/loneliness/isolation.  My penultimate blog explains a little better the marine inspiration for this :)

I've attached a new piece of music - perhaps that will inspire more poems than the last one.  So far, we aren't awash with bottles, but let's see how ...

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Hi Folks.  Does anyone fancy having a go at a new WOL competition? 

I'm posting a link to a newspaper article that explains the theme.  Basically, think loneliness, isolation,  alienation.   I'm sure some of us may already have drawers bursting at the seams with poems written on the subject, but if not, you can always put pen to paper or finger to key...

In case you find the whole subje...

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Chlamydia, Chlamydia

How could a name be prettier?

You’re up there with the Chardonnays

Bianca, Sharon, Mel and Jade

Once kiss from you my lips enflame

To pass you by it causes pain

you burn your name into my hide

you penetrate me deep inside

one look from me into your eyes

and I’m left barren, sterilised…

Chlamydia, chlamydia

No name on earth i...

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Of all the joints in all the towns in all the world, he walks onto mine…

He read me like a Mills & Boon

thought he knew my heart’s desire

swept me off my corny feet

set curled up toes on fire

For him podiatry was challenge

experimental, avant guarde

ejaculatory pedi-torture

hammered toes blown fast and hard

He innovated long and often

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Since everyone seemed to enjoy the Escape themed poetry competition, I thought I’d introduce a new theme pretty quickly before the holiday season begins - I hope you like it.  I wanted something totally different that opened us all up to lighter poetry.  The competition will run till 6thJuly with votes to me by 10thJuly.  I wasn’t proposing to put up any prize money.  I don’t think people are m...

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There are no young at the Yeung Sing hotel,

only those who grew old, singing for their supper,

or was it breakfast?  For night turns to day, turns to night,

waiting to break fast, to break bread, to break owt

of the Yeung Sing Hotel where the hands of the clock stand still

like the ends of the arms of the chef who mans the grill.

Daylight saving seems a concept made in h...

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My daughter revises chemistry,

with a little help from brother.

(our family expert on such things)

whilst I listen on,

baffled by the formulas and names

the purpose of it all,

like a freshwater fish

all at sea with the brine

I need to be heard,

to matter amongst the matter,

add weight to the atoms of this foreign world.

‘What is the stuff of life?’ I ...

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You send me back my wedding dress

20 years too late…

wrapped not in finest tissue

confetti tumbling from its folds

nor draped across a lover’s arms

regret pressed to every empty seam

not folded at all

but jammed like stinking gym shorts

into this case, too small

compressed, flattened

obligatory bow adrift

sad reminder of all that was.

An ivo...

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I’m not quite sure

when it was I disappeared

the precise moment, minute, hour

I only know that one day

it happened

I ceased to exist

to count,

to matter,

to be.

Nobody told me so,

the milkman still knocked,

neighbours still smiled,

kettles still boiled,

and children still cried,

but somewhere, somehow

someone flicked a switch

...

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If you enjoyed the poem, you may like to listen to the song, recorded with my 2 lovely sisters and one niece.

Merry Christmas everybody!  xxxx

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Somewhere
out there
beyond the grey
there is yellow
orange, gold,
or so I’m told…
A circle, a closed loop
a hoop, a disk, a ring
a very precious thing,
the most common non polygon,
metaphysically and righteously speaking
'Gone, Gone, Gone, Go-o-o-one…'
This ball of molten gas and fire,
I think it’s called a sun
yes a sun, a sun it is,
I know it’s there

cos I re...

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Where do we begin, indeed?  Pandora’s Box surpassed our wildest expectations, providing all with a selection of thoroughly entertaining poetry. Opened on May18th with an inauspicious walk down Gropecuntelane, the box closed on May 30th, shut tightly by the hand of Epimetheus himself!  Between those dates 26 of our finest poets pitched in to thrill, enthral, amuse, bewitch us all, each with thei...

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Well - I asked for more filth and you let me have it….

Not sure if it was St Valentine, Cupid, or the sub zero temperatures – but something saw us all turning up the heat for February… Indeed, overtly sexual poetry rained down on us faster than the average storm cloud bursting over Manchester…

In Vanilla Sex, Cynthia Buell-Thomas avidly urged us to ‘come dine on her’.  A bold and ...

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Romeo  Romeo - where for art thou Romeo?

Speak that I should hear your voice, rejoice

that deafened ear should hear you call my name…

_____________

The quality of love is not defined,

yet trippeth from the tongue with gentle ease,

to each and every one of us a meaning

as fickle as the feather on a breeze

Speak not to me, I pray, of star crossed lovers...

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(sung)

‘What’s it all about - Alfie?

Is it just for the moment we live?’

What’s it all about?

That it’s all in a piece of bread

The breaking of and the partaking of

Transubstantiation is a very long word

Can you spell it?

And I’d so love to join them

But bless me, I can’t

As they jump in and out of water

Praising the lord and trying oh so ha...

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Plane touches tarmac in Manchester

Heart bumps, bumps again

Grey skies and drizzle without

Dry, cracked and broken within

With just the chink of light

Jet lagged and travel sick

Shell shocked and battle worn

Choked on wasted, recycled breath

Overwhelmed by cold refreshing air

Numbed, stunned, automated

A seat, a number, a boarding card

Confinement ce...

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(Upon the I in poetry)

You’re cramping my style

You pen poised

Backroom boys

You’re cramping it, clamping

Stamp stamp stamping it

You’re a cancer canker in my brain

You’re a pain

In my arse

That I’ll eat for your pleasure

In great measure

If it gets you off my back

Track from the lack, lack, lack

Of it, you, one…

Roll up, roll up

Take a look

At the pathetic

Cathartic

Co...

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