Blog Archives

Killing a Lion When It Was Legal, by Neha Varadharajan

19/2/2021

SPORT

There’s a lion! Inches steady,
Gun in my hand, my breath held
Tightly, not making a sound.
I have to kill this one today.

The lion’s swimming behind the bushes. In his
Own little world full of happiness. Cubs
By his side.
No, I have to kill him.

One, two, three, go! A bullet
It hit him. So slowly, yet so quick. I
Watched as he writhed in pain, tears
Falling out of his cubs’ eyes.
Crying, twisting, withering
Humanity quite shaken
Another life taken.

1 Comment

Travelling, by Sandra James

18/2/2021

11 Comments

TRAVEL

On arrival
we accept welcome coffee
catch up on family news
discuss the weather and
recall the dreadful drivers we encountered
speeding
cutting us off
tailgating

I wonder what those
drivers
talk about
when, or if…
they arrive at their destinations

11 Comments

Topsy Turvy Trip, by Peggy Gerber

17/2/2021

8 Comments

TRAVEL

I once took a trip to Crazy Town,
where reality was transformed upside down,
where the black of night consumed my day,
and red horned demons came out to play.
I felt trapped like a caged bird inside my head,
and it took all my courage just to get out of bed.

It’s easy to get lost in Crazy Town,
where insurance determines who will be found,
where help is available to those who have money.
The state of our healthcare is anything but funny!
I fought like a lion, clawing my way back home,
and it took all my courage just to write this poem.

8 Comments

Of Bread, by Ana Marie Dollano

16/2/2021

FOOD

Banana Bread
decadent and promising
nearly amazing
sweeter than bread
not quite bread
simple, unpretentious
shapes our tastes
for sharing and
filling our mind
and body needs but
like bread
more than just bakery.

2 Comments

Dusk and Dawn (The Dinaric Alps), by Miya Yamanouchi

15/2/2021

4 Comments

TRAVEL

Dusk’s silence deafens,
like someone turned off the world with a single switch.

Black pines are endless,
dusted in December snow,
the Alps don all white.

North air, crisp and cool,
carries the scent of newness,
and time infinite.

Glass daggers stretch out from underneath awnings,
like magic wands of dream.

I awake joyful,
welcoming in
just one last pastel coloured day.

Pearl is the dawn sky.
Purples and pinks, greys and whites,
Oh, how God can paint.

4 Comments

Jelly Tots, by Kirsty A. Niven

15/2/2021

FOOD

A gift I didn't foresee –
a tradition long forgotten.
You buried its corpse
under mounds of ash and dust,
shrouded it in spider webs.

An unexpected elation –
a throwback to when I knew no better,
dragging me into the past
where sugar is enough
to convince me of your love,

Where hamster cheeks, saliva filled,
can erase yesterday's hits and words.
As temporary as dissolving stitches,
it all unravelled eventually.
You brought it back too late.

0 Comments

Stocking the Foodbank, by A C Clarke

14/2/2021

FOOD

I’m standing here in the vegetable aisle
bewildered by four types of onion, forced to decide
between baby, new and baking potatoes,
Fir Apple, Maris Piper. No perishable goods

Oranges and lemons glow through their string pouches
like Christmas baubles. Concentrated fruit juice
is in short supply. There are different best befores
on the cartons of grapes. Tinned fruit is a good choice:

avoid sugary syrups. UHT milk only
Shoals of fish jostle the freezers,
shelves and shelves of frozen ready-meals.
Smash is a useful stand-by for those

with limited storage options All these teas -
from peppermint to pomegranate
besides the Assams and Darjeelings. We have
more than enough teabags

0 Comments

Ice Patrol STANAVFORLANT, by Adrian McRobb

14/2/2021

4 Comments

TRAVEL

Frost rimed bows nudge underwater caverns of invisible glass
as our despairing breath huffs into wraithes of souls lost at sea
we lay clothed shivering in sleeping bags listening through the hull
whales sing their songs of hopeless melody warning of yet dreamt nightmares
ice fields which groan like a brittle choir in pain and quiet grave like cold
like a white linen shroud where the ghosts of Titanic lifeboats row in endless agony
Newfoundland Banks envelopes and caresses cold to the bone and eerily chilled
sailing on a steaming pond or gliding through a memory of death
no talking on the quarter deck strange hushed voices in a frozen church
this graveyard of the Atlantic with its rusting harvest of wrecks...

4 Comments

The Traveller, by Andrew Carter

14/2/2021

4 Comments

TRAVEL

He travels selling free stories
about riches – mostly within.
He paints pictures as a side hustle,
with tender loving brush strokes.

Open-minded folk love his stories;
tales too painful to comprehend.
He uses his artwork as a softening touch
to mirror unacceptable truth.

They are amazed at his art -- except for some,
who won’t understand. So, they ridicule him and
abuse him. They make him unwelcome,
wherever he goes. So, he moves.

He carries messages of wisdom and love –
as a gentle word turns away wrath.
He travels under the radar scorning death,
speaking unpalatable truth. And, he moves.

4 Comments

Mental Journeys, by Claire Casha

14/2/2021

TRAVEL

Yearning for travel, it’s on my mind
I pick up a photo scrapbook, spined
Memories of escapades from the daily grind
Country trails with foliage lined
White sand, a lounger on which I’d reclined
Time I wish I could rewind
Churches, museums - figures shrined
People, faces - moments defined
They say travel frees your mind
Michelin-starred restos where I’d wined and dined
Snaps of men for whose love I’d pined
Snaps of men whose love I’d declined
Memories of escapades from the daily grind
But there’s no escape from the prison of my mind

2 Comments

A Good Sport, by Mary Wallace

14/2/2021

11 Comments

SPORT

He sported a beard
Played cricket, tennis. squash
We watched footy together
I thought he was a good sort
He thought I was a good sport

Married
Raised children, grandchildren
Forty years on with nothing in common
Yet sometimes the spark rekindles
And we scream at the umpires on TV

11 Comments

Farmers’ Market (Palindrome poem), by Krystyna Fedosejevs

14/2/2021

5 Comments

FOOD

Loud bong. Thrilling start to market.

Rows, brimming tables. Jars of honey
sunlit canary yellow. Red shimmers in
Saskatoon berry syrup. Carrots stack along
zucchini, spuds. Popping corn crackles.

Fiddler plays country tunes. I can hardly wait!
Wait? Hardly can I. Tunes, country, plays fiddler.

Crackles corn popping. Spuds, zucchini,
along stack carrots. Syrup, berry Saskatoon,
in shimmers red. Yellow canary, sunlit
honey of jars. Tables, brimming rows.

Market to start. Thrilling bong. Loud!

5 Comments

The Vanilla in Me, by Sarah Chong

14/2/2021

FOOD

Vanilla ice cream: the sweet, plain original.
Enjoyed by most, but only chosen by some. A flavor that is shy and easily overthrown by others. A flavor many will grow out of, but will return to when they need a familiar friend or an easy smile.
Vanilla is me and I am vanilla: the friend who is not always noticed but is there to help make things better. The friend who gets along and is easy going. The friend you may not aspire to, but can always return to.
Vanilla: When you feel blue, I am there for you.

1 Comment

A Biker's Ode, by Sue Clayton

14/2/2021

7 Comments

TRAVEL

Black leather pants and a metal studded jacket
Gunning the throttle to a mighty racket

Through a slipstream of wind I set off alone
Travelling the highway feeling “Bad to the Bone”

On a worn leather seat with handlebars high
I watch country hedgerows go speeding by

My whole body pulses with the vibrating machine
Whilst I wallow in the scent of the sweet gasoline

“Born to be Wild” my badass cruises the road
Astride my Harley to which I dedicate this ode

7 Comments

Winter on Glastonbury Tor, by Guy Fletcher

13/2/2021

TRAVEL

He strolled alone on Glastonbury Tor:
the old stone tower proudly standing guard
500 feet above Somerset fields.
February snow adorned the hill top
and as thick flakes flickered softly down
he thought of those who've visited before,
ghosts peering down from Glastonbury Tor.

The sun created diamonds in the snow
yet no heat emanated from the fireball
but the view warmed his restless soul.
He imagined festival crowds below
but preferred the tranquillity here
and as the seagulls and blackbirds flew by
he was a god...under a wintry sky.

2 Comments

Egg, Self-ish, by Kerry Rawlinson

13/2/2021

FOOD

like an egg,
my shell shielded me
from sharpened worlds that
would wound, grown to protect
my dark, chicken-yellow heart.

egg—rotund, pressure-proof
ellipse: entire, set apart; resisting
contamination & fracture.

until you tiptoed in, tapped me
on your edge...
until you cracked me,
dropped me in hot butter
& scrambled my yolk.

I’m humbly grateful & devoted--
with toast.

1 Comment

Different Appetites by Ceinwen E Cariad Haydon

13/2/2021

FOOD

I like my veggie soup rich with bits in
You love your meat soup liquidised silk-smooth
I find blended textures far too oil-thin
I like my veggie soup rich with bits in
not homogenous – like pish from a tin
You like your potage glooped like baby food
I like my veggie soup rich with bits in
You love your meat soup liquidised silk-smooth

1 Comment

Sustenance, by Alex Andy Phuong

13/2/2021

FOOD

It takes strength to accept reality.
No need to eat away the pain.
Binging is not the best coping mechanism,
For painful memories can lead to
Destruction due to
Repercussions, but
We need food to live,
And sustenance
Can sustain life
For the ones willing to
Continue on the journey.

1 Comment

Food Glorious Food! by Meryl Stacey Hulber

13/2/2021

FOOD

Let’s face it there’s nothing better
Than sitting down to your favourite dinner
Whether you reside in the USA or UK
What about a good old buffet!

You may live elsewhere in the world
Warm or freezing shores like
Asia, Russia, Europe or Middle East
We all love a good old feast!

Now I’m not a top notch pastry chef
But I can sling together something tasty
And in these times of Covid-19
Lots of cooks have hit our T.V. Screen

Whether you love your barbeques
Or are a vegetarian at heart
There’s always something to bring a smile
When hunger strikes, food takes us that extra mile!

1 Comment

The Andrew Siderius Memorial Writing Contest

13/2/2021

A Nuance of Feeling, by Adrian McRobb

12/2/2021

I live from day to day
medication eases my way
now and then
I see the sun
notice the grey

Diazepam, Prozac, Librium
numbs fingertips
and the errant soul
so feeling yet, unfeeling too

Pins and needles
in inner being
where
you thought
you were safe!

Am I safe?
or
do my dreams
drag me back into myself?

Forever behind
with mental payment
do I owe these white coats
or
do they owe me?

Experimenting on each other
yet
that perfect oval
white
still beckons
maybe
I'm just an addict...

2 Comments

The Comedy of the Doors, by David Walby

12/2/2021