Blog Archives

Terrible Twos, by Mary Wallace

28/8/2020

Two wrongs, two too many drinks, too fast
Two cars, two children dead, two families ruined,
Too much loss, too much pain,
TOO MUCH GUILT
Two sad eyes, too too sad
Too much disappointment,
Too little sleep
Two arms empty for too, too long
Two separate lives
Today is too hard
Tomorrow stretches too long
Tonight
Two little bottles
To oblivion.

Loneliness, by Maria Tonu

28/8/2020

Loneliness.

Loneliness hurts.

Loneliness is punishment.

Loneliness increases frustration.

Loneliness are not treated by suffering.

Better alone than being hurt by an insensitive partner.

Loneliness gives you many lessons about you and the world.

Loneliness sets the values and prescribes them right ointment for the heart.

Every day, hundreds of lonely people fall asleep and wake up embracing only their own tears.

But, nevertheless, loneliness is the only honest platform from which you can dive into an extraordinary relationship or even a new destiny.

The End of Days, by Adrian McRobb

28/8/2020

Green man sends his Summer sprite
she spells trees to release leaves
touching bark with her wand
whispering to give stem ease

She flits amongst forest oaks
"its nearly Winter time"
so they lay Autumnal dresses
on the green sward to shine

Red, Orange, all fire colours
in every dazzling hue
shaking out their folds
in an eye popping view

Summer sprite is active
as seasons slip away
telling all her Dryads
which fashion to display

In Spring she is a young girl
in Summer a hazy dream
in Autumn she is a warning
in Winter a dread Ice Queen!

Chess Pieces, by David Atkinson

28/8/2020

"Chess is life in miniature": Garry Kasparov

Spreadeagled on garish towels,
the teenage girls on the tourist beach
are solar panels in the heat.
For their passion play they flaunt their props,
paperbacks and mobile phones.
Surf skiers drift in on languid waves,
breakers from the distant reef.

On the boardwalk the chess contestants
face off in silence. Matted hair,
dishevelled beards, tatty shirts.
Faces, fascia battered by the weather.
Holidaymakers assemble as seagulls for the showdown,
coffees donated by a spectator,
crimson lipstick and assertive sarong.

The barefoot aggressor moves his bishop,
smiles: "Checkmate".
His opponent surveys the sea;
for king and pawn alike the tide has run out.

Postmodern Communication, by David Atkinson

21/8/2020

The beach café, her eyes gaze down,
hair dances a tango in the fresh sea breeze.
The tang of espresso,
the brace of salt spray.

His face turned away, concentrates;
wind strokes four day stubble.
The sound of waves crashes up from the sand,
dachshund spreadeagled beneath them.

Hushed languor? Companionable silence?
Each stares at the glare
of a mobile phone.

The Donkey and the Tiger, by Adrian McRobb

20/8/2020

A Donkey met a Tiger
on his way home from work
so to confuse the issue
he suddenly started to twerk
the Tiger had never seen
a Donkey twerk before
completely forgetting to release
his might stripey roar
the Donkey twerked along the lane
hoping for a muse of escape
the Tiger followed close behind
his toothsome jaws agape
if against a Tiger
you'd like to stand a chance
it wouldn't be a bad idea
to break into a dance!

Now She's Gone, by Guy Fletcher

20/8/2020

Now she's gone he comes to view
her grave, carrying tulips,
speaking to her in tender tones
with eyes moist as morning dew.
This sickening newly found infatuation
a far cry from when she breathed
when he assaulted her with scornful words,
there was none of this adoration.

But she never existed at all,
the invention of a guilty mind
as he kisses her framed photograph
hanging as if gallows on the wall.
He pictures a modern Helen of Troy
yet this is an easy, maudlin love
and now she's gone he's convinced
the clear sorrow in her eyes...was joy.

Kilowatt Throne, by Adrian McRobb

14/8/2020

Chair sits
patience strong
wooden seat
electric song
lever pulled
volts arc
burning out
vital spark
20 amp
breaker bar
lights flicker
assigned hour
boiled brain
burnt skin
power drain
cured sin...

Luminescence, by Ana Marie Dollano

14/8/2020

The sun rays forth a glorious light
and filters through the trees.
It brings much joy and happiness
to the birds and the bees.

The light that burns forth from a candle
is enough to banish all doubt,
the flickering flame illuminates
even my darkest hour.

and shadows fail where there is light
that brightens up the gloom,
she clears the path of obscurity
and keeps me company.

Dame Edna's Tea Towels, by Adrian McRobb

7/8/2020

Tea towels dance a merry tune
wind whipped upon the line
all in different colours
keeping their separate time

some are multi coloured
some are souvenirs
some others are a bit holy
some are lauded by their peers

gingham ones are waltzing
souvenirs are pas-de-deux
holy ones are just worn out
reeling those from Edinburgh

whipping wet at cold faces
you pass and take a chance
they just take no notice
to absorbed in their dance

when westerlies are blowing
we hang our washing out
but beware the tea towels
as they gaily flap about!

A Young Man's Tears, by Guy Fletcher

7/8/2020

“If I could only but once, press her to my heart.” (Goethe)

Oh, young men and their misery,
the horror of unrequited love.
It’s been the same through the ages
illuminated by Goethe’s pages
where Werther’s heart is broken
by Charlotte who could save his soul,
over this obsession he has no control.

The Sorrows of Young Werther
lies by his torturing bed
as he transforms an ordinary girl
into Cleopatra or Helen of Troy.
But as you wither and locks turn grey
this painful infatuation fades
so this girl who caused a young man’s tears
I have not thought of…for many years.

Instep, by Elizabeth Parmeter

6/8/2020

Window down chair back,
Resting feet on the dashboard
Body stretched in restful sleep.
In long straightaways
Stolen glances
At her sleeping form.

A windowed reflection
Of curled toes,
Dancers feet
Superimposed on the road ahead.

With a smile, even in dreams
She dances.
Feet arch
Point
Curl
Turn. Highlighted in shifting shadows
Between glowing red taillights.

The Voice You Hear, by Gary Mark Belenke

6/8/2020

I cradled you in my arms

Your first vision

You kiss me goodbye

My last

After leaving this world

I will still be at your side.

I am the wind in your hair

when you feel a breeze,

I will protect you

when thunder rumbles and lightning flashes

I am the space between the notes and words

when you hear music or stories that touch your soul,

I fly at your side

as your heart soars,

I make you whole

when your heart breaks,

When the still small voice within you speaks

listen, I am the whisper

Poetry

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