A country child of sanguine complexion and flame red hair dances through life with cheerful expression. This sassy personality seeks mischief to share where the beauty of nature belies the awfulness of city life. City kid, sallow skin, tired and bored Wearily rushing through life catching smells and toxic fumes Of rumbling traffic, suffers and…
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Reality: A Picture from Hubble, by Jayne Marshall
See The Horse Head nebula With ears pricked and eyes Stolen from bright stars. He was born with gasses coloured by the universe unseen by childlike eye reality that is mystery. Who rode this beast? Did it pull Helios’ chariot? Will it continue through life’s spiral dragging forever behind it a hearse draped in the…
Be Yourself – Everyone Else is Taken, by Jayne Marshall
One life, live it. But which life? Which road? Which fork? Which path? Who guides? Who directs? It’s my life, let me go. Let me breathe. You wish to be like who? But that’s not you. You wish you were like him? Did you know his eyes are dim, His heart is weak, Is that…
What is Thinking? by Mike McBride
Sagacious, rash, impetuous, Unforgiving or kind, Be we passionate, hot-tempered, Or glacially inclined, Our brains fill up with crap That we struggle to unwind. Our thoughts become a trellis With our actions intertwined. Reaction and response begin to map The geography of our inner world. By arranging and ordering The wig becomes uncurled. The kingdom…
Toughness (1-5), by Mike McBride
TOUGHNESS 1 Being tough is easy (It’s being a poet that’s hard) Just say goodbye to friendship Put on your emotional armour Keep your feelings frozen Pretend you’re ambitious It’s a perfect deception You’ll be a hero But you’ll be stuck Yes, you’ll be admired Worshiped for your prowess You may even feel like a…
Toughness, by Roger Read
Its tough being a poet. As if we didn’t know it. A poet needs to be ambitious. Not easy on a Live Mic Night. Being in the blinding spotlight. The deception of appearing calmer. Than one really is. So may need a skin like armour. In case of the odd boo or hiss ! Not…
Tyrannosaurus Wrecks, by Chris Goode
Contrary to report, I’m quite a sensitive guy, And yet I terrify folks without having to try – It drives away all future gladness And along with itching drives me into madness: Killing savagely isn’t my real vocation But Jurassic times lack proper medication – It’s a bum rap living before diazepam And the soporific…
Incorrigible, by Mike McBride
She was incorrigible, beyond all redemption The worst nightmare of a student flat-share Always missing her turn to cook or clear the table Never offering to clean-up or make tea when she was able Too quick to take offence to pertinent advice well meant Always complaining that life was boring Her never-ending, tedious lament Not…
Flowers of the Forest, by Mike McBride
A lament Off to Scotland again, for the hills And the weather; leaving Edinburgh To its festival, escaping the arms of Glasgow: with its cultural cargo: The bird that never flew: I flew, but left A large piece of my heart there, for ever! We’re headed northeast, avoiding Glencoe. We want to let go, have…
After Midnight, by Mike McBride
A song CHORUS After midnight, The stars seem much brighter The streets are all quiet, There are no more queues After midnight, My Helga holds me tighter My big buxom baby, My beautiful muse There’s a song by Abba In the light of the moon Not ‘Abracadabra’ I remember the tune Gi’me, Gi’me, Gi’me A…
After Midnight, by Jayne Marshall
After midnight diamonds dance upon the sea Moonbeams show traces of humanity’s Thoughtless ways with detritus left to rot Under the stars a solitary fox can be heard And from the street the odd swearword. And creeping slowly an eerie silence descends The darkness seems threatening – to the unwary, beckoning towards an unlit path…
Rainy School Day – A sonnet, by Mike McBride
Teacher-sized umbrella-beetles watched us Scurry up the neat path, their monstrous Fact-boulders of tomb-stone rain: howling, Thundering, giving us their pain; scowling, Tortured souls, forced to dance like Saint Vitus’; Leaving us to wade through their detritus. The incessant tolling of the bell, The rank, farmyard smell of steaming wool Of cow and bull, soggy…
The Problem with Elegance, by Mike McBride
THE JUDGMENT OF PARIS As ordered by Zeus, in the ancient myth He was courted by three Greek goddesses For his adoration, each competing. Hera, the most powerful, offered To make him ruler of Europe and Asia. Athena was by far the cleverest Offering wisdom, and skill in battle. Aphrodite, goddess of love, offered Helen,…
You’re the Elegance, by Chris Goode
There may be herds of elephants, And exposure to the elements, But you’re always the elegance In my room; We may be fat or scrawny, Irascible or horny, But you’re always the elegance In my room; When politicos are prating, And their utterances are grating, You’re ever the elegance In my room; Life may be…
Gulls just wanna have fun, by Chris Goode
Flying ants are swarming As the weather starts warming And seagulls are manoeuvring Swooping and hoovering Them up one by one – They’re having a lot of fun: But ants’ formic acid Makes seagulls less placid Acting, it’s plain to see, A bit like LSD: On an antsy high They forget how to fly; Seeing…