Cherrypicked stories
For My Villaintine
Every 14th of February, whether or not I myself must plough through drifts of scented envelopes I like to recline, with some fortified wine, and spare a rare thought, unbidden, unsought for the legions of scowl-ridden, lovelorn misanthropes.
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- 858 reads
Anywhere But Here
"Find us a place where people don't ask fool questions¦where the morning air comes through an open window¦tangled in bird song¦where we can feel alive again, Jake. Like I said before anywhere but here.
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- 849 reads
Marks in the morning
The ceiling holds me in a dry awake. I love theologising sleep, the blue tack mark non interuption where no phone rings and no one speaks. Snug in my mountain sleeping bag I hold the torch up,
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- 2370 reads
Plot
The boy next door is plotting to take over the street, he holds his mug like a mother and chats to me about ousting Blair computer screen savers and charity clothing appeals. He lays down a line of credit cards,
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- 1327 reads
The Acrobat
Falling out of love She does well
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- 1149 reads
Shepherd
Poem has been temporarily removed and will be re-posted in October 06
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- 1899 reads
The Natural Consequence
Concrete poetry is never a particularly pleasant thing to find in front of you, and when it's being written by a young man who is clearly convinced that he has discovered the meaning of life and/or love, it's doubly bad...
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- 583 reads
Drink Me
She loves men who make her feel tiny
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- 1192 reads
The Hot Water Ran Out When We Were Having A Sexy Shower
2/5/06
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- 2063 reads
The Battle Of The Sexes Beggars Belief.
The English language is exceptionally rich, allowing both precision and ambiguity. The sexes use language differently. Women can be very hard for men to understand. This poem explores the linguistic battle of the sexes.
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- 950 reads
Killing in the Name of?
And all that crap about turbulent times, Christians massacred by crazy Muslims, egyptians bombing local markets, foreigners advised to enter with upmost caution, they can't help it, their religion tells them to kill people, what the fuck is going on?
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- 921 reads
Bathtime
Swirling spiral drain, spun round, held by porcelain boulders. Dammed by barriers, of shining glass. Waterfall fabrics shading darkened rooms of singing and cleaning, to old towels soaking the flood water below.
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- 1868 reads
Nanny
My uncle ate my gran last night by the light of the silvery moon.
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- 965 reads
What a load of old rubbish!
Day beds and sleigh beds and forks fit for toasing, pans so your chestnuts could get a good roasting......"
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- 1762 reads
Absinthe Minded
Drinking absinthe...
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- 939 reads
an Esarn moon
a beguiling sunset in repose
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- 964 reads
How to be good
Clean with vinegar listen to Sigor Ros naked, look up on the street rock climb for charity and at the top understand why the villain likes the fall
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- 1382 reads