Poetry in Commotion

The scribblings of a man sitting on a train or under a tree with a mind full of nothing except whatever it is he’s scribbling about … and the train or the tree.

Cherry

A Hot Afternoon in Malki Chiflik

Nothing moves. There is no breeze. No birds fly by in the cloudless sky. No creature has the will to disturb the cruel tranquillity. Not even bees...
1 likes

Crucial Moves of Fantasy

Sit back and watch the sea above Where images of waves and whales and fish and ships Collide and slide and get mixed up Until it is a sea no more But...
1 likes
Cherry

Betty Lewis Eyes

A teapot on a tray she brings. Digestive in each saucer. Horrific tales of war to tell But only if she’s forced to. She’s angelic, prim and ninety...
Cherry

Mother Bulgaria

As Lenin looks down from his sombre pedestal Concrete erupts from a bleak landscape like The broken teeth of windswept peasants Drinking homemade...
Cherry

The Condemnation of Darkness

Hello darkness my old friend You're here to drive me round the bend As sultry summers meet their end You pounce upon my fear and send Me screaming...
1 likes
Cherry

We Are Seacroft!

With my folks, I lived on top Of the North East Gas Board showrooms shop In a row of flats called Parkway Mews From which we had outstanding views Of...
2 likes
Cherry

The Liberation of Stefan and Penka

We met in black and white. Four eyes peircing dirt and spiders‘ webs To escape their world behind the wood pile In the darkest corner of an ancient...
1 likes
Cherry

Baby Love

Two new eyes Startled; staring out at An old world. Not knowing it's old. Two new lungs Taking their first gasps of air Breathed a million times...
1 likes
Cherry

When It Gets Late Earlier

As my hemisphere gets darker The men who wind up the world Decide to make it darker still Just days before my birthday When I always wish for more...
1 likes

Take It or Leave It

I love to see the sun come up through early morning mist. I quite enjoy a pint or two without ever getting pissed. I like to walk around the town, my...
1 likes
Cherry

The Friday Pazar in Gorna Oryahovitsa

Coffee imbibed, strong and black. Old men sit and talk and cough and hack Beneath a fig tree even older. Tobacco smoked, even stronger To blunt the...
1 likes
Gold cherry
Poem of the week

Copse and Robbers

No Bulgar children, women or men Can recall the day exactly when They first strode into forested lands With an axe on a shoulder or a saw in a hand...
2 likes
Cherry

Take It or Leave It (with music video)

I first posted this poem on the ABCTales website in November, during the week when our Inspiration Point was ambivalence. Please forgive me if you...
1 likes

Hotel Mediterraneo

Sultry and still the sweet night air. Latin music. Crickets chirping. Like a favela in Rio or anywhere But for the sound of Geordies burping. For el...
2 likes
Cherry

It Being December

Dulled A mind follows a rainbow Seven shades of jet In hope to find A faerie shoemaker In wee black jacket and cap Tap-tapping at the soles Of...
Cherry

Fantasies of Enya (with music video)

I'd like to be the owner of a butcher's shop in Newry. I'd like to shake my hips about and sing like Billy Fury. I'd like to be a cosmonaut like...
1 likes

Christmas With Monsieur Bublé

A portfolio of lively tunes A carousel and gay balloons To start, the handsome Gaul festoons Season’s greetings most profound To all of those who’ve...
3 likes
Cherry

They Think I’ve Gone Berserk (with music video)

This is a poem I wrote about forty years ago. I was working as a waiter in a cocktail bar at the time. My dear friend Anthony Healey found the faded...
Cherry

The Chips at Twerton Park

When Raleigh’s ship came into port the gentry gathered round To see the cargo in its hold of veggies small and brown. But little did the people know...
1 likes

Before The Year Is Gone

Around New Year and before Lent, the Kukeri walk and dance through villages to scare away evil spirits with their elaborate costumes and the sound of multiple large bells attached to their belts. They are also believed to provide a good harvest, health, and happiness to the village during the year. The Kukeri tradition has been practiced since Thracian times, predominantly in Bulgaria but also in other Balkan countries.
2 likes
Cherry

Priyatelka, Turlough and the House of Cats

She was sleeping in a gas station, south from here on route E85. I asked the pump attendant, ‘You think that little feline’s still alive?’ He said ‘...
3 likes
Cherry

For Yer Women, the Women

All the year they scrub the homes From Skibbereen to Portglenone. They work their fingers to the bone, Afraid to pause to moan or groan. They milk...
1 likes

Poking James MacGuigan’s Pig

There have been many doors in my life, some real and some metaphorical, but on a quiet little farm in one of Ireland's beautiful Glens of Antrim, one in particular stood out and the memory of it will stay with me forever.
Gold cherry
Poem of the week

Lady Danube

A photograph of a green wooden hut beside a river. But the river is none other than the River Danube (known locally as the Dunav / Дунав) taken on my phone a few days ago from near the town of Svishtov in Bulgaria, approximately 80 kms from where I live. I love watching rivers flow by but the might of the Danube (the second longest in Europe, after the Don) is extraordinary. Its beauty and the folklore and mythology that accompany it compelled me to write this poem.
1 likes
Cherry

Her Troubles

Her Troubles Tuesday’s fish supper grease still lingers On grubby stubby stiff little fingers Cracked by cold and each one bleeds From overuse of...
2 likes
Cherry

502 Kilometres

502 Kilometres Just up the road from my wife and me A fire’s burning constantly Folks just like us are in the street No food to eat Nowhere to sleep...
1 likes
Cherry

When One Is One

When One Is One As our wee woman reaches one I wonder where the time has gone Those first twelve months so quickly passed As a list of skills you...
3 likes
Cherry

Black Grape Cat Disorder

Osem our cat is black and white He’ll eat whatever comes in sight He eats all day and he eats all night No bounds exist to his appetite He eats...
Cherry

The Vigorous Fig

But how did you get there? That’s got me perplexed. Oh the wonders of nature, and whatever next?
1 likes
Gold cherry

Song to My Siren

I loved the way we shared that laughter. No other made me laugh like you.
2 likes
Cherry

Trip of a Lifetime

A poem inspired by a terrible incident my partner and I witnessed on the four kilometre journey into our local town this morning.
Cherry

Poking James MacGuigan’s Cow

This is an old bit of writing from the days when I was still nervous about farm animals. I’ve done a bit of the digital remastering because I was never really happy with it and I thought that while I was fiddling about I would change the subject from a pig to a cow, thus meeting the dictates of this week’s Inspiration Point. So you’d better read it because if you don’t I’ll set James MacGuigan on you.
2 likes
Cherry

Hot Cross Bun Blues

If only they had a branch of Sainsbury’s in the Mississippi Delta.
2 likes
Gold cherry
Poem of the week
Pick of the Month

You Never Said

For someone I loved a long time ago, you know.
Cherry

Beneath Cnoc Daod

It would be hard to find a place more beautiful, peaceful and welcoming than the Beara Peninsula in West Cork.
2 likes
Cherry

Me and My Muezzin

When I was a lad I worked on big ships. Here I describe the Suez Canal stretch of a sea passage from Quebec City in Canada to Colombo in Sri Lanka round about 1977. Our ship was loaded with a bulk cargo of poverty relief grain financed by the United Nations Fund for Population Activities (UNFPA). Some of my writing is an embellishment of the truth and a little bit of it is the result of pure imagination, but this poem is as near to the truth as I could get whilst attempting to remain poetic.
Cherry

Three O’Clock Sheep Club

A crowded but lonely place.
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Yantra Mantra

Oh Yantra, river of my dreams...
4 likes
Cherry

My Verbal Diary Here

I couldn’t match the style of Jenny Skinner’s diary entries but I hope this helps to cheer her up a bit while she’s feeling under the weather.
2 likes
Cherry

The Treadmills of My Mind

It’s that ole devil called insomnia again, where I’m entertained by the dark columns of the world’s problem page.
3 likes
Gold cherry

Reasons to Be Bulgarian… Naz-dra-vee!

Bulgaria… a paradise that’s maybe a bit rough round the edges. This beautiful country may not be perfect but it’s the perfect home for me and Priyatelkata. We could never live anywhere else. I took my inspiration from Hristo Botev, my lovely neighbours and Ian Dury.
1 likes
Gold cherry
Poem of the week

Piblokto

Piblokto: a culture-specific syndrome occurring among traditional Inuit people, particularly women, characterized by an outburst of cries or screams, the removal of clothing, and seeming possession by a bird or animal spirit. Scientists believe that the causes include extreme cold and a lack of sunlight.
2 likes
Cherry

Goody Two Shoes

It’s hard to find something to give up if you’re doing nothing bad in the first place.
3 likes