Pestilence
Turn to the left and turn to the right There is nothing left here other than eternal blight What’s the point in hoping and pursuing your dreams
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- 401 reads
Understanding
the poem should be one sleeve of 12 lines. formatting screwed up.
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- 17 comments
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- 4834 reads
A racially-motivated sonnet to the working class
Cor blimey Charlie, how’s yer father’s? And yer mam? Bit of ox tongue, brisket, to go with them eels? Take a butcher’s at this lamb. Looking’s for free son. In yer dreams.
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- 915 reads
To His Bold Mistress
Come into my room and let us fuck like lizards, let us fuck like they did before the world was made; inventing and reinventing our bodies, redrawing the blueprints in bed sheets and candle wax,
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- 665 reads
again
the painter's wild brush strokes endure the tireless ages and coax my mind to complete the image with textures of my own for a moment i am trapped...
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- 2524 reads
LeggingsRoyalescam2000@60+com
Mystical Encounter with a Magician.
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- 562 reads
The reason why I rhyme
Gentlemen of the jury. Please, listen to my petition. There is no cause for such fury against this happy repetition. To rhyme is not a crime. Some rhymes can be sublime; poetry in its prime
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- 2455 reads
Leave me alone
The day after they split up I decided to sell my memory at a sidewalk sale. A man ran a hand over my skull ‘Why do you want to get rid of it?’
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- 1388 reads
12 November 2012 - Dear Dairy #12
Well, that's Guido Fawkes and The Glorious Dead done. Christmas trees next.
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- 4 comments
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- 1724 reads
AUTUMN ROSE
My final tilt at the Poetry Pentathlon. A poem for my Mum.
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- 7699 reads