Hey!! What's the story?

Today is World #Poetry Day
So here are some of mine from over the last 20 years …enjoy

Christmas at Christchurch
    I feel translucent
    a man of marble skin
    as if dreaming my motions
    every step a tread in water
    each reach of my hand
    a ghost grip touches
    but nothing holds and yet
    I clutch these stones and
    iron spear barricades
    as a sea-snail would the bedrock
    for this is my folly
    to hug close the masonry of charity

    I feel nothing
    no remorse runs down my arms
    to my useless wrists
    no rage
    twists my mouth into rabid snarl
    no pleasure lifts my face
    from the footfalls
    of those celestial beings
    bustling above

    not even a soaked black wall
    on which I am a shadow
    penetrates my deadened hide

    I feel grotesque
    I am a gargoyle of flesh and bone
    sown into the fabric of these
    towers with closed doorways
    that form broken arch homes
    for broken things

    no longer am I broken
    I have embraced
    the cold and hunger
    of my mouth and my soul
    I am free of this place


    here I am still
    here for you to see
    if you can stomach
    to see me

Strangely Yours

I bare my throat to your fangs
my vixen or vampire
or just one of those lover’s things

Don’t know – Don’t care

If it poisons or cures
you’re crazily mine
and I am strangely yours

You bare your skin to my mirrored eyes
am I wolf or Wicca
or a boy whose hands lust ties

Don’t know – Don’t care

If angel or devil to satin sheets lures
you to be longingly mine
and I strangely yours

We bare souls to emotion
are we deity or demon
or whispers drowning in sexual ocean

Do we know – do we really care

If storm or tide washes us to new shores
despite a world insanity you’re mine
and I – strange maybe – but yours


Just Say It

    Just say it
        if you have something to say

    She masks the meaning of her machinations
    mixing her metaphors
    intertwining innuendo
    like lovers locked in lip-service
    serving only the cerebral cyber cyphers
    that are incomprehensible
    to the incompetent voyeur
    with his lack of vampiric virtues
    and his virtually vacuous knowledge
    of the gloomy gothic arts
    grotesque yet gregarious
    simultaneously strange and familiar
    forming as they should part of his own
    foundation in fictional formation

    Just say it
        if you have something to say

    Her words are weighty
    well-chosen sounds to surround
    the sinner with psychedelic scenes
    in super cinescope
    the graveyard
    the gravestone
    the graven-faced lady
    a grave mistake indeed these
    grave analogies  
    over anxious and under analysed  
    what is the message
    what is the motif in your motive
    where is the fire that once fanned
    the fighting spirit to be spirited away
    in spite of beauty
    substance has been substituted for semblance

    Just say it
        if you have something to say
    instead of images behind tired illusions
    and incessant alliterations
    ironic as they are here
    Just say it
        If you have something to say


Lost on the Brentford Dock Trail

The white marble column is tantalisingly close
with mighty Caesar aloft
no doubt some Victorian folly to amuse
the barge captains on the lazy Thames

but walls and warning signs
have misdirected me here
a simple wooden bench by Brentford Dock

where I suppose many a
defeated tourist has slumped
beaten by mighty Caesar
and private properties alike


Writing Under Water

Waiting for that sweet moment
when I break the surface and gasp
a lungful of clean air
when words mean what I want them to mean
when they say what’s in my eyes
and not the lies on my face
    the public face worn as a thin skin veneer
exploiting those last moments before
sinking down again
back into heaviness
    down to another blank page
    washed clean
struggling and writing under water

*   *   *

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Discussion Forum

World Poetry Day

Started by Steve Downes Mar 21, 2015. 0 Replies

Today is World #Poetry Day So here are some of mine from over the last 20 years …enjoy Christmas at Christchurch         I feel translucent     a man of marble skin     as if dreaming my motions   …Continue

Tags: poetry

Wrote a poem, felt like sharing.

Started by Misinformed Poet Aug 13, 2014. 0 Replies

Your ColoursHow vividly I see your anger cut a scarlet stripeYour tongue it flashes words in vicious blueAnd after, glow in tender rose remorseYet Amber bubbles warning deep belowYou keep your…Continue

Tags: colors, colour, Poet, Poetry, Poem

The Ghost of Saint Anthony (poem)

Started by Steve Downes Jun 20, 2014. 0 Replies

The Ghost of Saint Anthony Once I was a man like youstrong in the heart and mindNow my spectre drifts the sands of Egypt these sixteencenturiesacross the tombs of Pharaohsfrom Alexandria and the sea…Continue

Tags: book, free, poets, poetry, poems

Dame Street Messiah (poem)

Started by Steve Downes. Last reply by Steve Downes Dec 23, 2013. 2 Replies

Dame Street MessiahWeighty words wasted on the east wind blowing down Dame Street they don’t heed or even hear them the footsore army of suits and students the new Abraham or Jesus or Muhammad…Continue

Tags: book, free, poets, poetry, poems

Blog Posts

Title Advice?

Posted by Daniel Hale on December 14, 2015 at 18:29 0 Comments

I just completed, as near as I can tell, my first book: a collection stories disguised as a novel. I do currently have a working title that I was initially happy with, BUT it may now be too obscure or inapplicable.

The title as it is now is "The Psalterdemalion." This is a combination of two of my favorite words: Psalter, which is a small book of psalms, and Tatterdemalion, which is a man dressed in multicolored rags and tatters. My thinking was that the man character, a story thief,…


A Memory Resides In Soho

Posted by Ronnie Capaldi on November 24, 2015 at 21:06 0 Comments

A Memory Resides In Soho

On the 1st August 2015 a special night had arrived for seventy-five year old Robert Harris and his seventy-two year old wife Barbara.  Robert was nattily dressed in a blue suit and Barbara looked elegant in a long flowing red and black flowery dress. They were in the heart of the…


Final Stretch for my First Project

Posted by Daniel Hale on November 16, 2015 at 2:41 0 Comments

So I've got my stories together for my first collection, and am currently working on the connecting narrative. I haven't even thought yet how I'm gonna get this published. Gotta start thinking what I need to do. 


Posted by Ronnie Capaldi on November 12, 2015 at 17:40 0 Comments


Mark stood on a sea cliff top. A wave below roared in and sprayed out a ferocious impact. Its retreat left a glistening carpet of foamy shale. To his left, a slender figured girl appeared, dressed only in a skimpy black nightie. Her blonde hair fell over her face. Scarlet lips whispered to him,…


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