Category Archives: New Poetry

Counting Magpies – Martin Choules

One for nada,
Two for nowt,
Three for a shrug,
And four for a doubt,
Five for zero,
Six for oh,
Seven for knowing there’s nothing to know.

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Spring List – Nick Barth

Cherry blossom, check.
Book of verse, jug of wine, check.
Loaf of bread, thou, check.

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The Exhausted Poet – William Morton

The exhausted poet went to bed
and there she laid her sleepy head.
Rhyming tried she in repose
but none there came – just boring prose!
Half wakened by her snoring nose,
a rhyming couplet I suppose,
had tangled uvula and airway,
but to Parnassus came no stairway!


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Time, Ladies & Gents – Pat Francis

It’s Christmas time at Questors,
let’s have a glass of wine;
it can’t be eight already –
the readings will be fine.

It’s party time at Questors,
you’ll find us in the bar;
my sonnet’s nearly ready;
let’s have another jar.

It’s Christmas time at Questors,
let’s dive into the fray;
I forgot to bring my glasses;
let’s read another day.

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The Old Men – Alan Chambers

With red rimmed sunken eyes that leer
the old men sat and blew upon their wrinkled claws
like cold toads waiting under stones for summer.

A pretty miss
with heels a clack a click
and well upholstered grapefruit breasts,
caused those bleary eyes to flicker.

A wan regret, a thought of racier days,
a coarse remark and then a shiver.
The old men spat and turned for solace to the pub.

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Caution: Poet on Song – Pat Francis

You don’t care if you’re right you don’t care if you’re wrong,
you forget to be cool when you’re spinning along
swinging on words like a hammock.

You thunder and cry, you plunder and lie,
you bluster and roar an’ lose all decorum
your politics distasteful, your grammar disgraceful.

You don’t know what is real, you don’t know what is true,
you don’t know who is who, you don’t care how they feel,
you just kick up your heels and go

swinging, swinging,
swinging, swinging,
swinging on words like a hammock.

N.B. If we weren’t carefree poets we might say ‘swinging on words as if they were a hammock’ but who wants to say that?

 

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Advice for Lovers in an Age of Screens – Nick Barth

When in doubt of love in some long black night,
when her voice cracks, threatening to distort,
her expression obscured by lens flare light,
the subwoofer’s thunderous retort
signals your pleasure dome’s demise;
when the sparkling dialogue becomes lacklustre,
a weak romcom plays out before your eyes
where once there was high action blockbuster;
when you’re this close to storming off the set, stop.
Lay down those phones, turn off your screens.
There’s no way your epic tale should be a flop;
a little empathy will fix this sorry scene,
to put you back up there as idols without equal
with love like this you’re sure to get a sequel.

©Nick Barth 2018

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