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Month: July 2018

You, At The Front Door

Posted on 30/07/2018 by john keast

Now that I am outside the house, I can hear the glass beads on the jug. I see you, bent, at the radiogram, a record, Sailor, close to your glasses. I can hear the click, too, of the arm, then Pet Clark – Sailor, stop your roaming – and your light feet on the floral…

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breathing

Posted on 27/07/2018 by peterlebaige

breathing the sea like this ‘full tide’ it’s said breathing in more than your chest can hold can only let go the sterns swinging out and round in the pull downstream shell lifted in line in bending of the water dumped forward slumped back ‘waves’ it’s said the pohutukawa in rain edged under with murk…

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nightly

Posted on 26/07/2018 by Mark Prisco

When the day’s laid low, rolled by the new moon’s blade & the dark vines bend to the wind;   when the flax is wild, risen from the flood, dance as the flame does delight, to purify old bones.   Praise the lord.

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what am I without you

Posted on 22/07/201822/07/2018 by Dean English

4 [an excerpt] what am I without you telling me? to look upon us, two of us in darkness, with barely enough skin lit to establish our age, the gender or the race unharnessed from your own density, even that against the odds beyond our reach, a some‘thing’ always is and doesn’t offer proof of…

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river bridge

Posted on 13/07/2018 by peterlebaige

river bridge to Rosemary Menzies in memoriam on reading her ‘The old Bridge (Mostar)’; her poem is posted online at: http://www.most.ba/ob/menzies.aspx The original ‘Old Bridge’ was destroyed in the war in former Yugoslavia in shelling by the Croatian army and rebuilt in the style and using much of the technology of the original. Rosemary so…

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The Man Who Lost It All

Posted on 13/07/201815/07/2018 by john keast

Some days in the winter, all he could do was sit in the cold dark kitchen. The light – his wife – had gone. They knew that was coming. It was in the creaks, the pain. Then she was gone and the sadness covered him. It sat on his nights and his days. When he…

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tension

Posted on 12/07/2018 by Mark Prisco

Tantalus had it hard, the prize so near yet.   the Crow also – his Cup, next door, like you   I do                              not. consider it.

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Ghosts

Posted on 11/07/2018 by Notworthknowing

I’ve seen them with my own two eyes a sight I wish I hadn’t. To bare witness to these spectres is a sight I wish to never repeat, On a realm unlike our own these ghosts doomed to roam with company the likes of  pain hurt and deceit, These beings were just like we,  They…

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A friends eye is a good mirror

Posted on 09/07/2018 by Editor

Lonely a road cold Leave the critics to their retorts This is no scripture No ancient Latin definition It’s a story of how they met For the rest of you this is where it begins She sits with an apple Entices the serpent The boy will follow Biting into her neck She eats the freshly…

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Flotation Devices #1

Posted on 08/07/201823/10/2019 by Dean English

There’s a poem in this, I’m certain, the memory came while reading the curtains parted into the hearts of other poets: a summer evening sea swim alone below the flower tree of antipodean Christmas’. I’d kicked it . all . drugs and mothers, but the sugar; I’d quit my full-time work making either bread or…

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a fight i should have won

Posted on 07/07/2018 by Mark Prisco

Is nothing I said as he plucked the blade from my skull & stemmed the blood with his pants.   I do not…  here &, how I’m holed up now, fucked with too much, I can’t say.   But I feel, I think, somewhat emotional. Like I want to cry because I’m helpless, & there’s…

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glass

Posted on 07/07/2018 by peterlebaige

glass the estuary this morning was melting out of glass into blues of sky all along it the trees the houses on the shore and further up stood as shadows between sun last night’s breath still on the air bridge st, panmure june 2018  

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