Balloon Boy Saga By Belinda Barchard

'Just go and hide in the attic' he said as he talked to his child on the end of the bed 'but why Daddy, do I have to hide?' his son of six questioned as he sat by his side 'Because you have to pretend that you're in my homemade balloon ... ... when it flies through the sky to your 'impending doom' 'But why do we have to pretend that it's me?' His Dad smiled 'because we'll be on TV!' so the boy went and hid, and the balloon set flight mum and dad followed frantically, faking their fright and the emergency services followed as well comforting the parents, as they went through their hell and they all looked in horror when it came to a stop there was no way a boy could survive such a drop but, when they looked, there was no boy inside 'but I was sure he was in there' his parents lied So they searched all over and everyone cheered when he was found safe and sound, and not how they'd feared But then a policeman asked 'what were you doing in there?' 'My Dad told me to hide' he said, without care 'So, this was all just a sickening joke?' 'Yes' said his mother 'It was all just a hoax' 'We just wanted to get some media attention ... ... so we made up this story about my husbands invention' 'Haven't you already been on Wife Swap you two?' 'Yes that was us, and another time too' 'Well, I'm arresting you for wasting police time ... ... you could be jailed for conspiracy, it's a serious crime' 'Oh' said the Father, looking bemused 'I guess that will mean that we'll be on the News!'

Copyright © Belinda Barchard 2009

Poetry - Hyde and Seek By Bronwyn Ellis
	By the light of the day he is merely a shadow, A dark faceless echo pursuing my steps, He stalks through the mirrors to haunt my reflection, A secretive burden too long I have kept. A phantom of sins which denied my suppression, Laid dormant for years in the wells of my brain, But curious Henry with notions and potions, Awakened the slumbering evils again.Read more...

Poetry - Post Cod War Blues Part 2 - A Mouthful of Ashes By Terry Ireland

Blood money isn't paid in silver these days, just transferred straight to your account with a sheet of computerised data to inform you their agreed amount. Now I'm standing over the fish sheds to my front are near empty docks behind, the steady running Humber, to the left the gates and locks.Read more...

Poetry Larkin 25 - Returning to Paragon, St. Stephens By Julie Corbett

The harvest of sniper seeds Loaded to crevice and gutter Lesser yellowed urban bouquets Chlorophyll stems Renewing old lines and visions Seasonal planning of the green space Many striations and stipples Read more...

Poetry - Getting to Know Each Other By Jim Higo

We sat on the sofa and she stared deep into my eyes; pleading, searching, demanding, with a probing glare that looked for answers from deep within my soul, like a rape victim meeting her attacker (I should point out that that is purely a fictitious metaphor). She said, 'Tell me what it is. Read more...

Poetry - When You Add It All Up By Jim Higo

Ernie without Eric, 10 without Bo Derek, A diocese without a cleric, Scottish football without Berwick. There's really not much point. The thoughts of Tony Blair, Arthur Scargill's hair, Two minus a pair, Read more...

Poetry - Soldier Boys By Bronwyn Ellis
	The unsung heroes nameless in war, Fighting and dying like thousands before, Forgetting their freedom to salvage our own, And the promise of honour when the troops return home, Boys trained to men in the blink of an eye, To combat and conquer or battle and die, Where all hope is lost they continue in vain, And we bury their bodies but never their name. Read more...

Poetry - The Bad And The Ugly By Mike Watts

Last night I picked up a brick And broke a window I watched the glass Smash and crash I watched it explode and splinter It was the chemist I'd done And being too pissed to run I just stood there Read more...

Poetry - Mum's The Word By Lin Whitehouse

Is it too much to ask for a moment alone, to sigh when I like, not answer the phone. To leave the dishes, not make all the beds. Eat fresh air for one day and not bang the boy's heads    Read more...

Poetry - Closing Time at The Rugby Tavern By Joe Hakim

wring my soul out like a dirty flannel and hang it on the line; sprinkle my heart with sage fry it in batter and shower it in salt Take me home past the burnt-out church and Read more...

Poetry - Repatriation By Terry Ireland

RAF Lyneham. The airplanes circles, Lands and waits. In due time the bearer party Transfer the coffin, Flag draped, At the slow march. Read more...

Poetry - Simple Words By Terry Ireland

I suppose I'm just a simple man but I can read and write. I struggle with the crossword nearly every single night. I like to write my poetry when I can make the time. I'm not very good at rhythm and don't always make the rhyme Read more...

Poetry - A Close Shave By Bronwyn Ellis
	London's soil had long since dried and cobbles lay where grass once grew, The memories of violets died as petals yearned for morning dew, The sky as bleak as life itself an echo of the days gone by, The clouds rained metaphoric tears in grief of man's desire to die. This concrete world, these concrete dreams, had built a wall around my mind, The aging grey of empty living surely soon would paint me blind, Read more...

Poetry - Unfinished (republished With audio MP3 download) By Laurenceaux

Your sickness is inside of you trapped within your head, distraught with insecurities, irrational instabilities are signs I always dread. With childish eyes - implicit faith to me you'd run in pain, Read more...

Poetry - Journeys By Jamie McGarry

If you knew how many of these were written on trains, you would laugh; that is, if there's humour in percentages. But I won't explain why - oh no, oh no. Why I write so often on the move, you can guess for yourself. It must be all that sat there, waiting, nothing to do .... Read more...

Poetry - Story By Mike Watts

Cancer had been chewing at her For a couple of years before she Finally succumbed to it She was 40 and had Two grown-up kids I received the news by text Whilst I was in bed This made sleep pretty elusive Read more...

Poetry - Simple Words By Terry Ireland

I suppose I'm just a simple man but I can read and write. I struggle with the crossword nearly every single night. I like to write my poetry when I can make the time. I'm not very good at rhythm and don't always make the rhyme Read more...

Poetry - Exes Are Exes For A Reason By Joe Hakim

And then you say: 'We can still be mates.' But it's too late for that, because now I look like the world's biggest twat. Should have never gone back, I'd got things on track but now it's all derailed - Read more...