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Poetry - Handing Down By Trevor Matthews
She was sitting at my kitchen table
looking at her hands.
These, she said, are my mother's hands.
She had big hands like these.
Every time I look at them now I see her,
and she held them up in front of me.
Bright sun pierced the thinning flesh.
Inside I saw the shadows of her bones
Poetry - Harrogate Bedrock, 1899 By Sarah Hymas
What I love about you
I have yet to quarry.
Your worn granite face
holds the promise of mica
and buttoned sandstone,
a cladding for our home.
As limestone is local diamond,
Poetry - Don't Know How To Put It In Words By Dayne Coyne
Don't know how to put it in words
But I'm wanting to thank you
For being so honest with me
And though it might sound absurd:
But, apart from myself,
It is you who most helps me to be
So excuse me if I seem pedantic
Poetry - I Don't Know What To Do By Zachary Brannon
I don't know what to say, what to do;
all I can ever think about is you!
Not sure what you think about me never have been;
But in the end it's your heart
I hope to win! I
Will always be around, always here;
My heart, I'm sure, even skips a beat
Whenever you come near.
Poetry - This Is Not A Love Poem By Mike Watts
A hole through
My breast bone
My still beating heart
And then volley it
Out of sight
Poetry - Since You Came By Bronwyn Ellis
Is it a chore?
And nothing more
A phase you killed off years before?
A painful bore?
An anger cure?
An 'I can't be bothered anymore?'
We're both so young
Love should be fun
As good as when we'd first begunRead more...
Poetry - Acres Wide By Terry Ireland
Come sleep with me she said
Bring some warmth to my bed
That seems to spread acres wide
Now that it's empty on his side
Just for a while hold me tight
Shorten just one endless night
So full of hours that I have wept
Until exhausted and finally slept
Poetry - Larkin 25 - It's Good Innit? By Catherine Scott
This is Hull - wot we got?
Unemployment, no motivation
Teenage mums, no inspiration
It's good innit?
This is Hull - wot we got?
Beggars on street
Coppers on beat
Poetry - The Last Great Adventure? By Laurenceaux.
An 'end-game' of addiction, the despair of a life only going one-way: some people are pre-disposed to drug abuse, as they are to alcohol abuse, quite possibly because they are 'bored', but more probably because they have lost essential feelings of self-worth or have become detached from mainstream society, a society with ever increasing demands for total conformity.
Poetry - I Lost a Girl and a Car By John Dervishian
You shit on my car
because I was
but that's alright
I was days shy
of getting that
anyway Read more...
Poetry - Another Night Out By John Dervishian
She pours my drink
As often as
And she pours
A Jack on the rocks Read more...
Poetry - The Nearly Men By Terry Ireland
I am one of the nearly men
Never quite the best
Not really of the crowd
Not quite one of the rest.
You see us in every photograph
When the prizes are handed out
Making up the numbers yet Read more...
Poetry - Persecution Express By Mark Walmsley
A full head of steam, to fulfil one mans dream,
The train leaves the station, with recognisation
Bellowing black smoke, as the cargo does choke
The heave and strain, of the departing train
Carriages all broken, blindness no token,
The screams and the wails, at the stories and tales
Across field and valley, does not dilly-dally,
Poetry - An Old Vets Christmas By David Delaney
He shuffles down a quiet darkened street,
alone, he always dreads this time of year,
cause locals, he just does not wish to meet.
He eats collected scraps and drinks warm beer.
Now as the rain begins to softly fall
he crawls beneath a long deserted shop,
and hears the singing from the nearby hall
Poetry - Dreams By Dino
These are the things
I'd like to call dreams
These are the things
That are just dreams
Big glass heads
With eyes of despair
Poetry - Easy By Jessica Meador
It's so much easier
When I can't stand
Living in this
When I can't stand
Poetry - Gone Forever By Katelyn Langston
As I looked across the glimmering lake all I could do was sigh,
for I could never forget my husband, for he watches me way up high.
I can hear his old chair creak, when the whispering wind blows,
I still see his jacket on the coat rack when it snows.
I miss his soft and tender voice, coming from the den,
I miss his gentle footsteps whenever he came in. Read more...
Poetry - Out Rage By Belinda Barchard
pacing up and down
no one around
to hear the sound of me screaming
my gut wrenching squealing
might as well stop breathing
grab my wrists
and pin me down
Poetry - Weekend Wasters By Bronwyn Ellis
Mundane Mondays, tedious Tuesda'
8 o clock starts and sugar free muesli.
Wednesday's the mile point that breaks up the toil,
By Thursday you've buried your head in the soil.
Fridays the high day when weekend begins,
People mince round the office with permanent grins.
They're happy go lucky and no-one can spoil it, Read more...
Poetry - I Probably Deserved It By Mike Watts
Early hours Monday
I had this mad episode
I thought I was being
I could feel the pressure
Around my throat
Fingers crushing my
Poetry - Squaddie By Terry Ireland
You've got to have been a squaddie
To understand the life;
The friendships that are sometimes
Closer than a wife.
You can see them on the streets
Seldom on their own.
Squaddie life doesn't support
Much time spent alone. Read more...
Poetry - The Four Corners of the Earth By Christian Bundegaard
Sparks when the plough strikes our forefathers' helmets.
New soldiers on manoeuvres drink milk by the dry-stone wall.
Only creeping blue moss in winter sun knows
which moments eternity is connected to.
In the early misty morning the forest
And a man with a kopper shadow expire.
A green bird sits on a branch. Read more...
Poetry - The King is Bread, Long Life Milk From a collection of short stories and humorous poetry, The Unitary Authority of Ersatz by Richard Sutherland
O Foodstuff Golem King with eyes of pastrami,
lettuce leaf tongue and nostril salami,
as you perch on your throne of marmalade shred,
I can't help but gaze at your strawberry head.
How I long to lick sugar from those big doughnut ears,
and dip crumpet hands in sweet chocolaty tears.
You were always delicious, even as a baby,
nappies just perfect for soaking up gravy;
Poetry - The Festive Fifty By Jim Higo (Repubished with additions)
I could top the charts with a power number,
A political song, raise the masses from slumber,
Do a gig on the Humber.
Dance on stage with footwork nifty,
I'd rather be in the festive fifty.
I could get Mick Jones to produce my single,
Go to A list parties, and mingle,
Write a radio jingle.
Poetry - Industrial Dispute By Terry Ireland
in the warehouse
nearly empty shelves
they'd been ram raided
By a bunch
of discontented elves Recently
Poetry - Letters From Santa By Bronwyn Ellis
Dear little children near and far,
No matter just how good you are,
I've had enough I'm sad to say,
I won't be working Christmas day.
And so I write my grave confession,
I've fallen to the lands recession,
My reindeer Rudolph broke his hoof,
My heating bill is through the roof,
Poetry - Competition Commission By Joe Hakim
The rain crackles like static
on the window
and the laptop sighs at the end
of the bed. Fucked off by
forces I control
I roll cigarettes and wait
for a break, and flip
bleached coppers into
Poetry - Mugabe's Prayer By Terry Ireland
Thank you Good Lord
For this fine day
On which my power
Still holds sway
You will of course
I think agree
You get much support Read more...
Poetry - The Vicious Circle By Lee Cassanell
Day twenty nine and the rum had run out
I woke up in the hold with the driest of mouths
In a dress made of lace and a pain in my arse
I recalled being tied to the foot of the mast
Then recoiled at the thought of the cabin boys fate
There were sharks off the bough so we used him as bait
And his screams as the fiends shredded meat from his chops Read more...
Poetry - Jesus (Who's He?) By Bernard Franklin
Sometimes I pray so hard at Christmas
That the world will look again,
At the reasons why we have to take
Sweet Jesus name in vain.
Where once the commercial side of Christmas
Was a seedy sin we bore,
It's now outstripped the gospel's teaching Read more...
Poetry - Commercial Christmas By Mark Walmsley
At last it's here the twenty fifth of December
The excitement, anticipation all our friends we remember
Food and presents, decorations in all their glory
Candles, mistletoe, mulled wine, chestnuts and holly
But in the North Pole, all is misery and gloom
No elves are working, no toys in any room
Last Christmas used all the money that was left Read more...
Poetry - 'Twas the Night Before Christmas By Bronwyn Ellis
Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
But nobody lay sound asleep in their beds,
They were all sat in A and E, pissed out their heads.
There was Dancer and Prancer, the twins from East Hull,
No teeth and a beard, but they still tried to pull.
They drooled at the mouth, as they clutched their gold purses,
Poetry - Tidings of Comfort and Joy? By Terry Ireland
The Sally Army band play their Carols in the street,
Deftly being avoided by hurrying scurrying feet
Of those busy shoppers hoping they can still
Find more alleged bargains this season of good will.
She sees pinched strained faces of those passing by,
Notices how very few will look her in the eye; Read more...
Poetry - The Way You Love Me By Bronwyn Ellis
We kissed for hours
One thing led to another
And as I let my breath recover
You held me tight as if to say
Not I love you
...Just Thank you
I pressed my lips against your head
Poetry - Sweet As A Nut By Mike Watts
I'm under the shower
Just about finished
I turn the dial
Squeak back my wet hair
I pull back the curtain
And with one foot up
On the side of the bath
Poetry - Cornflower Blue By Dayne Coyne
I have seen you down the pubs and down the gay clubs
Seen you walking past my window in the evening
You've got hazy eyes of cornflower blue
Yes, you've got hazy eyes of cornflower blue
Yes, you've got hazy eyes of cornflower blue
And that night that we went for a pizza
Did they shine with a different hue?
Poetry - Middle Age Blues By Terry Ireland
Kids and tobacco, you've got to be joking.
Filter tips and low tar you don't call that smoking.
Do you remember Senior Service
and Capstan Full Strength?
Full of lethal potential
every inch of their length.
You cleared your tubes
with a good morning cough
Poetry - A Not So Subtle Reminder By Joe Hakim
I don't know what I was thinking -
it was probably some half-baked
way to demonstrate my masculinity
equally as stupid.
I was drunk,
and for some reason it seemed
Poetry - This is Love? By Phil Pretheroe
a justifyingly uplifting,
guilt free swagger.
No care in the world,
Poetry - Fun and Games By Mike Watts
I'm battling the shits
And an agony so intense
I feel as though rats
Are tearing their way
Out of me
I double over and clutch
Poetry - Posh Girl By Jim Higo
Your faux civility knows no bounds,
You smile at me like a Thai waitress,
and for a second you almost persuade me
that you are genuinely interested in what I'm saying.
But then you nod when you shouldn't and I know you don't care;
your mind is elsewhere,
like when intelligent people are forced to sit through soap operas. Read more...
Poetry - Arts and Culture in Hull By Joe Hakim
it's about who your friends are
and the circles you move in
it's about the boxes you tick
and the forms you fill out
it's about being the same as
and crushing individuality
it's about appealing to the
Poetry - Metal Box By Dean Wilson
in the long grass
by what's left
of the factory
and I will count
on your back.
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 - Garbage By Terry Ireland
There was a memorial in the Cathedral
Then one father took a stand,
Refusing to grasp and shake
The ex leaders bloodied hand.
He was dragged up by his boot straps,
on an inner city sink estate,
from a family full of love,
lived in a street full of hate.
And he joined the British army
Poetry - Boxing The Compass By Carol Coiffait
You can stay
in one place
only long enough
to find your way
to the chip-shop,
and back home
to make a net
Poetry - Cider Barry By Mike Watts
My mate's a boozer
Always smashed on cider
Always lost in space
All over the place
And it troubles me
Watching him drown
In fermented apple
Poetry - Brough Haven By Carol Coiffait
Here, where they say the Romans crossed,
the river is raw;
a mangy dog chewing at its flank.
Great gobs of grass and mud,
slewing and shouldered,
field by sly field off the northern bank.
All that is left for the beleaguered sheep and lambs Read more...
Poetry - Ode to Sir John By Mark Walmsley
A warm summer noon, for a game of bowls
Lily white dresses on court,
Fine cut grass with honeysuckle perfume
A surely cocked boater
Gin fizz and water
Willow hooked seamer, red leather to be caught.
Clattering carts, over cobbled cascade Read more...