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Last Updated: 19/08/2010 16:30:04
The Rooster
By Jody McKenna
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Waves and lonely music
Desolate mountain standing proud
Tilting trees with nothing on 'em
Singing what she sees in clouds
Moon sinking over shadows
Birds flee free from harm
Frogs off rocks to catch the springs
Before the crooner wakes the farm
Lazy stars in velvet sky
Silence waits. Nothing escapes
The inevitable is drawing near
Soon does the country wake
Hear the crackle of the branches
Close your eyes as if to dream
Fall back into the deep unknown
Just another memory
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Copyright © Jody McKenna 2010
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Poetry The Fun Fair By Roy Amers
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People arrive for the time of their lives,
Children and husbands and also their wives,
Music and lights fill the night air,
and the smell of candy floss at the fun fair,
Slow rides and fast rides for the masses,
fun filled balloons filled with strange gases,
Coconuts a flying off their stands,
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Poetry Larkin 25 - I'm Not Larkin By Kerry-Joe Pulford
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I'm not Larkin.
I only want one hit,
Like Wordsworth,
The Daffodil one.
Don't get me wrong
I'm all for being prolific ...
But it's 25 to f***
And I'm still struggling
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Poetry - Beverley's Grumble By Jan McGeachie
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Ice and snow, coldest winter you say?
I yearn for the norm, every day
What do you expect? Let me be
I hate having now reached sixty
I'd really rather be o'er there
With Under Fives, for whom I care
Where ethics never slipped away
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Poetry - To See By Belinda Barchard
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Sometimes, just sometimes
We too, wish we were blind
Wish we could live outside our own minds
Live freely and without the confines
Of our tormented souls
Those thoughts and those feelings
Over which we have no hold
And sometimes no control
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Poetry - Larkin 25 - Life Is 140 Characters By Dave Windass
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I used to enjoy telling the world
What I was up to
Using 140 characters
But I woke up one morning
And realised that writing
For 140 characters Is a lot harder
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Poetry - Larkin 25 - A Mother's Lament By David Thompson
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Something borrowed, something blue,
So little time, so much to do,
Things to buy, things to try on,
All for a day that's here and gone.
A wedding list that's far too long,
Who to cross off, bound to be wrong,
A day that's meant to be full of joy,
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Poetry - Larkin 25 - Dust Jackets By Melanie Pearce
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I found a book in another town
It attracted my eye, one I couldn't put down
It promised me verses and secrets it hid
The kind of stories to pass to your kid
Instead it showed me the flaws in my self
This kind of book should be left on the shelf
But this jacket stood out amongst the rest
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Poetry - Larkin 25 - Local Language By Robert Swan
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'Cunts' can be either 'Silly cunts',
Or be reclaimed as feminine and pretty,
But 'cunts' not always a swear-word,
When you get dragged up in Hull City.
If you think something smells fishy
Then that's a pity,
So I'm gunnu explain
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Poetry - Love Story By Dennis Wild
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The day we met
a hoary old wildebeest
stumbled into a chrome-decored
gelati emporium
and gasped.
The profusion of colour
all but dazzled
his scrub wearied eyes,
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Poetry - Just Another Night By John Dervishian
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Moonlighting
With another drink
Waiting for
Something
Equivalent to
Death
While I Read more...
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Poetry - Word Power By Dennis Wild
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This poem has no belly button
no passport
no bill of ownership.
It arrived just hours ago
in a crate marked inflammable,
your name
stamped on the outside.
This poem has ambitions
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Poetry - Larkin 25 - Undeserving Heroes By Gary Clark
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Sometimes I wish I had a hero
And sometimes I think it's quite sad.
Someone to look up to
Wishing I had what they have.
But heroes can be disappointing
Especially to a six year old lad.
All blonde hair
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Poetry - Larkin 25 - Crow By Dave Windass
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There was a crow
In our front yard
Just the other day
Nestling between three wheelie bins
And discarded takeaway It scared me when I saw it
As I know they bring bad luck
It stood its ground
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Poetry - Larkin 25 - Fleas By Terry Ireland
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They took away his body armour
and he got killed by shot
For the serving soldier
just one ending of the plot.
There's no dignity on any front line
nor any comfort for those left behind,
but the antics of politicos
and their face saving rites,
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Poetry Larkin 25 - The Child Killer By Pamela Scobie
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I'll just take a walk, I tell myself,
A little look around.
I like the noise and the smell of it:
The fairground.
Hot fat, hot sugar, hot, fat flesh.
Belonging. Being anonymous.
Then I see him through the rage and din,
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