How can I possibly get up this morning?
I'm going to die and that's a warning.
Feeling half dead,
Got a splitting head,
I can barely walk.
My throat hurts - when I talk,
All my snotty - wet - hankies,
Wrapped up in my sodden blankets,
From my runny nose,
I'm feeling half froze.
I've had 2 litres of different medicine,
I've Taken Anadin, Asprin and Nurofen.
No one has ever felt as bad as me,
My eyes are all congealed I can hardly see.
Every bone in my body aches,
I'm dizzy and sick for fucks sake,
I can't eat,
Or stand on my feet.
It's alright for you women,
You get belly ache once a month ... then you're right again!
You just don't see
REAL pain, suffering and misery.
I'm shivering with cold,
And as hot as a scald,
My hands are shaking,
Can't sleep, keep waking,
I keep hallucinating,
Short of breath,
A feel near death,
My red sore nose -
I see a white light - my life's drawing to a close.
My Cough is Bronchial,
Heartbeat, barely audible.
I can feel my dying body drifting,
My condition, far from uplifting,
I'm so cold I've turned blue,
there is nothing,
Worse, than REAL Man Flu.
In the 1960's there was a big campaign,
'Keep Britain Tidy' went the refrain.
Do you think we could bring it back again,
The stuff on the streets is blocking the drain.
There's tin cans here and bottles there,
Wrappers, fag ends - all sorts of ware,
Take it home with you, you dirty mare,
Poetry - Grannyma By Dennis Wild
Grannyma, my father's mother,
Lives behind four Salford walls
Like a tinned and wrinkled prune
Drawing all her will for living
Not from God, or man, or Guinness
But from ceramic souvenirs
And her scrapbook of fluffy kittens
She's collected throughout the years.
Poetry - Jekyll and Hyde By Bernard Franklin
For changes in human behaviour,
I think that the biggest by far,
is the obsession and pride that we all have,
in the wonderful motor car.
We treat it with such a reverence,
like an icon that's sent from the Gods,
but it can turn the most mild mannered people,
Poetry - The Rooster By Jody McKenna
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
Poetry The Fun Fair By Roy Amers
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,
Poetry Larkin 25 - I'm Not Larkin By Kerry-Joe Pulford
I'm not Larkin.
I only want one hit,
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
Poetry - Beverley's Grumble By Jan McGeachie
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
Poetry - To See By Belinda Barchard
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
Poetry - Larkin 25 - Life Is 140 Characters By Dave Windass
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
Poetry - Larkin 25 - A Mother's Lament By David Thompson
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,
Poetry - Larkin 25 - Dust Jackets By Melanie Pearce
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 Read more...
Poetry - Larkin 25 - Local Language By Robert Swan
'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 Read more...
Poetry - Love Story By Dennis Wild
The day we met
a hoary old wildebeest
stumbled into a chrome-decored
The profusion of colour
all but dazzled
his scrub wearied eyes,
Poetry - Just Another Night By John Dervishian
With another drink
While I Read more...
Poetry - Word Power By Dennis Wild
This poem has no belly button
no bill of ownership.
It arrived just hours ago
in a crate marked inflammable,
stamped on the outside.
This poem has ambitions
Poetry - Larkin 25 - Undeserving Heroes By Gary Clark
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
Poetry - Larkin 25 - Crow By Dave Windass
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
Poetry - Larkin 25 - Fleas By Terry Ireland
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,
Poetry Larkin 25 - The Child Killer By Pamela Scobie
I'll just take a walk, I tell myself,
A little look around.
I like the noise and the smell of it:
Hot fat, hot sugar, hot, fat flesh.
Belonging. Being anonymous.
Then I see him through the rage and din,
Poetry - You Never Said Goodbye By David Bannister
You went away that lonely day,
You never said goodbye.
I waited till the sky was dark,
And I began to cry.
Please come home soon Mam, I did say,
It isn't very fair
I never meant what I said,
You know I really care.
The balmy, early morning
Swirls and twirls in my gaze
Primary coloured windmills
In the salt tang air
The waving, littered tide line
Edges and hems the sand
single, shell and cobbles
Poetry - Larkin 25 - Sounds By David Thompson
Beeching's decimation of the rail,
Has left a leafy woodland trail,
Once a branch line to the sticks,
Took folks to 'With' for two and six,
That passes close beside our home,
A rustic byway free to roam,
From dog walking and country hikers,