Christmas Eve
By these lights, which are doubling
for snow and carol singers,
the eyes of a ten-year-old boy
look like coals kept at bay
below the cool and lucid brow.
His heart - full to the brim - broils.
The shop's PA system tells us again
how it wishes it could be Christmas
every day, and I laugh a little
nervously as shades of...
Read More
By these lights, which are doubling
for snow and carol singers,
the eyes of a ten-year-old boy
look like coals kept at bay
below the cool and lucid brow.
His heart - full to the brim - broils.
The shop's PA system tells us again
how it wishes it could be Christmas
every day, and I laugh a little
nervously as shades of...
Read More
huck:
bah humbug
gnarl:
yes.
i've just been made owner of the urban poetry cafe. come and join in!
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
gigondas:
You should be beyond novice by now. Give yourself credit.
niobe:
Happy Holidays! 
I should slow down
sometime
which is not so say
I live an accelerated life
but I should
slow down
let violence find me
with its dripping tongue
wheeling vista
my new book is available to buy or download here
sometime
which is not so say
I live an accelerated life
but I should
slow down
let violence find me
with its dripping tongue
wheeling vista
my new book is available to buy or download here
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
limowreck:
Its about time they made you group owner. Congrats on that. 
i
am going to
kill
the men
digging up
the pavement
with
their stupid drills
at 7
in the fucking
morning
am going to
kill
the men
digging up
the pavement
with
their stupid drills
at 7
in the fucking
morning
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
gingerflower:
..been devoting more time to the music and less time to the poems recently. I do feel a sudden burst of expression though, hence my return.
markbousfield:
Fuck
them
drilling men
drill them
in the
fuck hole
them
drilling men
drill them
in the
fuck hole
Problem of Evil
every time I looked into
the corner of a darkened room
waiting for Satan's amdram
to deliver its line between fact
and truth - the red crack in our
chequered curtain - part of me
turned its back on this world
but
whenever I held a knife, and
explored its whispers of light
I was complicit in preserving
the silence of the...
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every time I looked into
the corner of a darkened room
waiting for Satan's amdram
to deliver its line between fact
and truth - the red crack in our
chequered curtain - part of me
turned its back on this world
but
whenever I held a knife, and
explored its whispers of light
I was complicit in preserving
the silence of the...
Read More
silveronthetree:
I really like this a lot.
How did it come to you?
How did it come to you?
silveronthetree:
I`m a firm believer in `every one of us has the potential for evil`.
Without accepting that I think its hard to be genuine.
We harp on about whats wrong and right but there are so many shades of grey.
I`m sure you and I could kill given the right circumstances. Is that evil? Is it evil to want to live more than someone else?
Mostly I think we label people or groups as evil as they are different to us.
Keep well
Without accepting that I think its hard to be genuine.
We harp on about whats wrong and right but there are so many shades of grey.
I`m sure you and I could kill given the right circumstances. Is that evil? Is it evil to want to live more than someone else?
Mostly I think we label people or groups as evil as they are different to us.
Keep well
Paper Bag
After the floods,
he picked through the rotting debris
and found a barely preserved paper bag
on a low shelf in the hall. Inside,
the toothbrush and tube of paste
he'd bought to leave in a woman's home,
for those improvised nights and mornings.
Forgetting the smell
and rank humidity, he studied a while
the objects, artefacts of a time
when an isolate...
Read More
After the floods,
he picked through the rotting debris
and found a barely preserved paper bag
on a low shelf in the hall. Inside,
the toothbrush and tube of paste
he'd bought to leave in a woman's home,
for those improvised nights and mornings.
Forgetting the smell
and rank humidity, he studied a while
the objects, artefacts of a time
when an isolate...
Read More
VIEW 9 of 9 COMMENTS
valcapone:
Thanks for reading my long-ass rant. 
But seriously, I wish I knew how to spot these phonies from the get-go, so I could save myself the hassle of trying to work with people who don't want to do the work. Any suggestions?
But seriously, I wish I knew how to spot these phonies from the get-go, so I could save myself the hassle of trying to work with people who don't want to do the work. Any suggestions?
johnnyt:
I've been arm and arm with a Bukowski reader for the past few days. It makes me SO happy - even when he disturbs me or makes me sad.
I know you understand.
And I agree with Hemlock above, you are an old soul - and lucky for us!
i was to discover two
things:
a) most publishers thought that anything
boring had something to do with things
profound.
b) that it would take decades of
living and writing
before i would be able to
put down
a sentence that was
anywhere near
what i wanted it to be.
I know you understand.
And I agree with Hemlock above, you are an old soul - and lucky for us!
i was to discover two
things:
a) most publishers thought that anything
boring had something to do with things
profound.
b) that it would take decades of
living and writing
before i would be able to
put down
a sentence that was
anywhere near
what i wanted it to be.
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
thora:
p.s. yes fucking way am I 39
gigondas:
It's really good, Huck.
Years
The residue of you is spread
across the sheet of day.
Our mouth has dried.
Impotent with love, I am
looking at truth with too few eyes,
at faith in too few skies.
Beauty, beauty, beauty
drives my crowd of years to mime.
And yet I still repeat ourselves.
The residue of you is spread
across the sheet of day.
Our mouth has dried.
Impotent with love, I am
looking at truth with too few eyes,
at faith in too few skies.
Beauty, beauty, beauty
drives my crowd of years to mime.
And yet I still repeat ourselves.
The Deflowering
and in
a dream, I wrote on the wall
in the space above the pictures
of your favourite stars, I wrote
something about a Day
and a Heart
and an After, in the style
of the pioneers of song
and in
a graceful counter-whim
I erased it, while you
and your companion
sat cross-legged, looking on
and in
a dream, I wrote on the wall
in the space above the pictures
of your favourite stars, I wrote
something about a Day
and a Heart
and an After, in the style
of the pioneers of song
and in
a graceful counter-whim
I erased it, while you
and your companion
sat cross-legged, looking on
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
billybillybilly:
I appreciate you keeping me in mind. I just wrote something the other day that I'm not sure if I'm proud of or not. I'm gonna give it a little time first, and I'll probably post it either way.
kid_hideous:
Huck and his punc.