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Poetry The Lost Keys  

The Lost Keys

Grandma, is that you?
I heard your voice.
Why have you gone?

We’ll go to Saint Anthony
to find the keys and glasses
in the lost past.

I can’t sleep in an empty house.
It is so dark here.
Loneliness drowns out thoughts.
I'm afraid of the noise of silence.
Tara doesn't want to go
squealing with grief.
I'll take the grid,
make the tea,
find the keys
only come back.

Without you I'm lost
in the clutter of life.

Post reply -->London Poetry Anna Banasiak 8 Jun
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Poetry Fix your Stage Fright and Anxiety Quickly and Easily!  

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Post reply -->London Poetry 23 Apr
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Poetry Looking to connect with other poets  

Hi Looking to connect with other poets in and around the London area,also to talk to anyone who has got there work published or anyone who knows someone who can do a website for me,please contact me via email  Mail-me 

Post reply -->London Poetry Ayanda 28 Dec
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Poetry hi there WAVERLEY ARMS  

 Mail-me  dose any one fancy a poetry club in the waverley arms its all done up and looking the nuts ?

Post reply -->London Poetry 16 Nov
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Poetry so much truth in these words !  

"I do feel sad, but I wont cry" ...this tells everything !
Has anyone stopped you yet ?

Post reply -->London Poetry ugho 19 Jun
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Poetry Lets share our poetry  

Hi Minnie, loved your piece of poetry,would like to read more, Q,  Mail-me 

Post reply -->London Poetry Q 31 Jul
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Poetry OH DEAR!!  

I broke my ankle today
I turned in the garden,
Just to say "pardon?"
To someone I thought I heard say
"A lovely bloom, but out too soon
They will never last for long"
I fell to the ground
Heard a cracking sound
Oh No!! Its me Lateral Malleosus!
"There!" I did say
"Will you please go away"
"You're making my eyes not focus!!"
The truth is you see
As I wait in A and E
I shouldnt have listened at all
For, I wouldn't have turned
And all that I learned
Was, to be nosey - could end in a fall!!!

Post reply -->London Poetry 26 Jun
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Poetry Tropical Cherry Tree  

I can imagine being a tropical cherry tree
Insecure and unloved at birth,
Weak textured wood
Created few nests and shadows.
My branch crashes
Like an old man's bone
In any extra burdens of life,
Unwanted plants hold onto me
Like blood sucking parasites.
A monsoon of love blossoms my fruit
Aubergine, ripe and divine,
If you treat me with a dry summer
I am bitter like new wine.
Roots of mine grab muddy soil
Not afraid of any fights,
In thousands of ways life hurts me
I will cling to my values, tight.
I love and am happy to see
The cherry tree in me,
And always wonder,
Can you see
The tree in me?

 Mail-me  16/04/09

Post reply -->London Poetry Jannatul Shammi 16 Apr
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Poetry celeste  


The sky, filled with rubies, jades and diamonds.
Each ruby scintillated joy,
Each jade glistened happiness
While the pretty diamonds gleamed like tiny moons.

At times, comets' tails inked Celeste with indigo
To cover the stains, left from myriads of days ago.

The sky, filled with flamboyant gems,
Yearning to please the fussy godesses;
Heaven, now, a garden of the spirits,
Welcomed the souls of the sinners and the righteous.

Mail Me

Post reply -->London Poetry tri ngoc tran(tt5555) 30 Jan
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Poetry The Butchers Cut of Lamb  

I set my gaze
She's yet to notice
For a long time now
Not on her lips
But lower
Down beneath
Her warm and pearly milky teeth

My gaze is not settled on the flash of breast she offers me
Though I take pleasure in fresh flesh
My eyes are intent upon her neck.


Post reply -->London Poetry S. Levene 12 Jan
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Bobble hat on with big warm gloves
Wrapped in a coat, wishing it were you
Seeing people go by, entwined against the chill
Thinking of you and I, wondering if it ever will
Be my turn for my heart to melt
I wish you knew just how I felt
About you
An endearing memory
But lost in the whirl of the autumn leaves

Post reply -->London Poetry minnie 22 Nov
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Poetry Maybe Soon  

Another week, a month gone by
I sit and dream
of you and I
That fateful day, when you came by
My heart did skip
And now I cry
For times we had, but let drift by
Whilst pondering what might have been
Always searching, but never seen
In my soul the memory to hold
Something to cherish as I grow old

Post reply -->London Poetry minnie 21 Oct
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Poetry Essex Poetry Festival  

WHETHER you’re a verse virgin or a budding bard, the Essex Poetry Festival guarantees to give you something to wax lyrical about.

From Buckhurst Hill to Wivenhoe, and Harlow to Southend-On-Sea, melodic ditties will be ringing in ears as rhyme and rhapsody take over the county.

The festival kicks off at Poetrywivenhoe on Friday, September 19, with a reading from Peterloo poet Christine Webb and local writer Joan Taylor, before the colourful montage of spectacles and masterclasses get underway.

The Essex Poetry Festival will run until October 25. For more information visit:

Post reply -->London Poetry 11 Sep
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Poetry poem  

Dosgs & workmen.

She expresses her love of life
through the joys and friendships
that matter to her.

A life is not a mere accident,
although accidents can happen,
they touch and we move on.

She likes e.e.cummings
as his words playfully
drip off the page for her.

Out there dogs woof,
woof their lungs full
on splish-splashy streets,
their language farting fully…

street workmen dig holes
below my dirty window,

and with the dogs and workmen
I tipsily remain focused
on her joys expressed in the world,
that pseudobeast beating its brains
in sandy streets wet with redstuff.

She gave me flowers for love
easily, innocently, she gave me love.

Post reply -->London Poetry vincent 23 Aug
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Poetry tipsily  


Post reply -->London Poetry ... 20 Jan
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Poetry Ambit Magazine Poets & Uncle Rabbit  

at Heathcote Pub, 344 Grove Green Road - 8.00 pm

Entry: £3

Leytonstone Festival presents an evening of music from Uncle Rabbit with poetry and prose readings from selected writers for Ambit Magazine. Donald Gardner & Naomi Foyle are among those appearing for Ambit.

Uncle Rabbit play a quirky mix of improvisation using rock & jazz riffs, and will be joined later in the evening by their special guest, John Ellis, formerly of The Stranglers.

Post reply -->London Poetry Noel Taylor 4 Jul
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Poetry poem  

this site seems to have become distinctly underused.

The battlefield is drawn.

Our artillery is mostly muffled
as we take aim in gentle ways,
the shells are filled with wit
sprinkled with sarcasm for fun.
We practice low-level conflict
and fire incendiaries at each other
that we easily dust ourselves off from.

Our warfare is an arena
of foolishness and stupidity,
we try to gain ground from
inert cannons and friendly fire.
We charge like fickle soldiers
who really don’t want a fight,
we say make love not war.

We find an armistice is agreed on
as I cook and you do the washing up.


Post reply -->London Poetry vincent 17 Aug
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Poetry She swims in my mind.  

She swims in my mind

She swims to the shores of my mind

gentle ripples of her sing a song

in the quiet whispers of tenderness

floating along my moments of solitude.

My wilder currents are animated

and gusts are blowing up a storm.

Along the water the stillness carries

her to me.

Her voice invades in heady silence

and her soul comes closer to me and mine.

Post reply -->London Poetry Vincent 10 May
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Poetry 1973  

Music man
Strumming life away
With blistered fingers,
poking out of black gloves.
And dirty nails,
making love to the guitar strings.
Like each touch is the first,
wishing the moment would last forever.

Those same half closed eyes
The same lost in a daydream smile,
that he had back in 1973

When he used to fill concert halls
And people sat in awe
His name in lights,
and on ticket stubs.
Back when someone cared
Even if it was for the wrong reasons

And now he plays here
As the world walks by
And I feel bad
Because his music touches me
But I never dropped anything in his hat
I pretended I didn’t see him
As I rushed by



Post reply -->London Poetry Mark Taynton 3 May
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Poetry The visit of a warlord.  

The winged gods fly into our boats
with the agility of mountain goats
a hovering army with their leader
always talking to us about his reader
and his ideas and justifying death
and if you look carefully at the breath
they cast no hardy shadow now
they have travelled into the dust - pow!
and taken their soul into the abyss
I'm glad we've given them the miss.

Post reply -->London Poetry Roland Butter 18 Apr
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Ah, Encule-moi doucement!

Post reply -->London Poetry S. Levene 12 Jan
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Bravo - en gros, s.v.p.

Post reply -->London Poetry Roger Mee-Slowley 12 Jan
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Poetry lol  

I thought of life
and saw only you
coming back to attack
other's with superior talent
and in doing so,
attacked yourself.

Post reply -->London Poetry Louise 14 Apr
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Poetry Steganopoiiseos ocean space.  

Now ocean space.

Space is the area around the country
Available at the end lost.
Palirroiaki strength and Marching
Holiday sand conceal dangerous
Flaques water, and less than short-term measures --
People are wrong.

Supply reduction
Klapei peoples lips,
In the short period between compassion
An empty sometimes kissing
It tracks Habib in the mouth.

Ocean has always cliché
Lost hope in people, is not it?

It is very easy to lose people in the world
What is the history of the illegality and facilities
Ploutos personenfreizügigkeit drowned in the floods.

Post reply -->London Poetry Roger Mee-Slowlee 12 Apr
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Poetry The far ocean space.  

The far ocean space.

A far ocean space is no place
to find each other lost.
Tidal tensions and creeping
holiday sands hide dangerous
puddles, smaller than short steps
between which people are misplaced.

Within the narrowing width
of peoples stolen lips,
in between short kindnesses
of empty paper kisses sometimes
no imprint is left on the lover’s mouth.

An ocean has always been a cliché
of lost hope and lost people has it not?

It is too easy to lose someone in the world
which conceals bodies and histories
drowned in the filled tidal stream of people.


Post reply -->London Poetry vincent 11 Apr
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Poetry Original Poetry and comedy workshop meet up  

Interested in writing comedy or peotry or doing it already and feeling ratehr alone...Want support, friendly constructive criticism and a laugh....Come along to the original comedy and poetry writing group..

We meet every 2nd and 4th Wednesday of the Month at 7pm at Garfield Community Centre, Garfield Road, London, SW11. Nearest tube is Clapham Common...Nearest overhead train is Clapham Junction or Queenstown Road.

Email  Mail-me 

Post reply -->London Poetry Rachel 9 Apr
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Poetry In each others sun.  

In each other’s sun

She and I staggered
without fight time,
thinking thoughts together.

She and I affirm
and move obstacles,
invisible obstacles serenely.

She is established, sleeps
when I am still awake.

My bed is warm,
a flower of warmth,
the petals of which
have wandered often
but now are still.

She is my garden
growing with ease.

I think I am her soil
but she slowly radiates me
and I am cultivated.

We are each other’s sun.

Post reply -->London Poetry Vincent 29 Mar
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Poetry An Ode To “What strange hours travelers keep” by  

What if?
The internal seeker’s
Quest from beneath.
Infiltrated, porous , free,
Suckling on its fragments of ether
Stichomancy, reality
an acquired taste.

What if?..
I asked 63336..
Define the desirable.
Cut out the cryogenics.
Soul so bountiful,
Pliable like the perception
of freedom.

What if?
she truly seek?
Or perhaps just strange .
Like her sister’s Bestfriend
De noted.
Loquacious, salubrious,
Engaging they cry,

What if? this is how
Ones Aries
energy must cascade,
Down their own,
Down trodden and
Lively walls
Forever too fast for infinity.

Post reply -->London Poetry Holly 27 Mar
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Poetry A heartshaped stone  

A heart-shaped stone.

On my pillow rests
a heart-shaped stone

The rolling waters,
strong piercing waters
pulling and pushing
Lady moon’s desires
and Father Earth’s
noisy quarrels
gave slow accident
to the complex body line
you’d placed carefully here.

The much of nature-time
swirls without complaints,
wrestled chattering stones,
the slate and the flint,
the shingle and shell
in blended shimmering beauty.

The life and death
of the fisherman’s catch
ploughing the darkness
for an abundant one
when the form
was being sculpted.

You worked the beach
and picked up this form,
which indent’s my pillow,
poised and peaceful.

Sinking into the feathers
its lies peacefully, like
a tranquil afternoon at rest.


Post reply -->London Poetry Vincent 11 Mar
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Poetry London Voices  

A small but perfectly formed poetry group meet to read their latest offering, to discuss and enjoy each other's company. This is a group of mature adults who enjoy the company of other's and have a passion for verse of all kinds. We invite you to come along and share your poetic thoughts and musings. The next meeting is on 29 Feb at the Lamb public house, Lambs Conduit Street, London WC1 on the 1st floor. If you have any friendly questions please email...


Post reply -->London Poetry vincent 28 Feb
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