Monthly Archives: April 2011

Liz MacDonald

Farewell then Bev Mother to Steve and Andy (where did he go?) Wife of jailbird Jim Proud matriarch One time Queen of the street Your abdication has shaken us To your foundation. No skirt was too short No blouse too … Continue reading

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Words Fail Me

A medium Big Mac Meal With coke To eat in please And that concludes my order Was that medium or large? What drink would like with that? To eat in or take out? Would you like anything else?

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Haiku’s for “Hope” Concert

Inundation Swelling waves shatter Spring’s promise cruelly broken But buried bulbs wait Magnitude Nine Cracked earth cries out loud Cold coda to winter’s stare Silently waiting Fukushima Tiny droplets hang Still crying over spilt milk A nuclear spring

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RAF Finningley

My bicycle leaned Against the fence It had a bell Just in time They came As Mulciber roared Once so did they Steel birds of death Trembling Wondrous They soared by the rage Of Olympus With god-like grace Hovering On … Continue reading

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Grounded

This was inspired by a true story I heard from the lips of the (foul-mouthed) miscreant I can’t fucking believe it The teacher told me to move For no reason “I’m not fucking moving” I said But I was sent … Continue reading

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Parole Parlate

Little Venice, St Nicholas St, Worcester THIS monthly event has been attracting an increasing level of interest in recent months. A combination of a strong bill, curiosity, and a personal invitation from organiser Lisa Ventura moved me to check it … Continue reading

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Desiderata

Her middle finger traced a perfect line Sinking into a moist abyss Her senses swam her eyes blurred The always perfect kiss Moving, rippling tingling cupped A sensuous solo clinch The grinding slow gyrating climb Sweet agony of the pinch

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Women Only Slam

So Soul City Arts feel the need to run a “women only ” slam.How curious. In my experience more than half of Slam entrants are women anyway, and they regularly win. Why the need for exclusivity?

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Hunted

The tracker stoops Eyes in a narrowed studied stare Seeking what had passed, And gone by there A bruised blade of grass, Perhaps a cracked twig The faint imprint of heavy feet Yet the final gasp Leaves no trace

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Worcester to Birmingham

Driving at night Distorts place and time The familiar is lost In a black blanket Bright lights seduce And deceive Ahead an uncertain Terrestrial constellation Sprawls Trusty landmarks Disappear There is just you Your journey And your destination.

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