Writing

My only Love

By Denise Carruthers / 27th March, 2018

The only man I ever loved He lit my heart and set me waiting I waited till the sun was lower than my dreams Until I felt the charred remains…

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Octopus

By Denise Carruthers / 19th March, 2018

Octopuses,  octopi,  octopodes Hmm, no matter how you say it He’s the whip. the Top cat of eight tails Got all those suckers working for him No bargaining no hard…

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Wisp

By Denise Carruthers / 12th March, 2018

I am the seed the winds forgot Alone, my dandelion dreams With no breath to wish upon Nor breeze to carry me to him Only thoughts of love to fuel…

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Let’s go dancing

By Denise Carruthers / 12th March, 2018

There he was, The dancer, Arthur rumba Stepping out to the song, you may have heard it Sumba chanted evening. He loved to dance from old to rap, cha cha…

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my poetic love

By Denise Carruthers / 9th March, 2018

He’s part man part poetry & leaves on mottled wings Made him a need of flying That he must be free to go To come to her as midnight dreams…

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Brew

By Denise Carruthers / 9th March, 2018

How do you take your poetry With milk & sugar or poured straight black Do you dunk your words Drizzle ink upon your pages Taste the swill before the swallow…

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Unknowingly

By Denise Carruthers / 9th March, 2018

In the never never, an unknowing A brilliant light too bright to see Look ye yet in one breath of air the living Denial is a blind eyed death and…

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Pretty faces

By Denise Carruthers / 9th March, 2018

Bedazzled by the sunlit awe The flowery fragrance Of primrose and promises Bent from the sway Nodding heads forget me not What lurks in the garden Beneath the show Danger…

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Losing It

By Denise Carruthers / 4th March, 2018

Don’t expect a drum roll warning From mirth & madness that ferments in the mind A sudden snap …and a mental bone is broken A kind of derangement, a doolally…

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Jewels in the crown

By Denise Carruthers / 3rd March, 2018

They couldn’t burn a candle for a king Light a simple idea for a knight But sure as shit and shillings spent It’d be the copper that was bent Or…

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fucking flies

By Denise Carruthers / 1st March, 2018

between my sighs an empty nest and all the fragility that fledglings felt falling down on my soft self

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warm places

By Denise Carruthers / 1st March, 2018

No time for tears quarter of a moon or fifteen past the morrow that sorrow hangs its weary head upon the many & the warm places pillows friendly shoulders promise…

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