Latest Submissions

And Yet I Write

How can solace be born from emotionlessness that presents as excuse for essence? If there were formulas for the denial of harm and eternity was the lot of human born, then the world would have been calculated as horror-filled or excruciatingly peaceful. . We evolve and the earth does move yet there are words enough to say what may be said and what may not. Corporeal. not quite enough, is all we seem to have as we kneel ...
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/ / Poetry / 75 words / /

Lessons in life (Part 4 It’s the little things)

Your mum is upstairs, said my father, his voice breaking over the tide of words he couldn't hold back ...
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Nothing Seems to Fit

Just a poem about rain ...
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/ / Poetry / 2 Comments on Nothing Seems to Fit / 373 words / / UKA PICK!

Dam Across the Lagan

This is a song written for Engineering Paradise the Musical but eventually removed from the script because, being the last song in the play and eurogising as it does the Continuity IRA, it would have left the audience with the wrong message. It was replaced with an acapella version of Leon Rosselson's beautiful anti-war song History Lesson. I have included a little bit about about Northern Ireland politics to help you get all of the ...
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Feeding from a flat hand

For the Ekphrastic poetry Challenge  Summers snap away with dandelion seeds, landing like aphids green on the breeze.   We grew together on those long days, notched on our fence posts, lonely in those corners. My secrets blown to pollen clouds, rising to reach the city;   I miss the muscle beneath your skin, the uncertainty in our eyes ...
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/ / Poetry / 5 Comments on Feeding from a flat hand / 51 words / / UKA PICK!

Running out

Alas, it is running out, our time on earth, dwindling every second into nothing gradually and remorselessly, while actually our only hope is that we'll never know when actually our time is out. What can we do with this world of incurable derailment but concentrate on inner worlds and render them at least as perfect and ideal as possible. You always start with what you've got, your own, that soul of yours that you were ...
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/ / Poetry / No Comments on Running out / 128 words / /

An ode to the selfish!

Do you ever look behind and do you care about whats there? ...
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/ / Non-Fiction / 54 words / /

Cuddly Pudsey Onesie

Not about me or my mum  🙂 ...
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/ / Poetry / 2 Comments on Cuddly Pudsey Onesie / 407 words / /

Dusk

Brave the nightfall. Alone if you must. Dusk To see the light of day, you must endure the night. Unless surmounted the fears of your night will eternally block your path. Although you can choose to never walk that uncertain road, you will exist knowing that their taunts will resound endlessly within, manifesting into regret. Thus engulfing all you had hoped to have or to have become. Or you can confront the night and all ...
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/ / Emotion., Inspirational, life, Poetry, spiritual / No Comments on Dusk / 98 words / /

Driftwood

I've been homeless a few times in my life but this night then foward unto dawn stands out in my memory. Driftwood I was content, drifting happily. Head propped up against my bag, curled up inside of a bunker hollowed by the manic hands of children, those children who exalt in the exploits of the day’s glory. I was content until the metal detectorists came. Sifting, beeping, scratching in perfunctory analysis of consistent dross. Peripheral ...
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/ / introspection, life, memories, Poetry, poetry / 2 Comments on Driftwood / 186 words / /

Ekphrastic Lie

(for savvi's poetry challenge Sept 15th) a haiku I wrote which can at least participate in a challenge accompanied by a photo since I was unable to write a decent prose section for another challenge which was about Veritas and you had to write a haibun. so I, to compensate, found an old poem (of mine) and a photo (fresh from google images) and now here it is! I proudly present you An Ekphrastic Lie ...
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/ / Poetry, poetry / 12 Comments on Ekphrastic Lie / 206 words / /

On the beach

a rather shallow cliché title, I am afraid... There was in your seduction too much art to ever be forgotten, too much love to ever be regained, too thorough an impression to ever be removed, too much sincerity to ever be abandoned and too much of you to ever leave me – you went down too deep into my heart to ever be released again from there, as the sincerity of love arrives to stay ...
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/ / Poetry / No Comments on On the beach / 109 words / /

Closed doors and corridors

Closed doors and corridors Www.davevaughanblog.wordpress.com 2016 ...
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/ / Poetry, poetry / No Comments on Closed doors and corridors / 101 words / /

For Miranda

Another from my collection, "Not For Sale"  - the 2nd edn. will be at the printer in October. I sit like Whistler’s Mother  Gazing at a passing shadow show  Recapturing flickering images.  A magic lantern montage of memories,  My ‘recherche du temps perdu,’ We wandered the Highlands and Islands  In our hand painted, candle lighted, Donkey drawn open lot bow top, And indulging serendipity Took the ferry across the Irish Sea. Campfire evenings under the ...
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/ / Poetry / No Comments on For Miranda / 219 words / /

Sail to me

Www.davevaughanblog.wordpress.com ...
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/ / life, Poetry, poetry, song lyrics / No Comments on Sail to me / 50 words / /

Getting Old

/ / Poetry / 4 Comments on Getting Old / 266 words / /

The other side

Looking back, our hollows became a sink hole. Your lipstick sealed it's smile with melted wax, held back from even a sideways glance. Once we could pull the grey from our blue and I knew without looking. Things only move down in here, mouths get filled with dirt, old boxes, mouldy with memories slide away unseen. Even a syringe that carries the cure needs blood before it can boast of success. Every good sink hole ...
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/ / Poetry / 2 Comments on The other side / 96 words / /

White blank page

White blank page. Once again I have nobody to talk to And once again I tell it to the page The one voice that could help see me through Left this world, left the confines of my cage I say my cage but it is not mine Never was I realised from an early age Not my home nor is it my place in time So I hammer at these confines unable to suppress my ...
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/ / Emotion., memories, Poetry, poetry / 7 Comments on White blank page / 126 words / /

Email to A Reader, CC Anyone. 4 (or 3)

never before the word Fuck! had such a tremendous effect on a writer, but who cares ...
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Topaz

The art of poetry considered less important than a pneumatic bust and a pint of real ale ...
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/ / Poetry / 2 Comments on Topaz / 413 words / /