Latest Submissions

Promises

“Excuse me sir. I saw you park your rig.”He looked me straight in the eye. It wasn’t a friendly look. He paused in his chewing and lowered the mug of coffee in his huge right hand onto the battered table-top before he replied. “Can’t give rides. Company rules.”“Please don’t say that sir. I’ve been here since noon and made two coffees last three hours and I still haven’t been able to get a ride.”He chewed ...
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/ / Fiction / 6 Comments on Promises / 3667 words / /

Smile

Another one from the heart ...(This hasn't appeared on the old UKA) ...
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/ / Poetry / 12 Comments on Smile / 91 words / /

Walter’s Picture…

Ruth Pointer was in the doctor’s waiting room awaiting her turn to be called. Normally she would have been irritated by the noisy children and sniffling adults, but it was clear from her appearance that her thoughts were elsewhere. The sign lit up for the next patient at the same time as the receptionist called her name. ‘Ah, Ruth, do come in and sit down, how are you feeling?’ It was just a week since ...
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/ / Fiction / 9 Comments on Walter’s Picture… / 669 words / /

Vera’s Era and Alan Shearer

Vera is in her 70s and a lifelong football fan. (My first, test post).   It was different for Vera,During her lifetimes era,Forget Zoltan Gera,And Alan Shearer,  The medals were silver,Greavesy was a scorer,Alf Ramsey a carer,Cloughie was a darer,  Players now are dearer,Shots are no nearer,Motives less clearer,It was different for Vera.   ...
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Mrs Rutter’s Dolly Blue…

This poem was first published on the 5th of July 2010. I was prompted to post it here by nemo's poem about distemper... The streets are all cobble, where large horses puff, Pulling dust-carts and coal, dead people and stuff! Gas-tar in summer that melts in the sun, Then in the winter home made sledges will run. Old corner shop with terraced house view, Where old Mrs Rutter buys her dolly-blue.* Patches on trousers - ...
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/ / Poetry / 4 Comments on Mrs Rutter’s Dolly Blue… / 258 words / /

Two Shades Of Underground Grey

made a commuting nerd's fantasy run riot! But, whose voice is it? ...
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Waiting on the Call

The tenure on this dalliance grows ever less appealing. All hell has broken out and the zombie masses are too painful to witness. Surely there is more to humanity, than clogs to clogs or indifference to truth in two generations? Mindless lemmings soldered to mobile phones asleep. Far from clinging on for dear life my life is no longer dear. My bags are packed and I am in the departure lounge waiting... My allegiance is ...
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Just Following Orders.

A poem that decries the New World Order and its minions. The time is almost upon us when the light will shine with lucid exposure of all those who put themselves forward to help the unfolding of the New World Order. Oh! Please do not try to loosen the noose around your neck. The knot is not for turning....(or loosening) The hang-man's grip is determined... Anyway, if he should falter, the queue reaches round the ...
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Distemper

Distemper: early type of paint before emulsion; a deranged condition of mind ...
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/ / Poetry / 4 Comments on Distemper / 95 words / /

Carlton Tallis RIP.

 This is the intro to a longer longer story about the demise of Carlton Tallis ...
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/ / Non-Fiction / 2 Comments on Carlton Tallis RIP. / 515 words / /

Parting of the Ways

Why did she say “I’ll be back soon”when she knew that it was a lie?It was not simply an ‘Arrivederci’but a deliberate and final goodbye. She felt stifled and needed spaceand said so in her Dear John letter.As long as the status quo remainedher situation would not get  better. Was well aware of the consequence-  the likelihood of an ugly divorce –but life with the newly found freedomwould significantly alter its course. The world would ...
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/ / Poetry / 11 Comments on Parting of the Ways / 173 words / /

The Dawn That Waits

Drifting into midnight, loosening ties to waking illusions, we enter the greater place. Vaguely familiar but shielded by misty confusion to those who fear. For death comes nightly and resurrection with waking. So why reject the natural progression of day to night, or life to life again? Unpredictable, perhaps challenging, the path ahead... but earth years are little more than sign posts on a hazy, forgotten road. And Karma rules, as sure as my belief ...
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/ / audio, Poetry / 2 Comments on The Dawn That Waits / 145 words / /

Bluebells of Scotland

Will you walk in the Bluebells with me? For times are changing; And only yesterday I was young and now, older, tomorrow? older still…Come, meet me in the woods, where light is shredded by the pines and ground becomes our sacred bed, full circle for one born to love out doors.I will caress you in sun-speckled splendour; Skin on skin in moss and leaves, Heart to heart and swapping breath for sighs alive in the ...
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/ / audio, Poetry / 10 Comments on Bluebells of Scotland / 96 words / /

Coming back…

This is in response to a 5 hundred word challenge that was submitted on the aternative uka site but didn't make it over to this one. Other postings seemed to make it okay? ...
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/ / droubbles, Non-Fiction / 4 Comments on Coming back… / 528 words / /

The Street

I kept asking myself why. Why was I going back? Would you? Will you? Why? The M1 and then the M6, mile after mile, and this question kept nagging me, like a lingering hangover, or teeth set on edge by a cold. Going back – was it something everyone wanted to do or did? To relive the past, for what it was worth? It wasn’t as if anyone I knew or had known lived there ...
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/ / Fiction / 4 Comments on The Street / 821 words / /

“Monday Bloody Monday”

Head bowed against siling rain Collar up shielding ears Hat brim a leaking spout Shoes beat a tattoo as He Lowried, Uphill, Cobbled streets. And cursed his need of meat And bread And eggs And milk for tea. A passing car scythed Gutter water Over polished shoes He raised his fist And cursed a curse That, against the wind skirl Went unheard A shopping list Suit out from Wizard cleaners. Perhaps, if he had the ...
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Critic’s Choice

We all take criticism of our work in different ways. Sometimes we thank the critic and sometimes we are cut to the quick by brutal honesty. If I say your poetry’s great Please don’t reciprocate Just say what you think It won’t cause a stink I will not shout or berate If you find my wit makes you weary If you think my poems are dreary If my purple prose Gets right up your nose ...
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/ / Non-Fiction, Poetry / 11 Comments on Critic’s Choice / 160 words / /

Vitamin Sea

The reason I feel so alive, Is ‘cos I learned to dive Between you and me Vitamin sea Is all you need to survive ...
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/ / Non-Fiction, Poetry / 3 Comments on Vitamin Sea / 15 words / /

Repeater

A corpse in a copse. I'd gotten to the point when my life was all but perfect. But then my best friend was killed. Murdered in a horrendous fashion. Well, I say 'best friend' but he was more accurately described as my enemy. Every one's enemy in fact. he only became my best friend after his death. Now this may all sound very confusing and contradictory but I'm sure that as we progress you will ...
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/ / fantasy, Fiction, LOTR / 4 Comments on Repeater / 1401 words / /