Floodgates open, thousands of people

darting along, some flounder, some flourish,

each one striving for that extra turn of speed

that ensures they will reach their cherished

destinations before anyone else.

In this endeavour they wander, and weave,

many attempt near suicidal crossings of

car, and bus infested thoroughfares,

cheating death by millimetres to

resurface on the other side, rejoining the

seething shoal of…

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Hello everyone!

There have been lately unwelcome comments made on people's poems.

After receiving some complaints I have counselled the people responsible and invited them to renew their familiarity with the member's poetry welcome and the notes therein on the tone of comments.

Naturally I'm confident things will improve.

Simply put – let's all act in a positive and contributing way when making comments on the…

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Livian hentarin, canetras curively,

howing lin miu



pointule sobee lezanba

cruish ku,



tribly basgondig trir sktistup

prasleirli, blaffly, threelie



livian hentaring, canetras curively,



curverly, eshin discriavely

sclammed findenbo sytgra



bligerevas e ekvedae dhowb

resgalee princongee aarplumi ahhh!



eren bas rebas sosho bereque ne bas



wrery towahgie? loz nobay kirinki

tu kai

inne ne inne… Continue

The expanse
of a chest

is planet-like

as breathless is to hyperventilation

the planet spores as pleomorphism and
gasps in pneumatophores

the soft mangrove roots 

muddy to the apsis

the flower heats anemophilic

to love a plant-christmas

of nightqueen's nostalgia

savages the political perihelion

of this expanse
a planet's inspiring
chest.

 

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Half moon clinging to

early morning light,

translucent and fragile against

blue sky.

A silent watcher from above,

watching over man

and beast.

His night time duty finished

he lingers, as if waiting

for further orders,

perhaps he is hanging back to see

if this mad world is any

different in broad daylight.

 

Finding no sense, no rhyme,

no reason,

he resumes his decline.

Helped…

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Sunday walk …    ….    ….  hangmans shirts just talk…

I hope I wont stay all the day…

What???  I have to pray???!!!

Who made this glue? Who???

What can I do ? … what I do …?

I dream about you night and day …

we ran through a meadow and you smiled on me…

we ate together and you smiled on me…

we falled asleep, you smiled on me…

I have to wake up and move ahead to finally reach you!…

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They know their own language … take care each other…

Escalator glides upwards . . .

21 people glide upwards too . . .

Fat . . .Thin . . .Large . . .Small . . .

Tall . . .Young . . .Old . . .Black . . .

White . . .Male . . .Female . . .

 

Some remain stationary on this

escaltor to second floor

shopping heaven . . .

others can't wait that long,

they push past to attain

retail Shangri-la, or

somewhere close to it,

the pulse of the almighty

dollar…

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Lying static

fuzzy station

airy

radio noise

near ears



you can hear

late night

bird spark



ruined by

caresses

of the truth



that your eyes

want to love me

and melt



in pity

at acceptance

of…

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The moment

and the

minute

become the hour

and the day,

and just as

time builds

on time,

we two

have followed

that same path,

with love

our constant

companion

through thick

and thin . . .

sometimes

considerably

thicker than

thin.

All in all . . .

 

amazing !

As you may or may not be aware P76 Magazine published 5 issues in the 1980's and 1990's. There was to a be a 6th issue in 1993/94 but through a series of unfortunate events it never happened and we believed that the issue had been lost. Recently, however, we discovered a number of old floppy disks and on one of them we found the lost issue 6. After transferring the data our current computer we completed the…

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