The rioters and I. we go in different directions down the imperturbable street.
but we want the same things peace,calm and love .
The rioters and I ,we agree that the old ways are wrong and no longer fit. They want to smash, break and burn. Me a hater of violence does not want the old ways turned into martyrs but into lessons on how not to from history.
The rioters and I we agree that we are of one spiecies. We have diferent ways and diferent backgrounds. But one day we will find one calm, one love and one peace. where we can all live in peace as one down this imperturbable street.
The street will never be the same ,only better I hope! No more the rioters and I just love and peace.
when the old ways are no more, relegated into history.
written for the dverse prose prompt using
left overs. #odddays
LEFT OVERS! Cupboards still full of sweets and biscuits, Head and stomach refusing any more wine and brandy, Life back to normal after a fortnight feasting, New year, new me not bloody likely, Not until I step outside of polite society, As one of its leftovers. © rog leach 2019
Heading home, #quadrille.
Heading home.#dversepoetrypub, #wordatthewharf, #quadrille.Heading home, warm bed awaits,Hibernation craved,Zero till home.Tired.Two-mile snow 🌨 tunnel,Beckons me through,Muted world.Hush.Footprints lead the way, into darknessWho’s’, I wonder?Another adventurer?Perhaps.Swallowed by silent obscurity, Calmness descends,My footprints added,Zero fear.© 01/12/2025 rog leach Thanks Melissa for a fun word for tonight’s quadrille @ #dversepoetrypub. I have also included hibernate from Decembers writing…
coaxed away #quadrille
Coaxed.Noisy demands of rat-race,No longer appeal to my, Sense of belonging.The sound of the sea 🌊.Coaxing me to salty breeze.Noisy demands vanquished,By waves lapping over,My toes, even on icy morn.The sea shore coaxing,Away from inevitable madness.© 17/11/2025 rog leach hello all . how are you all. tonight @ #dversepoets pub we are discussing being coaxed…
CHAPTER 1. Loomings
Call me Ishmael. Some years ago—never mind how long precisely—having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation.
Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people’s hats off—then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.
perspective poetry 
It is best without the rioters.
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I hope we have calm streets and a better world, too. Thanks for joining in!
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May your wish for calm streets and a better world come to pass!
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Peaceful protests every time – safer and more effective.
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That is a beautiful dream…we need to work hard to achieve it. (K)
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Nice blog
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Thank you
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