Paper round!

today @ #dversepoetrypub we are waxing lyrically about newspaper.

only one wat to go for me back to the Monday evenings of my early teenage years delivering the local rag.

A cut and paste poem, I created for a poetry workshop (David Bowie influenced).
Paper round.
#poetry, #dversepoetspub,
#childhood,

Monday, bloody Monday,
Legs aching, mind reeling,
School bags haphazardly dumped,
Uniform into the wash, calls mum,
Out to face the weather with numb fingers.

Monday evening blues,
Legs aching, heart sinking,
Paper round bags collected,
Walking shoes rubbing,
Out to face the grumpy old gits with barking dogs.

Monday evening niggles,
Legs aching, belly grumbling,
Paper bag empty and returned,
First wages burning holes in pocket,
Newspaper print, all over hands.

Monday evening joy,
Wash them hands! dinners waiting,
Siblings crashing in from their evening rounds,
Homework before bath, before warmth of bed,
Home to face the crazy and the love of my family.
© 21/01/2025 rog leach

pop, pop, poop

POP, POP, POOP!

Are you a robot 🤖? NO.
Blowing Robotic.

Wind blowing through,
An icy wind.
Mindless.

Soul sold for,
Manufactured Pop, pop, poop,
Contrived by AI.

An icy wind blows.
MINDLESS.

Soul sold for,
Synthetic pop, pop, poop,
Contrived by corporation.

An icy wind blows.
MINDLESS.

Soul sold for,
Fabricated pop, pop, poop,
Contrived control for mindless automaton.



Take a stand,
Be that icy wind.

Soul sold for,
Engineered pop, pop, poop,
Contrived entitlement not believed.

Watch real music grow.

Blowing robotic.
Are we robotic 🤖?


© 01/01/2025 rog leach

hi all here is a poem a wrote about a conversation on music with my daughter. lets just say we did not agree. my taste is to loud and hers is to manufactured.

Blue Margins

Mohssin Amghar’s blue is silent.

Blue margins!

#margins, #loneliness, #blue, #dversepoetspub.


Standing in the cold blue margins,
Thinking, follow the gull, out to sea.


Craving the cold blue sea breeze,
Knowing the darkness of empty loneliness.


Standing in the cold blue margins,
Marginally better with the breeze in my face.


Craving the cold blue sea breeze,
On the edge of sanity, the black dog barks.



Standing in the cold blue margins,
Leaving my clothing on the beach.



Craving the cold blue sea breeze,
Following the gull out to sea.

Standing in the cold blue margins,
Not the place for me.

Craving the cold blue sea breeze,
Until I find warmth of love.


© 14/01/2025 rog leach

thanks Dora @ #dversepoetrypub today in the poetics prompt we are about margins.

Dance of feathers

Raggina bird of paradise photo by Michael Sammit

Dance of Feathers.
#dversepoetrypub, #berkopoetrysociety, #nature'

Dance you say,
what tune?

Above me only cloud,
Below us only hu-man waste,
Piled up for all to see.

Dance you say,
what tune?

About me plumes of fumes,
Swirling under wings,
Thickening the air we breathe.

Dance you say,
what tune?

Abortions of man fill my home,
Defiling my feathers, my young,
And our health.


Dance you say,
what tune?


No more shall we share,
Feathers with which, to decorate,
Their hats etc, etc, etc,

The tune of paradise,
All squarks, chirps and fluttering,
Returns after fashion.

Our feathers of many a hue,
No longer accessible,
For your beatification.

1st © 29/12/2024 rog leach
2nd © 07/01/2025

thanks Melissa for a great prompt. i have reworked a poem written for the first meeting of 2025 for the Berkhamsted poetry society https://www.berkhamsted-poetry-society.com/ of which I am a member. which was to write a piece from the point of view of an animal.

This land within

This land within.

#tikiswritingguild, #dversepoetspub, #flaminghaibun, #lostlove.

There’s movement out there in the valley. The snow-covered valley, Asleep under snowy blanket. Coming awake, shivering, in this new inner land. In this land that is your land. Coming awake, in this new inner land. In this land that is my land. Your love never truly mine.

There’s movement out there in the valley. The sun-bleached valley desolate. Asleep under a myriad of stars we once shared, now my pals. This land within now just memories of the love we shared and lost. This is now my land alone, not longer your land. Mine to share with those in my future.

Movement in the valley,
Asleep under snowy blanket,
Coming awake, shivering,
Heart-broken and alone,
Your love never truly mine.

Sun bleached valley, desolate.
Myriad of stars now my pals,
Mine to share with the future.

Movement in this land,
Asleep under white blanket,
Stars for my future.
© 06/01/2025 rog leach

wow what an interesting form. thanks Lisa @ #dversepoetspub. I have gone with a double prompt here. one of the writers groups I am a part off challenged us to write a piece to include the lines “In this land that is your land. In this land that is my land.” which is a song lyric the song title and singer I cannot recall. but whoever’s it is thank you.