9-5

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9-5, art, contemporary poetry, creative writing, dagda publishing, poetry, wordpress, work, writing

There was nothing for me.

No stronghold veined between clouds
with starry tendrils and
diamond-edged turrets
with tall marble sentries.

The trains hidden in the earth were silent,
unmoving, and empty the pillowed steam
geysering between the rock palaces,
holding up the crawling plates.

Forests sit adamantly; jewel green
mausoleums curling to one verdant
heartbeat into a long
and empty tunnel.

A sheet of red water dropped flowers
on the secret side of a sky gouging mountain,
which close in petal paper hands
behind the nights blue light.

The cryptic clock tower,
a nebulous spike with a swinging tear of steel.
Boundlessly pushed by a faceless wraith
in the highest fire sky.

A fly buzzes an artificial current
against the restless vent.
Keyboards crackle random beats
of perfect and capitalized plastic.

A door chimes and lanyard clicks
against a copier, which groans hot paper
from its hunched back until the cheap and dead
light, pulls it’s shadow away.

There is nothing here for me.

© Patrick W. Marsh, 2013

*****

Today’s featured poem is by Patrick W Marsh from Minnesota. A beatific piece on the drudgery and grind of everyday life, which presents the quandary of the poet stuck in this everyday, 9-5 world and dreaming of something more. Full of suffocating imagery of a world that is dead to the person reciting the tale, which is undoubtedly familiar to many readers. Another piece we are very pleased to host here for your reading pleasure.

Leave your thoughts below on this piece, share, follow and hit us up on Facebook and Twitter to connect with us and experience more of the best new poetry and literature out there.

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Entitle

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blog, blogging, confessional poetry, contemporary poetry, creative writing, dagda publishing, poems, poetry, wordpress, writing

I turn down the bed
whilst listening to Otis Redding.
I’d do anything that’s hard,
anything the sun can do.
I’m drunk and dinner is cooking.
Fumbling around the kitchen
I haphazardly lay the table,
I should be celebrating with Dominic and the rest.
You come home, acrimonious.
I’m drunker still and
you’re screaming “Cunt!” and
I’m not really sure how to feel about it.
You’re green in the eyes and I’m red in the neck,
Come a little closer if you dare.

© Elliott King 2013

*****

Today’s featured poem comes from Elliott King, a 23 year old writer from the UK, currently undertaking his masters at the University of Hampshire. A cynical piece that tells of loathing, love bordering on the violent with the wrong people gone sour, and regret this is firmly in the tradition of the Beat poets. Elliot uses the imagery of being stuck into menial, thankless tasks against ones will to purvey a sense of isolation, lack of freedom and ultimately, being unwanted. A scathing, bitingly realistic piece of confessional poetry, that demands attention.

Leave your thoughts below on this piece, and follow us for more poetry and news of what is going on in our dark little corner of the literary world. Add us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter for timely updates and things we find interesting and want to share with you.

Brakes

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blogging, contemporary poetry, creative writing, dagda publishing, new poetry, poetry, writing

Travelling at the speed of light,
Travelling down the wire,
Travelling around the world,
Life on a razor wire,

Did you give me a glance just then?
Did you even notice?
Did I flash past, far too fast?
Did you?

It’s break neck,
It’s fireball fury,
It’s a poet’s angst,
Cut into your arm,

Did you give me a glance just then?
Did you not notice?
The shadow I cast as I flashed past?
Did you?

It’s break down,
It’s recovery,
It’s convalescent,
In decline,

Travelling at snail’s pace,
Travelling down the road,
Travelling through my mind,
Life on life support.

©Nigel D Paul 2013

*****

In todays featured poem, Nigel brings us into a world of turmoil, of turbulent emotions, of a life without the brakes on. Utilising brutal, desperate repetition and a breathless, break-neck style and meter, the reader is grabbed by the throat and drawn into this full-speed ahead world, taking them along for the ride and does not let them go until the final line.

Nigels’ work can also be found in both of our current anthologies. Leave your thoughts below and follow us for more of the best poetry from new poets out there.

Missing But Not Missed

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art, blogging, contemporary poetry, creative writing, dagda publishing, new poets, poems, poetry, wordpress, writing

You should be here,
but you’re just a thought in my head.
You should be the biggest part of my heart,
but instead that place is dead.

You should be the tree,
that stands so strong and tall,
Instead you’re the hidden bit of branch,
over which i fall.

You are the part of me thats missing
Dirty Grey and black.
You are all the things that make me me,
In all the ways i lack.

© Terri Michelle Roberts 2008-2013

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Todays featured poem comes from Terri Michelle Roberts. To us, this piece talks about absence, loss and the effect it can have on someone’s life. This is cathartic writing at it’s best, with a good use of metaphor, in a familiar way, but with a slight twist. Share your thoughts below.

Cinders To Ash – It’s Cold In Here..

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art, blogging, contemporary poetry, creative writing, dagda publishing, female poets, new poetry, poems, poetry, uk poets, wordpress, writing

She stood hair of scarlet
as a beacon on that lonely hillside.
Beneath the tilt of clouds,
more black than grey.
Silent, void in all her qualities.
Her derelict stance
made me stop – to glance.
In openness
I appealed
If one falls; if –
What then.
Her body faltered –
China pale descending petals
kissing cold the granite of whitest
white.
Who will light me a candle
on this barren night.
For in this bitter-sweet reek of living alone
I am about  to come undone.
My deceits  left me all mislaid
I battled hard those disliked
tendrils of ache.
Willed to purge them with my bile
Yet should I hold my self
in tainted censure –
Are men not born ill-fated; weak
so open to persuasion.
Should lacklustre climates;
gather about our feet.
Then surely, we can seek out
that warmth, so absent from the hearth.
May well my love, have blazed
her hair of red.
Alas, for me; it never seemed
to warm our bed…

© Poppy Taylor 2013

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Todays piece comes from Poppy Taylor, who we have featured before (under the name Poppy Scarlett). This piece of free verse to us has a little bit of Emily Dickinson in it. Melancholy, introspective, and searching for something. A stunning piece. Leave comments below and share this piece with the world.

Mirage

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art, contemporary poetry, dagda publishing, new poetry, poems, poetry, poets, wordpress, writing

There at the edge of the garden
We stand, looking away from each other,
As if you don’t know me –
As if I don’t care –

… and the seasons flow above us, silently…

Over the rotating edge
Off the windy cliffs upon the sea
One of us will disappear
While the other looks on
Looking away –
As if he didn’t care –
As if she didn’t see –

… and the seasons will flow …

© Meenakshi Jauhari Chawla 2013

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This is the second piece we have featured by Meenakshi. She is a poet living in India, and is a computer engineer by training. She writes poetry and experimental fiction that has been published in literary journals, print and online.

Ages Past

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blogging, contemporary poetry, dagda publishing, metaphysical poetry, new poetry, poems, poetry, poets, romantic poetry, wordpress, writing

Never shun a glory low and faded
But stand upon the backs of ages
Climb the columns and tangle hands
In vines wreathing alabaster span
Green touch of time on ruined might
As flowers strewn on graves incite
A soft fatality, a delight sublime
In wondrous crafts of bygone times

© Elizabeth Cook, 2012-2013

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Elizabeth is a student and poet from Ontatio, Canada. This is a short, metaphysical piece that to use has all the feel of the great poets of the 18th and 19th centuries.

Cells

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art, blogging, contemporary poetry, dagda publishing, female poets, metaphysical, new poets, poems, poetry, uk poets, wordpress, writing

Compressed.
The weight bares down on every cell
I hear their walls tear, and collapse.
Microscopic destruction.
How can the smallest of things seem so large?
We have been here before, my cells and I.
Pain measured in nerve, and in membrane.
The mind chases itself
into dark corners.
Ice-sharp synapses beg to be dulled.
If receptors could alchemise,
weight into words.
They could tell you how I feel,
but a problem divided, is still a problem shared.
And I have no cells left to sacrifice.

© Kellie Pickering 2013

Grab A Coach Home Heroes

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art, contemporary poetry, dagda publishing, journeys, new poets, poetry, sheffield, tim knight, trains, uk poets, wordpress, writing

Grab a coach home heroes,

sit amongst the somewhere men,

the here and there women

and the growing up fast kids,

with lantern phones, magic tones.

 

Everyone here is going somewhere,

winter’s bare

and home awaits.

 

Fantastic lips and red sense in style,

a lady reclines in front.

She texted Rhys, lengthy in characters,

whilst the plot remained precise.

‘I have to agree with you, let’s take it slow’

fantastic fingers itched her fringe.

Was she confused about love

and its rules and regs,

or was he a staller,

‘the old car won’t start again’ kinda feller?

 

There are no heroes on this coach tonight,

we’re Sheffield bound and

all without a fight.

 

© Tim Knight 2013

 

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Tim is an 18 year old undergraduate student from Cambridge, UK. Writer of poetry, performer of poems, who likes soup. Leave your thoughts below.

Still looking for contributors for our next anthology

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anthologies, art, contemporary poetry, dagda publishing, new poetry, poetry, wordpress, writing

Hey all. Another quick update. Submissions have been going well for our next anthology “Western Haiku: a Collection”. However, we are looking for more. So, if you want to get your poetry out there, drop us an email with a selection of Western Haiku (three short lines, not constrained to the traditional 5:7:5 structure of traditional Haiku, however traditional Haiku will be considered and included). All subjects are welcomed, we’d like to see what you’ve got.

Send your best work to our email address: dagdapublishing@hotmail.co.uk

Also, check our current publications. We have two anthologies out already, both Ebook and print, and we’d love you to have a copy. Follow the links to purchase. With your support we can continue to bring out the best new and undiscovered poetry out there.