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Tatiana Aug 2019
Outside the cigar shop is an elderly man
he is leaning against a parking meter
fumbling the quarters he pulls from his deep pockets
and dropping them into the machine
the metal clinking as it accepts the change
and only reading 20 minutes
the old man scowls at the meter and puts in more coins
until it reads 1 hour
he digs around in his pockets and turns them inside out
he has no more
grumbling to himself, he pushes away from the meter
entering the cigar shop
and I'm left sitting in my car wondering
how we can spare some change for more time
for the things that will lessen the time we already have
©Tatiana
Colm Jul 2019
When you see me sitting there
     Contemplating
          Forgetting life

It’s partially to be seen
     But also to be
          More than away from the self-trapped in skin

As I AM
     But I’m NOT
          In that moment again
I AM But I’m NOT
Aa Harvey Jul 2019
All abuzz about a bee


The name’s Humble B. Bumble; welcome to my mall.
How do you do?
If there is anything that you need, I am sure we have it for you.
Need a fresh *** of honey to go with your food?
Not a problem, keep the bottle; I saved this one especially for you two.


Do you need to buy your honey something new?
Not a problem, all honey is good here, I can make honey too.
If you see something you like, I am sure we can find you a good price.
The sugar sure is nice; we just got this frozen stuff,
You won’t believe your eyes!  
They call it ice;
It keeps the water cold
And you just need to add flavour to savour,
The refreshment of your soul.


Your honey’s no good here; the first drink is on the hive;
But I must insist after that, your wallet must appear
And please do not drink honey and then dive.
I will have the bar-staff make you something to drink
And when you are feeling all warm and fuzzy inside,
There is a quiet section for you to sit and think.


Only you can decide what will bee next on your shopping spree.
We’ve got ‘Beegee’s and Banana’ and ‘Our-army’ suits.
There is the Jumper Gotye fashion store
And Kelvin Flies if that is what suits you.
Gooey has more high-end goods, if you have got the honey to spend.
Whatever you need, you will find it here at the ‘All A Buzz’ Mall,
PO Box 3B, Fly Mile End.


If you live in the sky and want to bee a diner,
Then you won’t find a place that is finer.
If these syrupy sweets are not at all to your taste,
Maybe you could think about some bling for your wings?
We have the little shop of forgotten treasures;
I am sure we can find whatever you need or think,
Would improve your life.  Our doors are always open to new idea’s!
We work through the night, to fit your clothes, right on;
If you need a refund, we will always bee right here.
Here, take my card and don’t forget to mention my name.
The middle initial stands for Bee
And Y’all Bee sure to have yourself a nice day!


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Ed C May 2019
It sounds like a pet shop
in my head, the twitching
tongues of birds, the spinning
of rodent’s wheels, the tap
of reptiles on the glass.
The animals never stop living
inside my head.
On some days it feels like chaos,
like they’re all running free,
no cages
no glass
running free inside my head
while the world burns inside it
never silent.
Anybody else ever have to extinguish a runaway train of thought?
Emma Apr 2019
There’s a little coffee shop
Down an avenue, I like to walk.
It smells like I imagine you still do,
Inside that little coffee shop.

That little coffee shop is where we used to go
When life was good and happy.
We didn’t have a care in the world,
Inside that little coffee shop.

Looking back on that little coffee shop,
It still amazes me how much things have changed.
I would never have imagined that you could hurt me like this
Inside that little coffee shop.

That little coffee shop still feels like home to me,
Its warm fire still makes me glow.
But it will never be the same without you
Inside that little coffee shop.

In that coffee shop is where you first showed me
How it truly felt to be loved.
I would never have realised that your love would lead to this,
Inside that little coffee shop.

As I walk past that little coffee shop
I am hit, again and again, with the familiarity that our love is over.
I walk past in the knowledge that I will never see you again
Inside that little coffee shop.

That little coffee shop will always be my home for you,
Its where my memories of you
Have laid to rest. It will always be
Inside that little coffee shop.
8M Jan 2019
I look at the old shop
It only closed a few days ago
I remembered it by name
And the people that worked there
Their names were Jane and Harold
A couple who started the business on their honeymoon
A simple store, selling simple things
Coats, towels, brooms
And yet I always came
So they could be happy

However, money was tight
Few customers ever came
The two grew worried
They couldn't keep up, but they tried to
Sold all their belongings, just so they could be happy
Jane was infertile, but she knew the shop was her baby
When she cried, Harold cried
And eventually, they let go

I walked to the empty storefront
Sometimes I could see the two smiling
I'm sorry about my absence.
There is a barber shop built on the ashes of Babylon,
where men lose their ******* with shame that skip to the fourth kid,

There once was place where Samson's hairstyle was a treasure map.
A place where lost man travel
Where David found no stone
where Noah built an Ark but storm never came.

When we pass through that place even the stars we use for direction disappear.
Steve Page Nov 2018
I love the warm smell more than baked bread.
I love the old stories flooding back through my head.
I love the middle-age chatter, with child like mutters,
finding old favorites in old familiar covers.

I love the personalised fountain-penned message,
carefully scribed and meticulously dated.
I don't care about the number of dog eared pages,
or the tell-tale signs of well worn aging.

Tea stains and small tears - they don't bother me,
each tell a new tale beyond what I can see.
I love the weight of the years sitting in my hand,
I love the tether to past lives multi-second-hand.

With memories of libraries with warm worn carpets,
wall to wall adventures and sun faded artists,
battered yellow seats, shooshed conversations,
quietly spoken protests at the books being rationed.

I stayed past closing, riding trains of free thought
with Tin Tin, Asterix and old Mrs Pepperpot.
I'm still drawn to the pages and the feeling inside
second-hand stories where memories reside.
My dad taught me to love reading. My kids learnt it for me.
Jillian Jesser Oct 2018
sitting in a coffee shop
a man is grinning while
he stares at his laptop
the light from the screen
reflects off his glasses
and his eyes are great
white orbs and he
smiles and smiles and
all I can think is
that I will never
hear you sing again
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