Detritus Of The Drunken Night by Ian Lewis Copestick

Detritus Of The Drunken Night is Ian Lewis Copestick‘s first poetry collection and it’s a belter. Love, life, loneliness, death and  debt are only some themes of this marvellous collection. Gritty but never grim these are heartfelt and razor- sharp slices of life. Detritus Of The Drunken Night is published by Cajun Mutt Press and is…

Poetry: Outside The Burnt Out Notre Dame by Ian Copestick

I saw on the TV news, as they were reporting From outside the burnt out Notre Dame That it has stood there for 850 years. All the way back to the 12th Century. It really made me think, all of the changes That have happened in that time, the cathedral Stood there witnessing it all….

Poetry: 3 From K W Peery

BLOODY MARYS WITH FREDDIE   In the mother of pearl refraction from Freddie King’s semi hollow body fretboard You could see every metal pick scar the Texas Cannonball made with his crooked ‘n calloused index finger Just slow sellin’ it center stage – Inside that Bloody Mary haze – With a tone so honest it…

Poetry: Sunday Evenings by Ian Copestick

The leaves are appearing on the trees The daffodils sway in the breeze It’s a dull Sunday evening in spring What is happening ? Absolutely nothing ! The sky is a mixture of grey and blue As if it can’t make it’s mind up what to do It feels like the whole world is having…

Poetry: My Theology by Ian Copestick

As I walk the streets, my aches Remind me that I’m passing middle age The wear and tear the body takes This skin, bone and muscle cage That we work so hard to preserve Yet still we yearn to transcend We know there must be more than this Earth And simple death can’t be the…

Poetry: From Scratch by John Patrick Robbins

I believe I will burn down the house rather than have to clean it. Start back from scratch live in a tent drinking wine. Talking to myself like a crazy person without a care in the world. Park my car in the nearest pond. And abandon everything I own because I rather not be tied…

Poetry: Here Comes The …. by Ian Copestick

Yes, they’re coming The long days of summer The sun is shining And this weekend The clocks go forward The long sun- filled days Are on their way I love this time of year The anticipation can be Better than the real thing It’s exciting, it fills my Soul with joy Yes, I love this…

Poetry: A Safety Valve by Ian Copestick

I keep being told that people findMy poetry depressing, or grim. To me they just don’t get it. As I write these poems I get high, it takesThe sadness out of me. It’s like  lancingA boil, after I’ve finished any sadnessHas gone. I am dancing again lighterThan air. Skipping the streets a smileOn my face.If…

Poetry: Not Just Yet by Ian Copestick

It’s days like today, when you realise That all of your big, grand poetic thoughts Mean nothing, less than nothing. In the workaday world where men Are paid for using their muscles Your poetic theories don’t mean shit You’re not going to have an interview for A warehouse job where the boss Suddenly says ”…

Poetry:The Big Fight by Ian Copestick

I was re-reading ” Big Sur ” tonight And I noticed that I’m the same age As Kerouac was when he died. I’ve got to say That it scared the shit out of me. I’ve written a fraction of what he has But I guess I’ve probably drank as much Alcohol, and taken a hell…