PoetryVerse - the poem and the meaning

Moonraker

Our Downstirs Loo Published: October 14, 2026

Loos are handy if you need a place to pee, If you get court short, they are grate in an emergency. A facility and a place to think and to be quite frank, What you’ve eat a while ago is flushed into a Septic tank. Our loo is an anomaly and should be out of order, As you flush your poo away, there comes an unpleasant Oder. It burbles up the sink pipe and then you get the smell, When what you sniff will turn you green and make you run like hell. A loo it has a job to do, to facilitate and to cater, To accommodate and to be on hand upon the Call

One Blue Jockey

Amibitons Published: October 14, 2026

Do you have enough money? I get by. Will you get a place to live at? No I cannot. What are your amibitons? A flat for my children. Do you have enough food? I am strong enough to work. Is your mental health okay? I am strong enough to work. What do you do in your free time? I take care of my children. How many hours a night do you sleep? More than three when I can. And are you happy?

Mikhail Moonasar

FIELDS OF GOLD Published: October 13, 2026

There are some people who walk into your life like they were always meant to be there, and then they vanish like they were never real at all. That is what happened to Julian. He was forty-two years old, tired of the world, tired of himself, driving down an old dirt road with no destination in mind. The kind of road that kicks up dust and leads nowhere in particular. The sun was hanging low, casting long shadows across the open fields. Then he saw her. A woman on a white horse, riding through fields of golden grass that swayed like waves in the

Mark Dicks

A Role I Know by Heart Published: October 08, 2026

One step further. That's all it takes, a step. But towards where? Into my heart, or into my mind? Or into the life of someone I've yet to understand? I'm never sure which way to go, yet always know which way works. A whisper here, a fleeting touch, and suddenly, I'm bound to her soul. But why does my end of the string grow duller with every pull? The words come easy, their weight, less so. I speak as though I mean them, and convince myself I do, until- Every movement feels rehearsed, every feeling, a familiar line. I've played this part so

Aldo Kraas

Another day bite the dust Published: October 28, 2025

Another day bite the dust Because my father brought down the Sun And I saw the sunset It was beautiful To my naked eyes Now my father brought Us the night It was my time to go to sleep I took my meds and Went to sleep I was already exhausted Yes I hope I have a good night sleep Yes the night is long And it has 24 hours Tomorrow I will be up Early And I will pray for my Father First thing In the morning

Vrab

La Fontaine Published: August 09, 2026

La Fontaine wrote his fables late at night, long after the world had dimmed its light; so he cannot claim the credit alone - his wife deserves some praise of her own. For had she kept herself busy with women’s affairs, he’d never have written of crickets and ants. Had she but focused on him for a moment then, La Fontaine would have written quite differently, amen.