Why. Poem. Sonnet. David J Delaney.


New morning sun brings forth her warming rays

while dying leaves drift gently to the ground.

Approaching winter soon will dampen days,

when ice will hang from barren trees abound.

Korea’s changing beauty I have seen,

penned every scene for all the world to read.

I miss so much your sparkling eyes of green,

while for your love, my heart again will bleed.


The freezing snow will cover all that lives

I hope I will survive this daily fight.

A priest once said that Jesus Christ forgives,

though what I do, he could not see as right.

My helmet sits upon my weary head ─

My rifle, now replaces pencil lead.


For my Uncle, Lawrence George Delaney, 1st Battalion RAR, who served in Korea.


Here is a short bio for you:

Now in my late 50’s I left school at 15 years old. Only 3 months after “making” grade 8 has been in many ways a drawback involving my literary goals as I only starting “writing” in late December 2007 and has been a huge learning curb for me, I am still tackling how verbs, adjectives, nouns, syllables, etc, work.

As a award winning poet, and recently a memoir/short story writer, I have had wonderful support, in Cairns , Queensland , Australia and worldwide. My love for writing and the impact it has on everyday people, has, definitely been an inspiration to continue with something I honestly enjoy, and, if I inspire one person to write and or showcase their work, then I have done my job. 

David J Delaney
Internationally published Australian Poet.




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Pimp Shoes. Poem. Sonnet. Phillip Fried.



Did I mean to stalk the streets in cothurni? Shit, no.
I just failed to foresee the precarious vaudeville wobble
as the head with its chorus surveys what’s unsteady below,
its kibitzing voices tsk-tsking a double hobble

(another fine mess chalked up to clueless hubris),
hands groping for balance but looking as if I would break
into patter-song: oh hamartia, convivial riff.
And a fool might truly say, he’s a dupe of the Fate

that dogs the consumer, scammed with apotheosis
and the heady allure of a glowing ocher toe cap.
But watch me teeter in glory, a pimp Oedipus,
eyes level with second-floor shops for Pedi-Mani.

Elevation was my downfall, catastrophe
my rise. And my marrow’s red honey—fear, pity.



“Pimp Shoes” by Philip Fried was published in Cohort [Salmon Poetry, Ireland, 2009.


Philip Fried (1945― ), earned a B.A. in English at Antioch College, an M.F.A. in Poetry at the Writers Workshop, University of Iowa, and a Ph.D. in Literature at the State University of New York, Stony Brook. On writing sonnets, he has this to say, “I draw inspiration from the sonnet’s origins to update it for the Digital Age. Linked from its earliest days to legal proceedings and a modern psychology of conflicted love, the sonnet held together what wanted to fly apart. I have re-conceived the contemporary sonnet as an arena where fragments of self and samples of lingo play off against one another.” His poems have appeared in such journals as Beloit Poetry Journal, New Orleans Review, Partisan Review, Paris Review and Tin House. The most recent of his five published books of poetry is Early/Late: New and Selected Poems (Salmon Poetry, Ireland, 2011), which was called “skillful and memorable” by Publishers Weekly.


This sonnet is pre-published with the permission of the Editor-in-chief from:Richard Vallance, editor-in-chief. The Phoenix Rising from the Ashes: Anthology of sonnets of the early third millennium = Le Phénix renaissant de ses cendres : Anthologie de sonnets au début du troisième millénaire. Friesen Presse, Victoria, B.C., Canada. © 2013. approx. 240 pp. ISBN Hardcover: 978-1-4602-1700-9 Price: $28.00 Paperback: 978-1-4602-1701-6 Price: $18.00 e-Book: 978-1-4602-1702-3 Price: TBA


300 sonnets & ghazals in English, French, Spanish, German, Chinese & Persian. Selected sonnets are pre-published by our permission in Poetry Life & Times (UK) which has exclusive sole rights prior to the publication of the anthology itself. Readers may also contact Richard Vallance, Editor-in-Chief, at: vallance22@gmx.com for further information. http://vallance22.hpage.com/






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‘A Busy City…’ Poem. Scott Hastie.


A busy city,

Far from home.




The teeming crowd,

A tsunami of sorts.


And as you walk on into the melee,

As it comes to you,

For the briefest, sweetest of moments

To catch the eye,

To share a smile,

To touch the soul of a stranger

You may never see again.


This is as it should be.


The often cavernously empty

Business of life will always

Occasionally be overwhelmed by truth.

For the restless soul hungers for such moorings,

Such absolute points of recognition

Gifted by love,

By light shared with others.


But such chances come and go so suddenly

That what was once so recent, so vivid

Already seems so distant and long ago.


What then,

If not still true to your heart?


Only swamped I fear.

Lost on a surging tide,

Swept back to faceless oblivion,

To the ruin of indifference to start again…


© Scott Hastie 2012. All rights reserved.


 I am a full-time writer and poet, based in the UK– fortunate enough to be living and working in tranquil surroundings of the English countryside, some twenty miles north of London.

 My poetry looks to positively explore human potential, with an emphasis on love, spiritual growth and self awareness. It is very important to me that my work remains as open, accessible and as simply expressed as possible. My influences vary from the great traditional English visionary romantics through to the distillation of thought and leanness of expression offered by the Japanese haiku tradition and later technical breakthroughs achieved by leading Scottish concrete poets, Ian Hamilton Finlay and Edwin Morgan.


Sparkling new poems & images at www.scotthastie.com




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