Jana

2008 wasn't finished with me, not after that screening, my partner Sandra G, the photographer of breasts, unashamed melanoma dreams, is up for a festival, what should have been, dazzling different by the sea, has to fit her chemotherapy, howling down the 'phone, raging in midstream, she shouts through her bones, poets don't die intestate, swept away like leaves, sometimes they dance and stay, she still dances on knowing how i feel, still the only one, laughing at the seams.

Jolee

Smoking a cigarette, a lover's old face appears, fulsome not lonely yet, geese rise and sail, haunt the sky like deer, i knew her in jail, a snow blanket around me, she always cheered, ice blue as the sea, colours of the Argentine, not anyone could go near, where she had been, absorb the certain dread, that brought her here, a place safe to tread, a woman who loved, blew flame across fear, shared jokes in the dust, then disappeared.

Jayleen

We stand by unlit lamps, a tree, a bridge, shaking, waiting like tramps, for kindness to share, red lips white faced, cigarettes without care, listening to that song, wine sipped and champagne, who needs to belong, the cleave of crowded bars, cargo ships and freighters, rooms with dark marks, we can be happy here, watching the rain, tack down the naked café’ you would not hear me, say straighten out our game, ask how much we pay, shuffle what remains.

Idell

What if the stars are great, my daughter slowly fades, lonely and in pain, doesn't matter what drugs she takes, the walls are still grey, in her cell she hesitates, listens to the clock, on yellow wing what’s to say, her phone is still blocked, her kids have done screaming, confined within their days, lilac as the evening, they see the creep of moon, watch time roll away, I’ve seen them happy, laugh on school mornings, since she’s been away, but they visit 5 and eight, and each night pray.

Illustria

Here's something for you, if you think you come first, with all your places to go, you’re not enough born, to rage against thirst, when summer gets torn, the sea still surrounds you, have you time for mirth, home’s not a clue, by book or by 'phone, your trail well versed, to know you'll be going, will you try this evening, drive away swearing, pass a naked cafe' to where all debt is burst, salt and stars like glue, blown in the easy air your eyes dead blue.

Isabella

In days of autumn fire, night rides black and cold, stars come out like ice, no matter what we sing, the wind is fierce and bold, it knows which bells to ring, the love of dreaming, if we're not at home, a flame across the sea, our love calls frequently, on mobile ‘phones, no lack of scheming, absence replaces fear, tells us we're not alone, no matter what we think, in the yellow evening, you appear atoned, a name for everything, written on a board.

Irene

Who do you want to suffer more me or your blessed lover outside the cafe' Du Coursse it’s a perfect sunny evening kids looked after by mothers is your love done by keeping as if you know better in life between the covers to get rid of evidence you think you’re clever wiser than the others in the cotton jet set Ray Bans on the terrace September withers another burning furnace drink whisky with a soda evening's sour ball colour a breeze comes from somewhere will you close the shutters

Holly

My own breakfast test feel a lover's trauma don't i feel blessed sailing as we speak with a raging lymphoma all her troubles leak howl like the wind complaints amorphous a drowning sound that sinks like lead a real performance pictures in my head jukebox in the kitchen everything roars seeks wine at 8 am like she’s never been born chocolate with toast operate another form act the holy one.

Hera

If its children and dogs just be what you are in a warm hazy fog that's what you want from the river Alt sea roses in your font but help me realise what's going on in someone else's dreams close to here pictures bear a lonely scar for all my needs dancing on egg shells fires everywhere marked by your iron bell plant a seed bring me what i want time at least beneath a fading star

Hannah

Paintings are my scene museums have a lonely grace hearing screams I stare out of canvas that's really my fame the world my caravan from summer nights or gas fired winter places how often do I lie heaven for you to look upon the scent of my face you are like M Duchamp who before me rushes buttered names like waves his Fountain flushes unshaven waiters bring cognac to my table orange in measured spaces my oiled frame.

Lacey May

In a spartan cafe' reclaimed from the sea let me tarry blonde or wispy dark like a coming enemy shadows make marks dawn the falling rain saddened at the infirmary echo of empty cradle doctor's sad smile more than we can ever be love gone by miles on hospital alleyways the absence of heartbeat sound of a dismal train it whistles the length of St Anthony’s quay loss brings no certainty to sorrow again

Lara - begins the broken stanza series of 250 poems going forward after Naked Lunch.

The turn of lovely days scourge her great freedom a river estuary the streets and diners awaken a sense of ease solace out of time not her real home stupid walk these yellow streets wrath of Madam Cupid where debts get paid beneath cool trees blue drinks hang on trays Our lady holds her heart in the cold light seasons whenever luck departs no matter what bell rings the river will release a sister from another city across broken seas.

Lise +10 poems down is on cunard file

Is there more to come 

your Da all scorn

does me down

trees and yellow flowers
wine and thorns

trips to country Mass

but its harvest time

you talk of New York                                                

my lucky find                                                                          

we danced with ease                              

through fields of corn                                           

in that post war scene                                    

your mother screached 

like a hurricane storm

but you were sweet                                    
as autumn dawned
we kissed at Cherbourg                            
seasons drawn                
on fine blue mornings