Contributors from Australia, Austria, Canada, England, France, Germany, Greece, Hungary, India, Ireland, Israel, Italy, Mexico, Netherlands, New Zealand, Palestine, Poland, Puerto Rico, Romania, Russia, Scotland, Serbia, South Africa, Spain, Sweden, Syria, Tasmania, Tunisia, Ukraine, USA, Wales, Zimbabwe
3,203,720
visitors since 2007
oppositional poetry, prose, polemic

Bernard Saint
Petronius
Petronius ‘the arbiter of elegance’?
Fastidious throughout a long career
It took three days and nights -
The binding and unbinding of his wounds
In that official suicide
Nero had decreed without due foresight
His victim would obey ‘between the lines’ -
He had so many friends
The flow of blood was halted
To greet them and renew their bowls of wine
The festive awnings and the seafood buffet
The lavish tales of travel and amusement
Time flew by
We thought it was his birthday
An Urban Myth
The ‘Ghost Bus of Notting Hill’
Is a phantom Number Seven
Fully lit the Night Bus
Driverless Conductorless
No apparent passengers aboard -
Some claim to have seen it in full sail
On Ladbroke Grove on Westbourne Grove
It did not stop for them
One night when you are heading home
Euphoric and a trifle stoned
Justifying to yourself
Some small illicit ‘fling’
Perhaps it will stop for you
Café In The Quarter
‘A blonde and beardless merchant in Harar?
I doubt it is your man…
This Rimbaud is a perfect gent
He does not drink arak nor take majoun
No kif pouch does the round when he meets here
Those hired hands assisting in his trade
Who say he can’t be French because
He never visits brothels
And pays their wage on time -
The sum agreed and sometimes with a bonus -
If they are sick or injured in his work
He sends to pay the doctor for a nurse
I think he’s what is called ‘a natural Moslem’
All in all
He won’t last long out here’
Bernard Saint © 2020
A ‘House’
‘That Memento Mori over there -
Ancient gent with leopard spots
For hands and still
A flower in his lapel?
Be kind to him
He tips more than he pays
To girls who may remind him
Once he was the lover of…
Yes…of Ballet Russe
So keep your wits about you
On your toes
And fly
Don’t ask me!
This world is full
Of novelties surprises
Love conundrums’
Marcus Aurelius Arrested
‘Hubris brings a swift descent
Neither must we seek
Our residence resumed within the womb
Life is a line so few can walk
I was stopped and breathalysed for being sober
While self-intoxicated crowds
Foamed at their mouths to yap inconsequentially!
My lawyer gods are otherwise engaged -
Delayed upon their golf course
So for a while this ‘jail’ may just suffice -
Get your head down sonny Sleep it off’
Bernard Saint © 2020