photo credit: jimforest divine hand via photopin (license)

I wanted to do something for NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writing Month) which starts on the 1st April, but not being the greatest joiner-in of big organised events in the  world I tend to like doing them in my own quiet way (or being awkward). What I do think would be nice though is to post a reading of different poems (one each day) and all by different poets whose poems I like and I’ve decided to do that on the Made of Sticks and Stones Facebook Page. So if you’d like to join in then click the link and like the page and we will see where the poems take us.





photo credit: Derek R Goulet Beach Bird via photopin (license)

Yesterday is not tomorrow,
Memories are not today.
All those childhood tears
Yet you are not crying now.
You survived my darling,
You survived.

And those heartfelt sighs,
Too, too many goodbyes.
Teddy bears the only lonely listeners,
And birds with broken wings.
Yet you survived my darling.
You may still fly.
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

A Moment of Indecision

White lined arrows

Offer a choice –

Offer a moment of indecision;

Before a cacophony of horns intrudes

On my reverie,

Makes up my mind.

And I turn towards the easy road.


© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.



photo credit: donnierayjones Thinking Inside the Box via photopin (license)

To the pretenders,
The make-believers,
The dresser-uppers,
The dreamers,
This goes out to you.
The singers,
The poets,
The actors,
The writers,
For making dreams come true.
Those artists
And dancers
Making it up,
Making believe it’s come true.
To everyone out there, thank you.
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.


A powerfully created image that gets to the heart of the matter.

hands in the garden


chasing the click
of a crippled heart

for many grey years

aspiring to fix
its mangled, old parts

still rust in the gears

© Anthony Gorman 2017


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Sacred or Scared


photo credit: bassak1 Cherry Blossom Ending via photopin (license)

Blossom white, blowing
On the breeze.
Vernal equinox
Gives hope of longer days

And no more darkness for me and you.
Winter frosts give way to morning dews
And blossom blowing like confetti butterflies
Caught in winds of change
And what maybes. Sacred possibilities.
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.



photo credit: The Manic Macrographer Reigning blood and chrome – HSS! via photopin (license)

Ripples and entropy,
And rumours unheard
While the liars stir.
Are the lips for kissing
Or the hope I cannot bear.

Echoes and reflections
Exhaled into the night,
Passing notion of twilight
Gives way unto
The uncertainty of sightless dark.
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Nobody’s Home


photo credit: Karen Newman Photography Family Photos via photopin (license)

Dead foot dominion
Where corridors echo
With the sounds of corruption,
And wanton wind colludes
With the creak upon the stairs.
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

South Bank


photo credit: MartynllPhotography Looking towards the City of London via photopin (license)

Shining portals, pools of light
Let loose upon the night.
Kaleidoscope of colours
Hand-in-hand with lovers,
Breathing-in the city bright.
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.



photo credit: ShanePix Scars To Your Beautiful! via photopin (license)

I feel like a trampoline
And everybody is stepping on me.
My body in tension,
Skin tight like a drum.
And with everyone else
Bouncing high having fun,
I’m left feeling like a trampoline
Coz everyone’s stepping on me.
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.