The Globe Inn


56 High St, Dumfries DG1 2JA, UK


Down an alley
called a “close”
not much wider
than a crack
in a wall,
they say this pub
was frequented
by Robert Burns
two hundred years ago.

Rough hewn walls
painted white
in a failed attempt
to brighten a room
built long before
parking was a thing.

Flat screen televisions
and laminated menus,
the business
they’ve gained
over the centuries
has more than paid any tab
left by the Bard of Ayrshire,
who is taking selfies
there in the corner
with adoring female fans
like my great grandmother
in a mini skirt
and belly button ring.

But the best part of supper
was discovering
that I enjoy haggis.

Contributed by: Bartholomew Barker, one of the organizers of Living Poetry, a collection of poets and poetry readers in the Triangle region of North Carolina. His first poetry collection, Wednesday

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Leather but no lace.

Tall windows looked down upon us

Standing in the yard of that concrete prison

Warders watching our every move

Fear was all we knew

We were condemned for 7 years

Once we passed through those crested gates

Blame can’t be cast on anyone

Only those who wielded power

Some were suited (clothed) for the daily ritual

Others, dressed in black robes

Ruled with fists of iron

We were just 9 year old children

Expecting an education…

(c) Chris Black 2017.



Celebrating International Women’s Day with poem, prompt and Peace Action celebration (San Mateo, CA)

Jamie Dedes' THE POET BY DAY Webzine

Listen Child

I read a poem today and decided
I must deed it to some lost, lonely
fatherless child… to brace her
along her stony path …

Listen child, don’t forsake
your aspirations or buy the social OS
Just let this poem play you like a
musician her viola, reframing lonely
into solitude and sanctity
Let it wash you like the spray of whales
Let it drench your body in the music
of your soul, singing pure prana into
the marrow and margins of your life
Let your shaman soul name your muse
Discover the amethyst bliss of words
woven from strands of your own DNA

Yes! I read a poem today and decided
I must deed it to a lost fatherless child

© 2011, poem and photograph, Jamie Dedes All rights reserved


As we celebrate International Women’s Day and our own lives, the lives of the…

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They pass me by …………..

jpoet7/Joseph Black Photography

The hidden people

( they pass me by, heads bowed low )

How quickly life it turns and churns

That sparkling ember quickly burns.

A furrowed frown upon your face

The twinkling smile it does replace.

While standing in still waters safe

A sudden wave your dreams embrace.

Life’s journey turned from joy to sorrow

Quickly dread a new tomorrow.

There are moments, make you smile

Little things make life worthwhile.

The laughter of the child within

A young boys happy, silly grin.

Life passes by without a care

Too busy for to troubles share.

Sounds of life keep rumbling by

To some it’s pie up in the sky.


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