See America burning on a choking smoky white night amid the black light of raging fire
I’m sitting here feeling disgusted, watching yet another black man murdered at the hands of police.
Lockdown is ever so painful, make it end / There’s technology, so many apps to try / great what will happen next, this might extend
Of its own kind,
solo straining wings capturing clear breeze,
no higher nor lower a concept than self.
I looked at my beautiful new wings / but shuddered at my old ones / and all the dust they bring.
I wanted to take this opportunity to introduce my new short-story and poetry collection, Burn The Word.
There are roots I’ve always known which wrap around my arms, holding me deep inside the earth, breathing my breath.…
After Kaveh Akbar There is this loveable saint: He sees me in fallen down ditches, covered in bracken.
‘How do you accessorise a bomb? I’d probably go for sprinkles instead of nails’
“The thing I don’t understand,” Shirley was saying as she’d shooed his hand away from the screen, scrolling and sliding through various pages, “is that we give you people so many areas in which you can thrive, work, play, and talk to fun, interesting and creative people. So why do you feel the need to go back to the web?”
‘Do not look for my body, my wings, to do but what I make of them.’
‘We became as reliant as the ocean to the sky, as vital as the heat at the centre of the earth to the thin stem threading together green leaves.’
‘I wore a flag right down to its first and last threads.’
‘Being an artist means not averting one’s eyes – Akira Kurosawa’
‘Everything belongs to the rich; from your beating soul to your weeping heart, they bought it all many years hence.’