‘On one of the last days I reached out and closed my hand around your rough, scarred thumb.’
Glued to you
‘I look and sometimes see, sometimes read but mostly my eyes slide across your surface, not fully taking in what you’re saying.’
Love in a time of oceans
‘The woman took a bite out of the love of her life, and spat it out into the ocean.’
Adrift in history
‘Owning up to your lost ambition, you’re caught out again naked and in love, painted a faked shade of golden, exploded and cast into these pages.’
A shameful stride
The second of two poems about homelessness. This is merely passing comment, but click through if you’d like to contribute to fending off the crisis in homelessness, by donating to, or volunteer with, Crisis, the national charity for homeless people.
There are two
The first of two poems about homelessness. This is merely passing comment, but click through if you’d like to contribute to fending off the crisis in homelessness, by donating to, or volunteering with, Crisis, the national charity for homeless people.
On Maldon’s shore
‘Over-silted sand-filled wannabee footsteps shrouding the reeds in clouds of seaweed dust of mooring chain rust, bobbing buoys and clove-hitched up bleach blue bottles thrust out past waist deep as I stumbled passively in the shin-depths.’
Journey in sunshine
‘Outside rented flatbread bakeries: no-one working; everybody smoking; rolling up those tarmac fumes.’
Into the woods
‘How are we anchored to docks and harbours rolling on tide surfing out, pitching us in towards mud and to face departing silence?’
blackstardust
‘A gift, brilliant blue swallowed sea water gagging electricity bragging egotricity clean, falling through lines of crystallising blackstardust.’
Poem: Drown again
You drown, I drown. I push your face down, below the water line.
Poem: Framing my wilderness
Greasy tired fingerprinted window framing my great, tiny outdoors; brick peaking through bush pricking blushing bubbles of urbanity lost amidst…
Everybody’s Welcome
Normal family life making tea, seeing school reports, fleeing artillery-bombardment, civil-war persecution for nothing more than the neighbourhood you live…
Poem: Sheep’s wool
I found some sheep’s wool caught on a wire fence when I was a boy. It was coarse and musty…
Poem: Shining dark space
Oh, for the end of lies. Those days when honesty was in vogue, when we wore it all so lightly,…
Book of Pye 