2018, 29th December Writing
LOVE LESSON Red noise day Thank the gods Nature teaches us This mad dance Of moving target We b r e a k rules
we M a k e mischief Trees shout out Clapping loudly Spilling red joy On the silent hill Up the scudding sky… (read more)
2018, 24th December Writing
THREADS Absent one, with whom I sew stuttered Scribbles, stitched in buttons on a screen, I think you have entered my nature library; The autumn-soft leaves got ruffled Into beautiful squirly windswept patterns To blur my still-hardened horizons. It was later in the library of work, Getting my threads in order, I encounter a man called Henry. Enter Henry, his own threads trailing At his trainers, a mess of bleached hair Under a beanie, jeans royal blue and frayed.… (read more)
2018, 22nd December Writing
SLIDE OF PREJUDICE This sentence that drums And amplifies me through to bone, Locks hairline to thigh and toe,
Draws my false body floating From the lake into the surface world Is surely enough madness I can do no more; To reach down towards you Or up to them or him or theirs… (read more)
2018, 21st December Writing
TALKING WITH YOU My frame may be fragile, but it is tough; It sounds deep on the pavement as I flow to meet you. Entering, my face lights up at the table of hope, A flame flying from heels, entering hips, freed through my ears..… (read more)
2018, 18th December Writing
LIKE MY MOTHER'S FACE It still trammels my dreams, leaving you, my eight-year-old child, In that stiff, forsaken hospital bed, under the foreign watch of nurses; The ward a haunted train tunnel, their night-station a ghosted engine; Your room of hungry isolation, an abandoned, broken carriage.… (read more)
2018, 18th December Writing
ACEDIA* I watch raindrops caught in netted patterns on the window They are wintry bright faces wearing little black caps Today in the wet streaming streets it is difficult to see Who is who all hooded and shielded against the bleakness Every year this happens across the northern world A dark bonnet encases Earth like the shell of a conker Each year seeds offer up their life to the soil And there a great and erotic emptying occurs… (read more)
2018, 14th December Writing
EYE OF THE BEHOLDER Letters light up like bioluminescence Against a darkening afternoon sky; It is November, I am walking the wet world, With these tendrils of dangling words Drawing saline pools round my squinting autumn eyes. We are questioning whether a thing has inherent value in and of itself, even if it is never beheld… (read more)
2018, 11th December Writing
BOTTON LINE I do not want to steal your eyes To trail these words upon this page Or bend your ears to understand The scent with which I see the stars It's not my way to throw your mind To twist and bump to fit my flow Or fish from where your river turns To catch what's yours to make it ours… (read more)
2018, 7th December Writing
RED HERRING Scarlet scales skip around our words Like jumping flesh in a whirlpool The red herring swims to the centre Pinkening the pull of our sense We are drawn to its pungent scent Like moistened dogs' noses This does not really weigh up Something about its smell is false… (read more)
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