Poetry Blogs (Collage)
Cheshire housewife buys her Hereafter Insurance,
Works hard for nativity with port and gin
Our truth is, success means excess.
Then lies were common in family life
Waiting, hiding, broken, when when true
As your eyes sparkle through Mona Lisa smiles
And lies of untruth spoken words
Housewife with her gin
And tonic gives Santa a good
Tuesday 13th November 2018 10:15 am
Good food side by side,
Poems two by two,
Just walk, walk my friend to the Joy,
From the darkness, walk now to your summer.
Hera disbelieving Zeus kicks
Him between the legs. He smiles
Surprised by joy
And my lover said to me
Walk to the door of joy
And well come me
Revisiting revenge underneath pie trucks
Like a rampant ground hog day
Funny and r...
Tuesday 15th May 2018 7:52 am
Thread-bear walks away, brave and curious
Travelling down a road
Knowing nothing about time and space
Happiness of the hangman, as
the Death Row fly is executed.
Silken threads, falling heart strings
There is death in crowns and crones, in the tender air
We are always cutting threads - or weaving them.
I slipped on folded paper that has more than pa...
Tuesday 10th April 2018 12:39 pm
Various forms, jump into sestinas
with withering winds and eager ancestors
A room with no windows shakes and rattles
It holds inside a madman singing of
From man back to monkey
With a wave of Mr Wizard's Wand
That cruel hateful yellow star
Kissing chaos: my man is not ill
Tasting the salt, feeling the bullets
He disappointed his ancestors,
Tuesday 13th February 2018 11:42 am
Dave left to stab an unwary autistic
The loneliness of sand.
The man with the photo left
Leaving small details which invoke a hidden world.
Freeing slaves from hidden bondage
Pandora had a lot to answer for
Sand in my toes
Sand in my boots sinking in rotten socks
Memories of Mumbai with my daughter,
Waiting for the monsoon
Tuesday 15th August 2017 9:23 am
Blue enchantment, starlight pallette
Nazi visions of underworld clowns
An evening of art, newborns, and profanity
The clown is still king.
The bubbling, squeaking sound rising
Shaking in a frantic situation
Blood swept under a script
I saw the fox and he saw me
Creatives of the underworld
Bleed out onto the page, voice rage
We sit in a kaleidoscopic wom...
Monday 20th March 2017 11:12 pm
Lost in transition
Your words carried like a brief encounter
Emotion is the monster hiding outside the walls
Gangreen in suburbia and skinned alive
With donkey ears! Good Gods!
Occupations occupy stations on the wall
Barrymore paints the myths of time
To hang in Manchester as a quiet man
Tells of lost love.
Sonnets to art leave us lost
Tuesday 14th February 2017 12:20 am
Breeze of loss blows
an Autumn anomaly
To those who don't like jazz
please have a change of heart
Piercing my eyes like sharpened glass
a salty boy stands in dark shadows
It's like watching paint dry
I am ready to like jazz
Let's ask Matt and Phred - Is jazz dead?
The paintings cost more than you think
Ready to open another door
Sunday 20th September 2015 12:20 pm