Lonely windows for the imaginary friend
The unicorn lost his way with the geography teacher
One mind with but two disparate thoughts.
Imaginary friends have feelings too.
I only exist when you think about me
What was it the geography teacher did?
A true friend knows life returns
Am I real or a figment of my imagination?
Ming vase found the small way...
Monday 21st June 2021 12:54 pm
If you don't know you won't know
and if you don't know that, then what do you know apart from that
according to you I am not me
An eightball car without wheels but with music
In the shadows of the city, the philosopher killed his bride
I knew the bride before she got wed he shrieked
and she smashed the DJ over the head with a bottle of 16th century single malt whiskey
Mr Motorist in red a...
Monday 12th April 2021 10:03 pm
Change rooms, change behaviour, change times.
Change partners, change parents, change poetic style.
The diary under my bed reveals truth but I still ebb away before your eyes
From the shadows she whispered,
Power proliferates, changing buses, changing lives,
Running away from somebody else’s husband
Profiteroles? I love profiteroles said Chaucer but I can't spell it.
Asking myself wha...
Tuesday 9th March 2021 1:07 pm
Out of the land came beauty
and a beautiful headache
School of madness, replete with cat
Love from within me
Dancing within yourself
Several days later
Transient to your ways of love
in this hidden place,
the darkness you thought would protect you,
but the light remains in my mine
Dance it out in post-Covid Strasbourg
with Nietzsche and Jung
We return to the streets,
Tuesday 28th July 2020 9:58 pm
Nigel was right of course
straight out of the other side
walking across the zebra lane
on that promenade
the treachery of Facebook.
The Green Man is sleeping until winter
but spring rain will awaken him next year,
haunted by the repetition
it was a day like this
when she was a tree
and he wore her like a cloak
When she was smoke
clinging to a death bed,
no wasted anger arra...
Monday 8th June 2020 11:14 pm
Overtaken by cyclists heading into sunrise in your dreams
Broke grains on Monday, counting red angels
Drunk on darkness smiling on the shadows
A phone call only a shadow away from your fingertips
We are the survivors stunned, in Stockport
Digging deeper, reflective
Talking to the walls
Church bells toll for every day without a death
We are the poets leaving our words open...
Thursday 30th April 2020 10:02 pm
At least 80
If I see tomorrow
I shall see the sunrise
The settlements were fragile,
Yet at the same time, strong
A descent into madness –
Resurfacing at Thursday Club
I’m always happy to stop for a hitchhiker
Over the years I’ve had
Elvis Presley and Lord Lucan as passengers
But everyone thinks I’m lying
Slender Man, Enderman, carrying things,...
Tuesday 15th October 2019 10:41 am
Hypnotic Methodist Tingling
A sea of souls awaiting slaughter for freedom
Mermaid, just say no
On a darksome day we skipped to death
Marked by a felt-tipped pen
There is sadness, but not without hope
Samuel Bamford is protesting
In Hong Kong
Filming on his smart phone, filming,
Sharing, filming, sharing. Hoping it
Won’t be edited out, won’t be his ...
Tuesday 13th August 2019 6:50 am
Silence, echoes, look at the colours
And Distant Distractions
Minks and stoles all of this reminds me of you
Silver hunter's knife
Overseer left mute
Soiled aliens desperate in Heaton Moor
Park stumble on a Mel
Inside the man bag, inside the wardrobe
Inside the mind, a voice, a naked voice
Lost in the wardrobe, he looked for
Monday 11th March 2019 10:16 pm
Fidel Castro let go of the bed
His broken record bucks with static
Blame blame blame the
P.E. teacher who made my
The earth is burning, the earth is burning
May as well spend the weekend on Blackpool Sands
Love beats abortion, irony beats stupidity
Swirling around in a stark blood red orange
Lost in a made-up history of calming fire-pit ale
Monday 13th August 2018 10:23 pm
Aqueous humour's not very funny
Neither is how easily we forget
The story of each other's pain
Arranged marriages of spirits and the
remnants of deep pain
The sky is a plush blue velvet
Its papery clouds are upon it
As if they are lace - the
Dew glistens on the grass
Like numerous bright eyes looking
Up at the sky
The wrong arrangement can be d...
Monday 9th July 2018 10:34 pm
Poetry in unusual places
Yarn-bombing red as a spaniel
Line of poetry clutters in clusters
Faeries and Diddymen, aliens and witches
We transcend to rainbows when we die
Cold coffee cup clocks stuck at half-past six
The witch her face disfigured
Better methinks burnt at stake.
Lost in the past watching swallows flying north in spring
Swallows in blue s...
Monday 19th March 2018 10:06 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
Birds in their time
Snatched by roaring winds
To dream of whatever is there
In the shadow is a haunted face
As another lies awake waiting now
Water, rising, frogs, fish, fins, brushing
The legs as they passed by
The hazy days of summer
And all that racket
From next door
Wish I could sleep!
To dream is to sleep
To sleep is to dream
Tuesday 10th October 2017 11:14 am
Sand to page to gentle water
Grey on grey you greasepaint dogs
Cold spirits recorded: lists of names
Swans are swathed in chiffon
Whilst bombs kill buildings:
The art of war
Casked in delights
Of stale Big Mac meals
I don't like bringing religion
Into this but Jesus said to the sick
'Take up your beds and walk!' Well I say
'Put down your blades and talk!'...
Tuesday 15th November 2016 6:34 pm
Jesus went for a rather long walk
Through magpie faeces to the slaughterhouse
In the stench of hate
Hanging with religious gangrene
Cushioned in silent landscapes
Immersed silently with broken hope
Put away like broken dishes
A poetic riddle told what it could be,
Branches creaking like hands clapping
To the answer given.
Monday 8th February 2016 10:10 pm
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
Crimson dust for a forgotten man,
The nuances of place emerge
All of us are wearing lace-up shoes
In this we are the same,
And other ways
That are hidden.
In screaming, panicked pain swells
Help may be
The only thing I can offer,
As well as my ear
And my time.
Bleeding the sky with your cosmic clouds
That shelter my dark matter
Monday 13th July 2015 10:05 pm
Stockport town is upside down
Blue skies, regret for the river that was
I caught your cobble-stones with conviction
Voices from the youth skimming across the waters
Love is underfoot, under wet sand
Throw stones at the past; take care of the present; enjoy a future.
Red streaks blurring wistful meanderings
Lose yourself in the labyrinthine city
Monday 8th June 2015 11:09 pm
Three two one and the bullets are all gone.
Sunday 15th March 2015 10:32 am
Intact, these children dance and sing
Forward and back.
Forget hatred; make love,
but don't whore
Don't tell me the truth
Or look at the meanings
In between words
Summer is a salad of water
People of all kinds
too many to remember -
I see new words in new directions
All new faces and self-reflections
A pill to ...
Tuesday 13th January 2015 1:06 am
Herded in trains, peripheral memories,
feelings frozen under violent suns
frizzled out across the weekend:
tuna and chips, beer in the square.
The will of one person
gets power from many;
The loudest of actions
hide behind a silent will.
Sometimes I forget to get some
try not to be stupid and don't laugh
truth too painful to hear
Better the cracks of...
Tuesday 10th June 2014 7:06 am
Fun by numbers; birds loom, weather threatens.
The naked jogger eyes the eagle's wings.
Walking on egg-shells
Breaks me up
Senses erotic with words
And the ghost of memory writes his name
You do it to make the story work.
Wednesday 18th July 2012 9:37 am