Poetry Blogs (red)
You are the blood of life
but your wasteful spilling
also signals its dying away.
The danger you show
is like a bull's enraging rag
In shame and unease,
facially giving away
from ear to ear.
In courage, passion and confidence
you fly the hoisted flag.
Cupid's waving his two fingers
to show he can still let loose that arrow
while the devil pla...
Friday 7th June 2019 7:48 am
Angel hair and open spilling guts hideous with intestinal snakes slithering over the floor.
I have become an illusion of arrival.
To write from stillness is to seeth still deeper than the storm.
I screamed a red skinless face. Proffered my head to the world for a beheading.
To be born in outline only. I held a bawling pastry cutter.
Assay the killed stag of childhood. I am wor...
Friday 15th March 2019 2:54 pm
I can’t tell you.
But last night, you entered my chest
for play, some kind of game, like ‘Operation’
and then I couldn’t sleep
I jolted – shivered – jerked – quirked,
now my eyes don’t close
and my body is a pulse,
you tiptoed across my ribcage,
leaving foot prints enlaced by landmines,
you slept on my lungs,
short wired my arteries,
you clipped the circuits of my ...
Wednesday 27th September 2017 2:10 am
Oh, look at her standing there
On the grandest stage of them all
In those ruby red shoes
Red like her perfect cherry heart.
She hides behind a black stand
So, the world won’t see her eyes
Her eyes tell a story
Or a lost soul.
No one knows the sound of her voice
Just the sound of her instrument
Sound of melodious tunes
Tunes that bring people together
She circled the world in her red r...
Sunday 25th June 2017 5:43 am
A while ago, before I retired, I was concerned for the welfare of my students on reading a piece discussing the alleged widespread use of the psycho-stimulant Retalin by Australian university undergraduates. As a performance enhancer it was said to often be accompanied by depressants to reverse the effects. For some, it may have served as an introduction to more addictive and even more pernicious ...
Friday 27th January 2017 12:41 pm
The only person who can save me
A Random Hero wont set me free
Violets are blue
Its time for you to save you
Mentalities can't fly
Yours wont admit defeat
Not that I ever wanted you to lose
But, my grasp is still so weak
Friday 23rd December 2016 9:40 pm
Scores a line and gives a grade
In the bossiest of moments
Tells of corrections to be made
As it sits there standing bold
Or a single word might hang there dripping
While your blood runs stinging cold
Like the warming of a fire
Consuming mind and paper
While the temperature gets higher
Saturday 6th August 2016 12:22 pm
Drifting high on a gentle breeze
and grazing the tops of lofty trees,
watching below, all the people move
but there’s nothing left, up here, to prove.
Floating higher and into the clouds,
the sultry silence so deafeningly loud.
Throbbing pulse of a beating heart
as atoms pull; trying to drift apart.
Looking down upon an ailing world
with colourful rags held hig...
Monday 22nd June 2015 6:27 pm
"You'll be safe, I promise", reassured his mum.
“But its not you who’ll end up sat on your bum!”
A conversation they’d had most every week
but it didn’t make his knees feel any less weak.
“Now come along, Harry, stop messing about,
go finish your homework whilst I clean up this house.
The show doesn’t start till the end of the week
and all this chatter is making me Squeak...
Tuesday 19th May 2015 10:56 pm
Poem for Bob Crow (cheers W.H. Auden)
Stop all the docks, cut off the trains,
Start the mariners striking, be still the cranes,
Silence the busses and with muffled bullhorn
Bring out the coffin, let the workers come.
Let politicians circle, moaning overhead
confessing on the airwaves, He Is RED,
Put nooses round the white necks of the bosses,
Let the riot policemen carry their own crosses.
Saturday 22nd March 2014 7:35 pm
‘Restless Art’ and ‘Seagull Shaped’ are two bookends of a beautiful Manchester love affair that lasted just as long as it should have done, the latter due to be published in Best of Manchester Poets Volume 2 in December. The former - also about the indecision between two people - was originally called "Red", who provided much of the inspiration for the poem and, indeed, coined its eventual titl...
Sunday 6th November 2011 10:02 pm
Will humanity ever learn? Europes worst war crime since World War II brought home the fact that its not just Cambodia and distant places where massacres occur, but anywhere that there is hate.
This time the Serb units in the area were in the wrong. Courts rules the Serb state as it was and is was not responsible. Last time it was the Utasha, Skanderberg SS and...
Sunday 11th July 2010 6:50 pm
One for performing mainly, but I think it stands up alone. Part of a series.
It’s Pokémon, pimples and boils.
Being a teenager—including the sores.
It’s Spiderman, Daredevil, Rudolph and GORE
the colour of darkness when your head hits the floor.
ell-ee-dees and infra-red receptors on TVs.
It’s blame and physics watching stars burn
it’s the colour of c...
Tuesday 1st June 2010 2:15 pm