Poetry Blogs (2011, relationships)

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Domestic Violence


Domestic Violence



The problem of domestic violence in UK households is a contentious issue. Everyone seems keen to point fingers and lay blame on one another without really addressing the issue. It has been prevalent in UK society for centuries, and is unlikely to go away overnight. Women, have for centuries been placed under the dominance of males, and only during the ear...

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relationshipsSocial Observations

Husband for sale on Ebay


For immediate sale, starting 1.99,
a young white male, firm but kind
a piss poor cook but a wizard at fixing
all sorts, there's no reserve upon this listing
You can 'Buy It Now' if such is your wish
forget that he's never washed a dish
or dried one in his entire life
so laments his long-suffering wife.
No ties, or pets, or kids or debts,
make a pu...

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humourmodern liferelationships

The Stuff of Life

My daughter revises chemistry,

with a little help from brother.

(our family expert on such things)

whilst I listen on,

baffled by the formulas and names

the purpose of it all,

like a freshwater fish

all at sea with the brine

I need to be heard,

to matter amongst the matter,

add weight to the atoms of this foreign world.

‘What is the stuff of life?’ I ...

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My book Air of Fall

Have a look at my book and any feedback appreciated , had a problem with the link but if you go to www.lulu.com and search air of fall will see it immediately

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Something Old, Something New

entry picture

You send me back my wedding dress

20 years too late…

wrapped not in finest tissue

confetti tumbling from its folds

nor draped across a lover’s arms

regret pressed to every empty seam

not folded at all

but jammed like stinking gym shorts

into this case, too small

compressed, flattened

obligatory bow adrift

sad reminder of all that was.


An ivo...

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Upon Disappearing

I’m not quite sure

when it was I disappeared

the precise moment, minute, hour

I only know that one day

it happened

I ceased to exist

to count,

to matter,

to be.


Nobody told me so,

the milkman still knocked,

neighbours still smiled,

kettles still boiled,

and children still cried,

but somewhere, somehow

someone flicked a switch


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Another third person relationship poem; as yet untitled

You’d best shoot the messenger

if you like flowers in clear plastic coats,

or sugary hearts. This story contains

bleeding, dripping engine parts  and gears

repaired by an English mechanic in May.


He has a thick tongue and something

big to say. And it’s bound to be tricky.

Today, he’s bending his will around;

bullying it to get this great lump

past his t...

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