Poetry Blogs (2018, Stockport Write Out Loud)
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
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