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Finding Van Gogh In Ramsgate

The last time I had made his acquaintance was in New York

His Mountains at Saint-Rémy hangs resplendent in The Guggenheim

And I was entranced coming face to face with Vincent’s art

in frame

Vividly he depicted his visions of the world, so full of passion and energy

The memory stayed with me…

Finding a bust of Vincent in Ramsgate felt peculiarly odd

He lived in Spencer Square a...

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poetryarthumourvangogh

Sunsets

Erecting her easel
at the foot of the boardwalk
she mixes the paint
a hell-fire pink and crimson
and dips her brush to begin…

She paints
the end of all things
a voice lost to the fractured mind
the final moments of a life
a hand slipping away

She paints
farewell hospital conversations
her father’s beard as a cloud
she thins the blue paint with her tears
She colours in his eyes
L...

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grieflifedeathartpainting

a somewhat sensual vision on Margate Street : Sunday, 11th

 Soundcloud Link

      (iv) voice...
reverberating ultrasound syllables
moans...
her breath
ALL wax lyrical from her gold frond tongue
dripping maple syrup rhythm
all over
              & through me

gold rush pulsing in my veins
to the tune of a hypnotic narcotic. 
intoxication.

her tongue is an aspergillum
soaking me
from head to denim
in holy water
& my once bland arid gard...

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loveromanceAudioart

robotic trails

the same songs, the same breakfast and the same people

over and over and over and 

replace me with a bug, a computer

fill up my mug with something truer 

transform me from this hollowed shell 

who knows painful repetition all too well 

i used to be so smart 

now my bleak life craves the abstract art 

which once gave it colour 

and a nihilist, my hopeful...

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selfrecoveryartself-sabotage

Purfleet

‘Picasso’s not all he’s cracked up to be.’

He’d had a few by then, but understood

The dangers of hype and adulation

Of the spineless, unconditional kind.

We were on the last train from Fenchurch Street;

Among the massed drunks now quiet or depressed,

The air was thick with smoke and rancid ale.

At first, when he leant over to my side,

I groaned, half-expecting some hard-luc...

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art

life is beautiful

i would fall from heights
shaking Lucifer terrified
for Luna's starry skies to linger,
in a Jashar night, by your side.

floating on Chopin stroked ivory nocturnes
swimming in deep ruby pools of Pinot Noir
dancing on your flowering lips,
sweet with vanilla cigarette smoke.

life is beautiful.

phosphorus waves of purple patches
carry me from seas of stormy eyes
onto shores sanctuary ...

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lovelosssufferingartThe Smiths

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