he loves a stripey woman:

criss-cross pinkness  

ridged in parts,

running riptide on the skin of

a sinner full of scars

she loves a man of god who

kisses ribbons telling tales,

in faded brutal pale, of

a history containing all the

counting of the blessings by the strip

he traces the beginning mark:

a scar that’s warm and wet bu...

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Playground names that don’t break bones

but lodge beneath the skin

Teenage taunts that build a wall and

haunt the life still to be lived     

Endlessly repeated unless we break the loop

Malintent, working torment, war of words

and power games, 9-5 hostility

Cunning insult greased by wine, each line etched

with fear and fright o...

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i finished my bible today

finished revelations

i’m waiting for the lord to come

cos i’m an idolayter

and sexually immoral

but not so much a dog

i’m waiting for the wrath to fall

with gog and mr gog

magog?! magog!  my kingdom for magog

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due to be published in Looseleaf Tea

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Withdraw

Recharge

No need to respond

No talking

No noise

Just silence

Purity found in clear blue air

Sunshine on freckles and wind in my hair

Blocking out

Blanketing

Breathing in deep

Clinging to emptiness

Found on the brink

To talk is to torture

You butcher my peace

Chatter incessantly

Shattering harmony

Feckless i...

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A home-made tattoo wrapped up in a scroll

(not of honey and milk, but indian ink)

saw 50 summers, but winters no more.

A cooling board smoothes away pain.

An epithet formerly scrawled upon walls;

a roughly-inked alias on a right wrist

provided the title required to assist in

identification of you.

I will search for your words in your final abode...

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This is the beginning,

the birth;

in fast/slow motion,

the start of your new amour.

A loving for your all;

devotion, just for you.

In the day before today,

in the day after tomorrow,

in the core of all your sorrow,

my mind will walk with yours.

In the light of your depth,

in the face of your strength,

in the reach of your k...

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So you working class who slag the youth

out on the streets to fight and loot –

you despise the underclass,

but don’t you know from where they came?

From our backyards, in Thatcher’s reign

She fractured our  communities

“No such thing as society”

Took away identity

Took away our pride

Took away cohesion

Broke the miner’s strike

Broke ...

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She said that I looked Irish, as we sat and warmed our hands

Beating djembe herding us to sway and stamp and clap

I looked across and through the flames

That sighed and licked up over logs

Into her eyes, in all their eyes

The light: not fading, changed

Scarlet ribbons curling around

Stripes of orange a...

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Crisp within her vase

Dead red roses on display

Fragile in the light

Lack of sickly scent

Seeing beauty in decay

Brittleness deflects

Look but do not touch

Your fingers are forbidden

Petals turn to dust

Floral deviance

Delighting in senescence

Ring of rosy death

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We pour wine to keep us warm

To soak us in a sense

of que sera sera

Balm to soothe the sadness

Glass of ruby calm

To dampen down the fire        

To blur the jagged edge

I see tears traversing tracks

On the faces of the fallen

Little beads of anguish

Saturating skin

Moistening and cooling

sore and open wounds

Knowing consolat...

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Involuntary musical imagery is invading the space in my brain

On compulsive repeat, musical memes are putting my head under strain

Earworm is humming the tune of the day - it’s a song from an old TV show

Not something I’ve heard for about 30 years, it’s the start of Hawaii Five-O

In times of high stress, the most pestering chorus is destined to play on re...

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Littered with dirty knickers surrounding the small single bed

Emulsified woodchip, singular layer, outlines the shape of the head

Snagged flannelette, stained cotton sheets; quills in the quilt hypodermically sharp

Secretions are smeared on the nest of this bedding; trails of tears are quickly absorbed

Borderland door is daubed in hot red, black marker pe...

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The seed awakens

Watery light springboards life

Dormancy declines

Recognition grows

Pollination of ideas

Yields a bumper crop

Recognition slows

Fields of creativity

Decay, fall fallow

Dormancy begins

Hibernate ideas so they

Survive to revive

Cycle round again

Chain of life is circular

Season is complete?

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