Here it is - recorded by the lovely Joy France at the Tudor crimbo party last Thursday! For some reason, it won't work from the blog entry but it will on the Comments box! Meh. See below :)

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One of the scribes was taken tonight.

One of the seers, one of our own.

One of the prophets will write no more lines

in radical rhymes

nor preach them to people like us.

He struggled against his emptying days,

though yearned for contentment and calm.

Thought he had lost that angry young man,

but McGarrigle – words never die;

they’re beyond a stillness of pulse.

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Summer daze,

drifting into falling gold

to finish.

We put away our home from home

of orange-brown acrylic,

leaving debris tucked in pockets.

Bottle-tops and old lip balms;

dirty skins and baccy strands;

ciggy filters; bits of grass;

fairy dust and magic eyes;

sugar made of salt.

Litter from the happy hours  

and many fields we danced in

under dark and di...

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Part 1

Thought I’d pay a visit to a place that kept me sane during trying years of living as a child.  My latest craze, Ray Bradbury, was draining me of funds and I could not afford to buy him any more. It was then that I recalled a special place.  The library, that library, my Xanadu from childhood; where I grew up, my special little haven from the world.

How precious it was.  Th...

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Late September, summershine,

fifty thousand pair of feet

hit the streets of Manchester;

Assembly of the People

come to call on Cameron.

Come to cry, come to shout,

from Inverness to Somerset.

Fifty thousand mouths assault

the air in Oxford Road,

to stop the cuts today, to say

We did not give permission to sell the Welfare State.

The ...

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The following story was related to me by a poet, in the autumn of the year 2013.  The poet had retired to bed after partaking of herbal tea and cigarettes, from the effects of which she fell asleep, just as she was contemplating the opening lines from Kubla Khan.

The poet remained in a deep sleep until awoken by the radio alarm clock, at which point she began to experience the most vi...

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Published on Poetry24

http://poetry-24.blogspot.co.uk/2013/08/upgrade.html

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Published on Poetry24

http://poetry-24.blogspot.co.uk/2013/07/regal-potential.html

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Published on Poetry24

http://poetry-24.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/dear-margaret.html

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Synaesthetic symphony

plays out behind the drapes      

as a figure becomes realised;

each line and tone to form, compose,

a mirroring in real eyes,

a lesson in anatomy

Energies of form release to

represent a vertebrae

Fit chin to floor, rib to eye

Geometric nipple

planes to ankle

by degrees

Pelvic make up, breast and buttock,

brushed in...

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Published on Poetry24

http://poetry-24.blogspot.co.uk/2013/02/jacks-alright_25.html

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Published on Halfway Down The Stairs

http://www.halfwaydownthestairs.net/index.php?action=view&id=429

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Electric Blue, you held them fast;

calmed and healed a tribal mind,

then pulled a string so taut

it snapped,

stuck out,

sucked back,

then stole their breath

with lyrical intensity;

poured scorn on ideology -

your signs designed to blow the lies away.

Electric Blue, you strummed so hard

your nails wore down to fingerprints,

then p...

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