SEA

If a grain of salt was a little seed, What would it grow into? After one day there would be a breeze like someone blowing on your face. After two days, a drop of rippling water. After one week, a roaring wave, and floating on its furthest tip, a little ship. But the ship would be closed up like a bud with its sails tightly folded, so the wave would shake it and bounce it and swi...

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Poem of the month

IN THE POCKET OF THE WOUNDED SOLDIER

IN THE POCKET OF THE WOUNDED SOLDIER – ‘The forgotten woman is the soldier who was crucified’ (Miltos Sachtouris) in the pocket of the wounded soldier lay a handful of leaves in the pocket of the wounded soldier grew an ear full of corn an ear full of dust! an ear full of the ...

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Poem of the month

Doctor Curio

You came to this place, it was a fading wish The merest light to raise you from a certain fate The faintest option of another dawn The slightest hope of being reborn Welcome to the house of D...

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Poem of the month

SOLE MAN

He would never have been seen in trainers. Any work boots he had were kept at work. “You can tell a man’s standing by the state of his shoes.” He was a shoe fan. With black polished Oxfords and br...

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Poem of the month

I Will Survive

Sample poems from ‘The Elephant In The Corner’ (www.tall-lighthouse.co.uk) I will survive As long as I know how to love, course it’s tacky, heartbreak is a tacky, messy business and if ...

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Poem of the month

Blind Rage

See the boats coming on mass, zoom in and see only one boat, zoom in and see the men, now only one man, now see what he sees the beach up ahead, see the D-day beach, yes, now you see it. And in this...

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Poem of the month

Giving the world to Venus

Row upon row, cot upon cot and the smell, not Johnson’s baby shampoo or sweet talcum-powdered bottoms I watch the worn out, tired, hard-lifed women as they casually throw babies around, for a...

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Poem of the month

Consider This

“Men judge us by the success of our efforts. God looks at the efforts themselves” - Charlotte Brontë CONSIDER THIS I shall write in a style that may, or may not be, self explainatory. I mean...

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Poem of the month

Goodnight From Him

It’s goodnight from him And it’s goodnight to this: Saturday bathtime, a home win, The bliss Of a night in the glow Of a rented TV; A family spread out On two chairs, one settee. It’s goodn...

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Poem of the month

On His Mistress’s Demands for Poetry (from The Kind Ghosts)

OK, I’ll compare thee to a summer’s day: You’re not that bright, but you’re hot. While poets may say you’re like the rose Both you and I know you’re not. True, you walk in beauty in the night (...

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Poem of the month

If I was…

If I was string I’d want you to unwind me If I was spices I’d want you to grind me If I was a contract I’d want you to bind me But I’m a missing cog, a little lost dog – so just find me ...

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Poem of the month

sitting

Oh how I love to sit And watch the inferior world nurdle by, its trousers tucked into its socks how superior I feel. Me with my bicycle clips. Ha!

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Poem of the month

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