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Graham Buchan

Updated: Mon, 18 May 2020 02:18 pm

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Published 'Airport Reading' (tall lighthouse, 2004), ‘There is Violence in these Vapours’ (tall lighthouse, 2007 “… proves he is a master of ‘viral poetry’ – words that infect the reader with their anger, cynicism and intelligence…..” Agnes Meadows), 'In Bed with Shostakovich' (pamphlet, tall lighthouse, 2009), ‘Lucky’ (Lapwing Publications, 2015 “Buchan has said his piece and there is enough in this collection to remind this reader of how lucky he is.” Write Out Loud), 'Burglar: 45 Slight Poems' (Lapwing Publications, 2017). Poems in three dozen magazines, two national newspapers and fifteen anthologies. Joint winner Piccadilly Poets 2001, The Cellar Slam Champion 2006. Has appeared on BBC London (TV), BBC London (radio), Resonanace FM, Optical Radio, Sub City Radio, WBAI (New York), Iraqi TV. Appeared at Austin Poetry Festival, 2003 and 2008, Wireless Festival in Hyde Park, Babylon Festival in Al Hillah, Iraq (2014), International Poetry Festival, Granada, Nicaragua (2018), Letras en la Mar, Puerto Vallarta, Mexico (2019) and 2 two-week poetry tours to New York, 2006 and 2009. Also published short stories, articles, travel writing, poetry appreciation and dozens of film and art reviews. My Gaudi House was Write Out Loud's Poem of the Month in November 2009. Video clips of some of my poems being read van be found at


Sun and rain on soil Bamboo thick and juicy Panda does a poo Toot-toot, beep-beep. The tides suck and pout, the mountains sweat on the inside, the cliffs are performing their own abortions, and the volcano has decided to masturbate. The good Earth loves herself and loathes herself. Her molten heart is wanting to explode, her naked neck is looking for a tree. And the bubble people, in their bubble cars, shuffle along - toot-toot - bumper to bumper - beep-beep, they shuffle shortly along, toot-toot, beep-beep! The bubble people strut like actors; the actors strut like out-of-work actors; the out-of-work actors become poets. Toot-toot, beep-beep! On the side of the volcano, shrouded in sulphur, the actress is still doing her actressy thing, and below, knee deep in lava, the poet is still doing his poety thing. Toot-toot, beep-beep! The boiling sea and the gurgling Earth and the bubble people. Toot-toot, beep-beep! Estuary House. Walls papered with mortality. The river pushes and sucks, pushes and sucks eternally. Wisteria clinging to brick like a drowning prisoner. The white room sinewy with music and silence. The yellow room cooked by television. The light pink room: dreams dragging their anchors; dread widening its mouth. The waking shriek of gulls. We washed curtains, removed carpets, changed appliances. Walls papered with mortality. The river pushes and sucks, pushes and sucks eternally. Feast on a bonfire of documents.

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.

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steve mellor

Sun 4th Oct 2009 10:38

Hello Graham
I'm not sure if I'm a 'we' but your comment brought your name/profile to my attention, and I wanted to say how much I enjoyed My Gaudi House. I thought it absolutely brilliant.
Perhaps it's closer to my ideas of the expression of love.
Steve M.

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Nichola Burrows

Mon 21st Sep 2009 11:07

Thanks for your comments. My husband said a similar thing and told me to update my history before writing, but I hope I put the idea across.

Hitler not only desecreated humanity but much of the world's Art. I'm not a religious person, but wherever he is I hope he's suffering twelve million times more than the suffering he placed on each individual. Knowing our luck he'll be Satan.s right hand man and come back to haunt humanity at the end of days.

Maybe I should have personified him as War, one of the four horseman of the Apocolypse.

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