My words, work and stuff I hope you like

The winds of change

Red and gold handkerchiefs flap about the floor,Mischievously hiding once common sights.Summer’s green gloves turned by another season. A soft breeze blows the willow’s silver sleeves with ease,And the Birch’s too.Exhausted Brimstones falling to rest on the pavement. In unison, the trees barrel and roll,Great swathes of tumbling sage form folding waves on which theContinue reading “The winds of change”

Sunset drinks

Fingers of froth feel their way into the shore’s sea-soaked cracks,Slip, slap, shiplap overlapping conversations between ocean and cooled lava,In the air above the waves, music blurs with the chatter of parading peas and hens,Sun-baked scents of forgotten herb beds on dry mountain terraces fuse with expensive oils,Floating fragrances that signal the beautiful ones areContinue reading “Sunset drinks”

Steel City Blues

Confused and bemused stare the young squinting eyes,In the heart of steel city, under banners from ages gone by.Living ghosts bat back indifferent sighs. They look away from their lattes and buns of pulled pork.With no idea of why they fought and why we still walk.The cannon fodder of history; we don’t do small talk.Continue reading “Steel City Blues”

For Sigrit

Burst the bubble, Step outside Tear down the self-built, unsafe, foundationless walls, Even a goldfish knows it cannot hide With wide-open sparkling eyes Step outside, See the wider horizons and bluer skies, Are you looking from out or inside? The goldfish bowl? The flimsy bubble? The prison walls? Make them rubble. This is not yourContinue reading “For Sigrit”

In the cell

No cellmates in the cave,No mates to say be brave.No voice to calm your nerves,No choice is ever heard.No one there to turn the key,No one here but you and me.The sound of laughter all around,All around there’s not a sound.A sense of living and being dead,A sense of living in my head.

Autumn fret

The darkness rolled in like a morning sea fret, Gluing us to warm memories and to our beds, Over which autumn’s duvet had been pulled, Under which the bustle of summer, lay quietly lulled.

Crocodile Tears

No more wind-blown, torn cloud reptile tears,That fill the space where words should claimThe right to state and not whitewash years,But echo back the skin-felt blame,And the shame, the shame, the shame, the shameOf mine-deep things hid in our name,Like a poisoned fruit from a poisoned treeWith mangled roots that won’t let us beThey holdContinue reading “Crocodile Tears”

Solstice flames

Sculptured Willow of green silhouetted silk,Host to a blackbird in full throated operatic flight,Ceasing its song to trade alerts with its brother,A call to refuse the end of day, this night.“Be up with you, you, you, you, you” he cries,Embers of the longest day fade from sight. And while the light is still here, thereContinue reading “Solstice flames”

Ebony Line

Where lies the conjuring power of this starkest contrast? its simplicity is just masterful, eloquent and bombast. This so perfect example of polemic spectrum ends, it spells out a full lexicon in its curving bend. With its black hole power, it sucks you in, dominion supreme, ebony line so thin.


Brethren of the selfish and Arrogant. Self-serving and shameless, Tory fat-cats scoffing buffets at a food bank. Avaricious to a tee, Regardless of their Disgusting behaviour. Soulless vile shits every fucking one of them.


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