Poetry

Ugly Truth

  Ugly Truth Tonight I got drunk alone in my bed because you thought it would be right to not talk to me So I swayed on pillows and pissed in dark bathrooms and got pissed and was pissed at myself for getting drunk not being enough Or being too much or being me I shot… Continue reading Ugly Truth

Poetry

On The Kiss of Wind #2

  On the Kiss of Wind #2 By the time he gets to Turnpike Lane his eyes are drooping the back and forth of rails turning all his y’s into g’s stale air for stale thoughts and somewhere up there kissed by wind she sleeps bamboo chimes singing his lullaby whispering... -Well, that’s for her ear. Run… Continue reading On The Kiss of Wind #2

Poetry

On The Kiss of Wind

  On the Kiss of Wind I’m walking the length of the platform listening to Einaudi air fat with tourists each step honey slow I’m playing the high part on my right hand heels calacking looking down into the darkness for that sweet kiss of wind gentle mothers breath a droplet forming slick tongued and lanky… Continue reading On The Kiss of Wind

Poetry

Ghosts

Ghosts Tonight: Look, running towards me comes Maddy and all her though I am repeating myself nightmare hair. But when she passes she is Notmaddy I am blind at a distance but capable of great insights. There’s something of her unbearable ballerina footfalls jogging ghosts dancing in my skull. And there at the bus stop… Continue reading Ghosts

Poetry

In Which I Am Angry At Myself At 2am

In Which I Am Angry At Myself At 2am for promising myself I wouldn’t let anyone in convincing myself I was strong enough to break hearts to build walls around parts of my own bare faced lies in a mirror same old childish sighs believing that I was not soft nor gentle and placid not malleable,… Continue reading In Which I Am Angry At Myself At 2am

Poetry

I Will Write An Ode To Her Tight Jeans

I Will Write an Ode to Her Tight Jeans This is an artists sketch, surely all perfect lines this is millimetre thin against your skin, exquisite this is fine sculpted stone marble sharp, this is a denim tight curve alighting. This is my poem to your arse in those jeans, this is art for the… Continue reading I Will Write An Ode To Her Tight Jeans

Poetry

Digger VE/6136

Digger VE/6136 ‘E’s an ‘andsome bloke, is ol’ mate Luke, wiv ‘is peelin’ sunburnt nose, ‘e’s six-foot-two, frum Humpty Doo, an’ farmin’s all ‘e knows– but when the call fer arms went round, the cobber showed ‘is colours, an’ now ‘e’s ‘ere on forrin ground, wiv ‘is fellow bushwhacked brothers. ‘E’s ‘andy with a bayonet,… Continue reading Digger VE/6136

Poetry

Cirrus Dancing

Cirrus Dancing Start with the corners. The half minutes. The awkward bumps. Blue for the sky, and white lace breezing from walls like poetry waxed smooth. Here, the puzzled pieces of your ankle braille under baked digits. Pull this apart, deconstruct, an eventime light lifting your eyes- line scanners, them and words words pulling back down filling… Continue reading Cirrus Dancing

Poetry

Peregrinations

Peregrinations For Dad Take flight, O Muse, take wing on charcoal skies, take steps, Minstrel, take music, take your song, take hearts, Pilgrim take eyes and make them shine, take chances, traveller, take time, make rights from wrongs. Take note, Pippin: -when your handwriting gets so bad you can’t read your own lines- take comfort,… Continue reading Peregrinations

Poetry

Creation Myths

Creation Myths  ‘On the 12th day God created Me in his image which is to say Godlike completely made up a right bastard. And it was good.’ I am more than the sum of my parts I am an impossible fraction of all my past broken hearts- a tyre on ice gaining traction. The net yield… Continue reading Creation Myths