The Ghosts of Ash and the Nuclear Spectre (Part Two)
If Hiroshima haunts through absence, the Titanic haunts through overexposure. The Titanic has been replayed, retold, reconstructed, and reanimated so many times that it barely qualifies as an event anymore. It … Continue reading
The Ghosts of Ash and the Nuclear Spectre (Part One)
Disasters have a habit of lingering long after everyone has agreed that they are finished. The rubble gets cleared. The plaques get installed. The anniversary documentaries get commissioned. The calendar … Continue reading
Namaste, or: What Keeps Coming Back (in a Slightly Worse Mood) (Part Three)
On the way down, the sound followed for a while, then thinned, then vanished. It didn’t echo. That was the strangest part. For all its droning insistence, it left … Continue reading
A Deserted Village
This is the first thing I wrote that I would consider being a poem. I’d written some verses and some stuff that looked like a poem but I was never … Continue reading
Lunar Tattoos – Available Now
I’m thrilled to announce that my first poetry chapbook – called Lunar Tattoos – is now available from Amazon in both eBook and physical form. It’s a collection poems about … Continue reading
Dais
The wrong shoes impede my ascent and I struggle-slip through grass and gorse. The keen thorned shrubs tug on too thin clothes and claw at barely waxed haversack … Continue reading
A Deserted Village
An Architect would no doubt weep at the maze of tumbled rock found sad, lonely, lost beneath the sweep of beaten bracken paths. Summer brings bright silence with each new … Continue reading
A Dream
To see the sky with no tangent vapours marking its jetted limits… To see the land unboxed, its concertina scars flooded and weeping… To see the mirror-straits deepest … Continue reading
Tromsdalen
There was a time when a small shack, – unused in decades – stood here, shaking under a barrage of wind and hail; door barely hanging on by it’s friable rust devoured hinges; charged … Continue reading
three
i have walked for nearly thirty miles and yet lack the courage to pass through the sap sticky firs and on to other soil there is no mark no … Continue reading
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