Will Vigar

a writer of sorts

Oil and Algae

We tramped through narrow dew set paths lined with gorse, it’s barbed wire limbs waving warning trophies of rent clothing; a BMX, abandoned in the no man’s land of briar … Continue reading

April 22, 2019 · Leave a comment

Nairn Beach (Impressionist)

Saltwater seethes from the Black Isle to tease an endless beach; sea touching sky with a palette of blue green and haze grey. Rothko shimmers quickening the landscape   painting … Continue reading

April 10, 2019 · 4 Comments

Via

nameless child nameless child mother earless mumchance   isle-bound by the grace of a king – to search for the divine idiolect – communion with the light of lights   … Continue reading

April 9, 2019 · Leave a comment

Tidal

In silt and sand awaiting the thellasic lick of high water, flaccid buoys – tethered to mark the edge of aphrodisiac beds – rise in time for the smack and … Continue reading

January 29, 2019 · Leave a comment

Maps

And then there’s me… the reluctant God of All Distance, placing a foot on paths seen only In lucid dreams   and on Google Earth. Breathless and drifting I vault … Continue reading

January 3, 2019 · Leave a comment

Two of the reasons I’m doing a PhD

A Confessional Prose Poem of sorts. i) Martin came  by to babysit.        I was three and had heard          Good Vibrations by the Beach Boys     on the radio that morning   … Continue reading

July 12, 2018 · Leave a comment

Carrot

  There is   a car   rot on   the lawn;   the on   ly ev   idence   that we   once had   snow. Win   … Continue reading

March 1, 2018 · Leave a comment

Lullaby

The frenetic signal lost from Luxemburg at 0045 hours nightly, gave me time to retune the transistor radio to the long wave, ghost whining of empty air.   White mono … Continue reading

February 24, 2018 · 1 Comment

Hastings Beach 1974

Ignoring the arguments and the cigarette fug, I rub the condensation from the window. It won’t be long before white noise stops its sibilant assault on roof and windscreen.   … Continue reading

February 10, 2018 · Leave a comment

Hotel. Birmingham. 19.8.17. 03:17.am

Birmingham sleeps, its illuminated building works, a shadow jungle to trap the drunk and wary.   Lost in the plastic and sodium labyrinth; infernal circles traced in brick dust, he … Continue reading

February 8, 2018 · Leave a comment