Will Vigar

a writer of sorts

Stavanger Sketches

1. Dismas and Gestas stare at the swords and wonder if anyone remembers them.   2. Haar drapes the cobbles stone work shimmering under it’s glister. From the tunnel between … Continue reading

February 7, 2019 · Leave a comment

Go Fund Me

As much as I hate to ask, the funding for my PhD project has fallen through. My last ditch attempt at funding is via Go Fund Me. I would be … Continue reading

January 11, 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

Well, gosh!

I’m in the London Magazine, again! Two of my poems about Norway, ‘Tromsdalen’ and ‘Losna (Winter)’ appear in the December/January issue which is available via by clicking on this link  … Continue reading

December 10, 2018 · 1 Comment

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

June 2, 2018 · Leave a comment

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

January 5, 2018 · Leave a comment

Losna (Winter)

From beside a sun- paled bridge – enamel petals falling, brickle and bleached – I watch the mounting satellite –   wan-creeping above bitter horizon – over looking-glass spatters of … Continue reading

December 19, 2017 · Leave a comment

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

December 12, 2017 · Leave a comment

ursus maritimus

Her head low and eyes fixed on mine. Loping from floe   to sea to dolerite schist; crackling on the lime rich shore;   following stale musk. Per shakes my … Continue reading

December 9, 2017 · Leave a comment

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

December 3, 2017 · Leave a comment