Will Vigar

poet. writer. imposter.

Tor

Having had a marvellous time in Scotland (just before the operation) I wanted to come home and write lots of bucolic poetry about the wonderful scenery I had witnessed. This … Continue reading

January 5, 2023 · Leave a comment

The Red Shoes

I’ve recently been in hospital for a major and life-altering operation; fetching gown, no? I came out of the anaesthetic. I wrote this on my phone, almost immediately. I have … Continue reading

December 19, 2022 · Leave a comment

Miserable Tinsel

Dusk plummets with the grace of scissored marionettes disgorging phantom garlands from seeping notchwort across belties and gullies. Without the moon the vale, is festooned with the most miserable of … Continue reading

November 26, 2022 · Leave a comment

Vague Wisdom

As today is National Poetry Day (who knew?), I thought I’d better put something up. It’s been a while… Anyway, this started life as a cut-up using some Blake poetry, … Continue reading

October 6, 2022 · Leave a comment

Sub Iove

i – Two The first phrase I spoke was in awe of the storm. As the sky tore ablaze, my eyes widened and I pointed to the clouds. With tiny … Continue reading

September 5, 2022 · Leave a comment

(Chromo)Y+Y = +sumgain

I’m in a weird mood. Maybe this visual poem shows that. Normal service will be resumed once I have this bee out of my bonnet.

August 6, 2022 · Leave a comment

My Ex In Anger

A poem about making the best out of a crappy situation and grabbing happiness where you can.

May 21, 2022 · Leave a comment

Dungeness. March 9th. 2018.

Prompted by a visit to the spectacularly odd town of Dungeness on the southeastern corner of England. An expansive shingle beach is sparsely covered with shacks, bungalows, the odd piece … Continue reading

May 20, 2022 · Leave a comment

Stillborn

I’m fascinated by Ravenscar, ‘The Town That Never Was.’ It was meant to be built on the cliffs just south of Whitby and Robin Hoods Bay to capitalise on the … Continue reading

May 4, 2022 · Leave a comment

An Autopsy

A true story of homelessness in mid-80s Sheffield. Previously published in “Absent Ginsberg” (A Swift Exit) With apologies to Saul Bass for the adapted poster.

April 28, 2022 · Leave a comment