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
Kings
With fingers stained and sticky From the juice of scrumped berries I peel enamel scales from the top of the weathered climbing frame. From its ramparts, my pink … Continue reading
Hallsands (Plymouth)
In The London we’d talk of the Skerries, the herring and lobster, the Channel bluster stealing Ma Jones’ dizzy bells from the line – and other important fripperies … Continue reading
The Wrong Forest
Mean aluminium trees – plastic vines circulating analgesic sap – fail to sway in the bare thoracic snap from tired, syncopating lungs. Phoney canopy on geometric bough. Silent, motionless … Continue reading
A Psalm of Stone
1. A merlin whiffles and surveys a ditch and bank, grateful for now open land and prey; leaving bark and sap and leaf unsheathed; replaced by rootless fruit … Continue reading
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
Bailey Bank
No Bailey takes us from mainland and over the Faeroes to open seas above Rosemary Seamount Crater that gapes, dormant but screaming, as she is force fed distressed ships and … Continue reading
Jack Skellington Moment….
What’s this? What’s This! I’m only in the new issue of The London Magazine! Second appearance, third soon. Two poems over three pages, both with a slightly Viking bent… As … Continue reading
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
News, apologies, excitement (slight return)
If I’ve seemed a bit quiet of late, there are a number of good reasons. Firstly, I’ve been chasing up a PhD for myself and after several months, I’ve got … Continue reading
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