Here, you’ll find poetry, writing and maybe the occasional photograph. I have 25 years’ worth of poems to slowly start uploading as well as new pieces I’m working on. Comments, feedback, tips, constructive criticism are all welcome. Do your worst.
If you’re interested to know more about the author, see the ‘About‘ section. Or feel free to drop me an email: email@example.com For the poems, see below…
I lit a fire on the beach you were feeling beaten by the wind no, we can’t hear anything in this weather but the waves and the crackling wood you don’t speak anyway we have nothing we care to say
Our human silences amid nature’s screams fill me with a loss so unforgettable Our human silences amid nature’s screams fill me with a void so inescapable
The sky goes dark and the sea slides away time is huge and our movements tiny I wrote my address on the back of your hand but you reached into the water and it vanished I can’t imagine a life not anchored here as you turn slow to dive from me
The answers come only with soft punches a milked stone, I lie folded and bruised how could we ever know this lost romance your whirlpool eyes cry tears of understanding I dust the sand from my baked face and frown there’s no warning of love’s swift decay
Our human silences amid nature’s screams fill me with an ache so all consuming
Moon reveals the night’s black heart you say you love me, as you leave me you say you care for me, as you go down on him there’s no favour you can grant me anymore there’s no connection to the blood in my heart just open your palms, expose our withered bonds
The rain rages fast and hard across the sand we tussle as broken wings on some sick bird finality comes to me, its decision absolute your hand slips away and swings clear for all time I fall back into the water, exhaling slowly ‘Our home cannot be here…’
So soon it’s night again the days are short in times such as these The sun only stays so long only lays its light down for so long then it goes again we’re plunged into night
O, could you not find a torch or a candle or a lantern to bring some light in here We can’t see any hope swimming in this darkness
So soon it’s night again we’re on the same street corner I’m selling your body again I’m selling my brain it gets so dark round here I almost forget about the light there is some light, sometimes but right now it’s night…
There is a place I’ve kept it secret where answers come before the question and what is made must be undone a place where love will follow heartbreak a place where life begins in sadness I go there to forget… I go there to forget everything…
So, kiss me… Kiss me in the rainbow calming water electric lips to shock it out of me strip the corruption from my eyes tell me it’s not true, it isn’t real I go there to unravel… I go there to untangle everything…
There is a place where waves lap back out to sea to go there is to come back regressed shrunken, out of time it helps to watch the rain form and fall into the sky knowing everything is being erased I go there to come back… I go there to come back to everything…
So, drown me… Drown me in the rainbow fizzy water burning lips to scold it out of me scratch the images from my heart tell me it’s not truth, it isn’t real I go there to unravel… I go there to untangle everything…
I get out of joint, dislocate my head slip out of time I go there to forget I go there to forget everything but I can never, really forget I can never get away and I come back back to everything
Freedom is… A blank page, ruled with margins for scribbled after-thoughts Ink in the fountain pen and some new idea to spill A canvas, with pallet oiled and brushes ready A quiet room, an acoustic guitar in tune A sunrise, derelict buildings, wide lens and film ready in the camera A garden, soil turned and green fingers Wet sand, a new love and a sharp stick A science textbook, a biro and a teenage smirk
Freedom is… Truths to tell, a close friend with a sympathetic ear White folded card, marker pens, glue, an impending birthday A concrete wall, spray can in hand, something to say A ream of material, needle, thread and buttons An audience, a microphone, a knowing smile A piano, no music written but itchy fingers A blog post and a theme as free as freedom itself Freedom is your life, and whatever story you choose to write with it
They dwell in strange rooms the murky recesses of affordability barely buildings, bedrooms with sinks chair pushed up against the door flakes of lives flung everywhere a curtain, a quilt – who can really say?
A bare bulb hangs in an open window
no shade inside from day or night
Still lives go on; the rudimentary,
ramshackle, clutching at homeliness
the need for shelter unites us all
a hotel, a shed – who can really say?
In bleak electric heat, so many sing
it’s a different song
all sing a different song
Some higher, happier
some lower, more desperate than mine
flowing on through these days and nights
a verse, a chorus – who can really say?
The lawless, surging, movement of cars
the self-possessed trains below the buildings
so many pairs of eyes journeying on
the things they’ve seen, things they still see
those minds, all varied, wrapped in their own stories
a tragedy, a fairytale – who can really say?
Market stalls, street-sellers in threading gloves
the inside world spills out, a necessity
pavements become malls dressed in winter veils
motorbikes slip ghost-like in and out of sight
drunks stumble in high-spirits from bar to bar
a wall, a urinal – who can really say?
In tall towers, in basement bunkers
so many singing their different songs
some sing of the joy of things
some sing only of the difficulty
the tunes flow through this city’s veins
a love song, a death’s lament – who can really say?
But can you? can you hear the people sing? the miserable, the quietly ecstatic can you hear the people sing?
(Written in 2011, upon moving to London for the first time).
Spitting it out in the hope of releasing unlocking the cage stifling my growth burning it all selfishly brightly and the feeling is back again pounding my head again to just let go… just let go…
Spewing it up with the aim of escaping fleeing this habitual and too perfect a world shedding the handcuffs worn in contentment and the aching is back again haunting my thoughts again to just get out… just get out…
Dreaming it up in the hope of fulfilment melting again in the heat of the lime-light always around and forever predictable and the wanting is mine again consuming me whole again to just let go… just let go…
Welling them up in my shining eyes now both of them bursting in the wealth of emotion as red as your face when you listen to these words the Devil is my friend again scorching my faith again Screaming ‘just get out… just get out…’
My demons are strong again twisting my arms again almost convincing me to just let go… just let go…