Another year about to end. Maybe the Mayans that made up that calendar had it better. As the year closes one is pressed to look back and gauge how it went. It's just another year, perhaps. Many things have transpired, and many more in the offing.

 

1AM, It's a New Year

Just a few hours more
about half a day for the rest
for each timezone on the globe
we tear off the last she...

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oh leviathan

dashed bereft under hanging skies
that mirror your sagging pall

I stand, Ishmael, to your bloody demise

amidst the niveous fulminating
and hovering nebs

where Neptune  saw fit to serve your hulkfor its absolute picking

by those which need and others that greed
with no affect to your fabled past

your jaw,mute in life,thunders now in death
of the...

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Looks like we are still in with a shout:

 

Dear Colleague

You may be aware that Stockport Council recently carried out consultation with  customers and other stakeholders on Museums & Cultural Attractions in Stockport with a view to achieving budget savings of £188,000 over the next two years.  We are grateful to all those who took the time to take part in this exercise.  The origin...

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A New Year ?

 

I cannot sing the lords song,

Not now in this strange land,

Where laws are just for changing,

And traditions cannot stand.

 

I grew with certain values,

Those values now so changed,

The sacred brought to nothingness,

Our morals rearranged.

 

We spare the rod incessantly,

We give the feckless space,

We can’t promote religion,

...

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rewrite

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I wrote this piece - inspired by Andrew Fusek Peters words.

 

 

Trading Bullets for Lives in Acts of Freedoms

 

 

Have you ever held a rifle with a full magazine?

Have you ever felt the weight of just one round

In the hand;- your hands?

Have you ever listened after a fire-fight –

Where null and avoidance is returned in hate?

A claiming of valiant crus...

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Even the closest speak , I asked her to be quiet. Others make me cringe. My theory was honest. I think eventually it's is one. Woof woof.

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I wrote this piece after the events at Newtown and crazy reaction from those deluded enough to think that more guns equals safer country. They have 300 million guns and one of the highest murder rates in the world. As a poet, as an American who is also british, as a father, I wrote this response.

 

HOW MANY MORE?

 

Where can I start, but the young ones, their hearts

Ar...

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He’d built a life’s path brick by brick

Held together by sand and stick

 

It rivalled her wall of crumbling stone

They stood together completely alone

 

She felt she knew him all of his life

But couldn’t understand the edge of the knife

 

Sharpened by resistance, ready to slice

the red thread between them, not once but twice

 

Once in dreams...

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I took the family out for a meal on Christmas day,

There were quite a few and I had to pay !

All five courses were first class,

All the leftovers I frugally did amass.

"Waiter please may I have a bag  to take the leftovers home for my pet ?"

"Ooo!"blurted out my daughter,"What sort are we going to get ?"

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Has it really been one year?

Is this what it takes to really breathe?

Well no one told me it would be that harsh..

Well maybe..

Maybe I should have asked..

 

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I have died 600 hundred times before
& through-out the pain there you where;
the heir of serenity preached, spring fourth a trinity of able souls
and although I have been shown how to sleuth, I'm told only a leader will survive;
so in the stronghold
today life,
do what you will to stay with me.

Fore I'm an elder whose boy inside has witnessed enough to haunt the proud
...

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Earthwide rhythms, the gentle whisper

erupts in new and beautiful

usualless jewels.

 

Sounds that move mountains

and within

it contains the sun,

the rain: it breaches seasons,

 

relieves all cause and worry,

redeems all meaning.

 

Intuitive music,

selfless twists of genius.

 

Some quiet and some

with aching gales.

 

A platf...

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I know I’ve got a lot of stuff and no, I don’t need much more.

I know advertising’s full of guff and persuasion is what it’s for.

I know others needs are greater, but too often I forget

As I’m a self-berating splurger, oft wracked with deep regret.

 

No matter if you’re measuring in common, pounds or pence,

Too often it would seem that we have more money than sense.

I kno...

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Lada Love

Have you ever been so in love with a machine it hurts?

I am. The reason?

Lada cars especially Riva estate cars with square spotlamps in the grill.

What a beautifully proportioned machine,

each line in the right place.

Utilitarian design and poetical looks, filling my soul with joy.

Yes I feel happiness when I see a Lada car.

It makes my day and I ...

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I would hurry to the kitchen
with pedipalps a-twitching,
to see what I could get.
And when there I would eat all
the insides of every beetle,
if I had a spinnerette.

And that's only the beginning;
it sets my head a-spinning
to see them in my net.
To the edge I would scarper
where I'd pluck it like a harper
if I had a spinnerette.

Oh, I could catch the fly
that vent...

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REMEMBER

 

Each day I see your proud

stare from the carved frame

above the stairs

you wear the ostentatious

plumed hat of

the Italian Bersaglieri

and although it

was only national service

you had your share

of war later

an enemy alien

interned in the country

where you chose to settle.

 

...

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Merry Christmas to my dearest friends,

Living on different and beautiful Lands!

Merry Christmas to all – big and small!

Merry Christmas to you and you, and you!

To all those who say more often “hello” than “adieu”.

Merry Christmas to all… rich and poor

To those who are always know and sure

That tomorrow will certainly come,

That our world is blithesome and ...

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(With a nod of debt to the incomparable John O'Farrell)

 

I blame the Government and the bankers and the rest of the fatcats and the US and the multinationals.

I don’t blame me for:

·        Wanting a sub-prime mortgage I can’t afford

·        Electing the government

·        Electing every government

·        Retiring early and drawing my pension

·        ...

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Hunched shoulders

hands in shallow pockets

hiding from the cold

left hand searching for an ember of warmth

in the corners of threadbare lining

fingers tingle

as he finds his last penny of comfort...

a pick for his guitar

 

His soul released

he starts to play

Hendrix style - Hey Joe

people stop, heads turn,

faces stare

as he rocks All Along the Watchtower

...

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On the eve of Christmas, I'm re-posting this short poem in the spirit of remembrance. and the wonder of life's glorious renewal.

........................................................................................................................

How fitting now in deep December,

When days are short and life is low,

That in our hearts we will remember

Those we loved who h...

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Stood Up

 

Creeping away from bed and favourite thriller,

you must wash your hair, again,

perform yet another make-up legerdemain,

clamp yourself into iron maiden jeans.

 

At 52, you do not listen for his car’s theme tune

but start to list the weekly shop,

checking clocks you realise he is 30 minutes late,

an old wound’s twinge He has stood you up.

...

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I was moved to upload this because of the relevance of Bugarach to the end-of-the-world prognostications for today, 21st December, 2012.

Bugarach,

Whose rocks

burn pink

in the sunset

of a fading sky.

 

Conversation frozen

for one half-moment,

heads turned,

eyes narrowed,

hearts miss

a beat

In memory of ancestors

whose feet

signed this ...

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Holly berry and mistletoe on the vine

Prompt me to render this rhyme,

Of merry greetings that come to mind

Written out line by line.

 

The short cold days are the sign

That once more its Christmas time,

So get ready with a toast of ale or wine

To celebrate Old Lang Syne.

 

Let all that’s best and good combine

As glittering stars and fairy lights shine...

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EE LOVE…..

 

“Ee, love, what a sad time to meet –

You could have knocked me right off me feet

When I heard about your Stan –

Such a lovely, lovely, man…

 

He was all but in his prime –

Well, we all must go sometime –

Ee, love, now, don’t take on so:

Here’s a clean hanky: now bear up, you know

Time will heal…..Eh, your Stan –

Such a kind, lov...

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(This was an exercise in five beat blank that turned itself into a sort of poem)

 

Everything around began to change

Not, mind you, immediately – no

But soon enough – yes soon enough.

A hazing round the edges of the sight

Began it all , The keen discerning scent

Lost a little of it`s former stretch,

And soon the strong brisk spring in muscle and bone

Began to...

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He sits in the driving seat

a wired up coil of rage

ready to spring,

a vacuum of anger

to feed from what was once her joy

spitting forth his accusations

like sparks from a torch,

blowing away the laughter,

blowing away the happy,

blowing away the merry

 

and so this is Christmas.

 

‘She was late to answer her mobile,

he’s texted several ti...

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Health and safety directives may sit on the shelf

But prick our conscience, like the holly everywhere

To make us think that Christmas is bad for the health

As many dangers lurk half-hidden in its tinselled glare.

 

Might twining ivy poison tiny toddlers who will pass?

And could pine needles stab them, drawing blood?

And, since bright baubles shatter into shards of gl...

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John was killed on the motorway today

His wife was taking the kids to school

She had waved him goodbye that morning

Death came later, without any warning

 

They had a tentative arrangement for lunch

So they’d left their options open

And later, so the reporter said on the evening news

No other words were spoken

 

A boy racer cut him up so they foolishly de...

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Another cold coffee one stale cigarette
She takes a slow walk to the door
The memories linger, she never forgets
But she knows she can’t stay anymore.
And the passionate dreaming that keeps her alive
Seems cloudy and distant now
She’s finding it hard day by day to survive
But she knows she will anyhow.

It’s just another road Christine
It’s just another forgotten dream
...

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The old lady shouted "Help me, please help me"

Sitting in her chair she was

wrapped in multicoloured shawl

refusing to elaborate

 

She couldn't see and couldn't hear

Refused to have her hearing help

Continued shouting "Help me help me"

"Won't somebody help me please"

 

Yet every time I tried to help her

Shouts vociferous and rude

Decrying all that...

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"The Christmas Dinner"
by Duncan Stevens
Staged by Second Skin Theatre
Directed by Andy McQuade
Seen by Alain English on 15th December 2012
At White Rabbit Theatre

This is certainly a unique production in London Fringe history.  Staged two weeks ago as "The Exorcism" based on a 1970s television play, it was forced to close down after legal objections.  It has since reopened in thi...

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Three of my poems have been published in an anthology entitled Soul Vomit - profits to go to a domestic violence charity. The anthology can be ordered online via https://www.createspace.com/4084570 in case anyone is feeling a poetry-shaped hole in their stocking.

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When the hours feel

like hammers against the kneecaps

 

When every mouth that

opens looks like a steel trap

 

When the only things you’ve

got in are a block of cheese and a broken egg

 

When that kid on the

scooter rides into your leg

 

When the truth is

translucent and the lies are bold

 

When you sleep in your

coat be...

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Little boys know war.

Little girls know love and pain,
gentle kisses in summer rain,
where they're going,
and from where they came.

Little boys know war.

Little girls know truth and fear,
a cold smile, a warm tear,
how much it cost.
to get through the year.

Little boys know war.

Little girls know how to poison, how to heal,
how to cry, how to steal,
how to ig...

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Listen for the first foot-fall:

Sunken pads in the winter snow,

The patter of ducks to bread,

Silence

As Venus hauls the sun from her bed

To drip across the sky.

 

Waiting for the first footing,

Heavy on the ice,

And Giggling across the carpet,

Feet spread like paeonies,

Embracing arms,

She learns to fly.

 

 

 

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The last Pop Up Poetry event of 2012 was  a memorable occasion, a fitting climax to the year where we have built up our audience and our expertise to bring to Guildford a platform where local poets can have a hearing and poets from  London and other centres can make their voices heard in our provincial (dare I say) locality. The evening of December 11th  at the  Bar des Arts, Guildford, was dev...

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Please take a moment to have a look at my updated booking page.

http://openmindcollective.com/the-openmind-collective/book-ushiku/

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I wasn't dead,

just never alive

Turner Prize

gold medal

all for a dive.

 

A dyspraxic in a speedboat

as I struggled to swim

in shark infested waters

but I won't let them win.

 

The rewards of success

for creating a mess

an unmade bed

for an economy's left.

 

People can study

and some even praise

others are starstruck

...

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Joy, rebellion, forgiveness

life, wisdom, love

 

Destined winged music that cooed my heart

The cry that fertilized the earth when the sun dawned

Hope, disappointment,

the pain that hurt me in some corner

 

The line of life, and also the betrayal where one day I’d wake

listening to prayers that my death will announce

 

Poor dreams of mine...

...

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Some people try

to force a

smile from me,

but it's futile.

 

Sometimes they figure

out somethings wrong,

sometimes not.

 

Some actually get

angry because I

don't just

"Snap out of it."

 

So I pretend

everything's OK.

But I'm secretly

crumbling deep inside.

 

Th...

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Here's a film of my performance of 'Unsolicited (1968 - 2012)' recorded at the Cadence Cafe, for Performance! (run by the lovely Jeffarama)

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1LUvJ0IDwdg&feature=plcp

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im not having a go

you are wonderfull

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Here is the site for Zona, the art magazine of The Spider Project in Liverpool, featuring interviews, poetry, fiction and photography from the Spider project in Liverpool and in The Wirral

 

http://zonathemagazine.wordpress.com/

 

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http://youtu.be/U_KG6BqiyPs

Here's the video version of the poem I posted in early November. Just in time for the day of action against Starbucks, too!

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...

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                  Anger raged Leaving me ragged and broken high upon another lonely shore Madness afire Cruel words conspire from my open mouth Blazing crazed vile obscenities Washed away in a rain of tears I extinguished love True true love I gave up the fight It’s growing darker now I’m afraid I’m losing the light Vom...

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The Romantic Scent

of Rose, Orchid and

Golden jasmine, softly

embraced by Sandalwood

and Vanilla

 

 

 

 

SOLVENT ABUSE CAN KILL INSTANTLY

 

 

Ingredients: BUTANE, ISOBUTANE, PROPANE, ALCOHOL DENAT, PARFUM FRAGRANCE, PROPYLENE GLYCOL, TRIETHYL CITRATE, FARNESOL, LINALOOL, COUMARIN, ALPHA ISOMETHYL IONONE, GERANIOL, LIMONENE, HYDROCITRONELL...

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Bethlehem is bolted shut

and there no jobs in this England

The innkeepers hold cardboard doors

and he been on his bike so long

That say no room and we full up

for twenty, forty miles and more

An angel’s crying for her mum

and he has turned his cycle round

The shepherd cannot find his flock

and wise men have all been and gone

The donkey’s ears have fallen ...

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I  look  up   she  looks  away , she  looks  up , I  look  away
We  cannot  carry  on  this  way , same  old  dance  from  day  to  day.

She  starts  to  speak,  I  interrupt, I  start  to  speak, she interrupts
Both  drinking from this broken cup, too complicated to say I need you .

I  start  to move, she moves  away,  she starts  to move, I  move  a...

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Steve Garside is an artist, designer, published poet, photographer and filmmaker from Rochdale, Lancashire, England. He studied social sciences at the University of Manchester, England.

 

Das Auge I'm Eis came about as a result of an invite to be guest photographer at the Ludwig Maximillan University in Munich. The combination of Dachau being in close proximity to Munich, an introductio...

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If the art galleries shut
It’s not just a case of where
Would all the pictures go?

Not just a case of where
Would all of the staff go
(even though there is precious
few of them left altogether now),

or drawing classes
not being able to draw
or sketch
anywhere else.

It’s more of a case
Of it the art galleries shut
Where would you
Be encouraged
To look...

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I always thought that I could be a dowser.

Why did you never come

to sit at my table?

 

I hear of spirits met -

a soldier sitting at the bed end,

one shoe off.

 

I’ve never seen a ghost.

No soldier ever spoke to me.

 

If anyone could reach back through the dark

it would be you.

But you have never spoken.

 

Once, at midnight

c...

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Pull me this way, pull me that way
tie me, bind me, use me at your will
feel the rythmm of the drum
Tease me, Please me, make me explode in time to your drum
As you beat down upon my flesh with the tools of pleasure and pain

Pull me this way,pull me that way
tie me, bind me, use me at your will
feel my breathe quicken as you bring forth again the pleasure that engulfs me i...

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O unwise Katherine Jenkins –

Your lovely face in full screen

A Scaramouche mask

Your red gown bleeding over the stage

Like the entrails of sacrifice -

Over the top, Katherine – O.T.T.

 

Dancers dominated to cartoon shadows

Choir boys drowned with descant

Slinky slitted ‘Holy Night’

With four stressed tenors

A sad gaffe

Business promotion gone awr...

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I met a girl in the corridor

she walked tall with limbs long

chestnut hair stroked her perspired fore

while through the air called softly a song.

 

each note formed round a lightening tone

her eyes stretched to see beyond me as she spoke

between her and the distance sentences had grown

into a lily scent with perfumed oils awoke.

 

she tripped with pleasur...

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Project A119,

The Americans consider

Exploding a Nuclear bomb

On the Moon, the tide is changing?

Brrrr war is cold.

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Blankness prevails
So white and so nothing
This canvas becomes
The wall where it hangs
Slumped at its angle
A sorrowful state
Promising nothing
So lifeless and pale
Hints of a thought
Disperse into air
Weightless and empty
And cold to the breath
This blank little canvas
May never be saved
Only waiting for someone
To rescue it’s face

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...

‘Twas ever thus. A cup beside the
drunken bed while the child who
cannot cry remains unfed, remains
unclean, uncleansed of sin, betrayed
by your ugliness, rotting from within.

‘Twas ever thus. You say it again.
The excuse is your constant refrain,
your constant limp which you are
proud to show, you lean against the
crutch, you cannot let go.

And her heart is...

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My mind is empty from thought

I am nowhere I am everywhere, I am free

Of things that I was once taught

I look and do not see.

 

I think about nothings, no thoughts

No feeling, no sight, no touch

I walked and mused on hidden truths

My awareness expanding so much.

 

There is no turning back

The illusion can never be true

When the veil is lifted

I will see my wa...

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Seven seconds slap the bow-

Seven seconds splash the oars-

Seven seconds wash the shore-

Seven seconds wash the welcoming mussels-

Seven seconds,seven seconds,seven seconds-

Seven seconds welcomes a sun glinting new wave.

 

My name is Ingimund (Norseman) I am the leader of

thousands of Wirral Vikings, the year is 902 AD.

By agreement with your Saxon King Ethe...

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Every new dawn brought you
a glass of sea in a knot
of salt, which squeezed
your breath while you sang
to make the unbridled fear
fall asleep in a whisper.
And we know the distance
bled  on that shore of hardships
by your trembling steps.
When the bread was crumbled
into nothing by the fangs
of war, which eat and kill
at the same time.
But in the secret shelter
of th...

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Beyond the beige

And everyday tasks,

And the re-emergence

Of discarded new ideas,

Lies a truth.

Look under the layers

Of used tissues

To the heart of things.

The matter’s root.

Listen to the sounds between the clock ticks

for the meaning of time passing.

Then dig through the pie crust.

Devour what lies beneath.

...

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