whatever (Remove filter)
Aberystwyth, February 1978
Standing at the brink
in off-brand corduroy, dyed wool
picking apart the sunbeams
with your one hand slowly
closing.
The funicular sings silent
the third curve of dust-white
aggregate is steeper still
and behind you lies
the vast bowl of swallowed
time, the shattered stopwatch
shards hanging loosely
quivering swords
over ripped Polaroid.
You drop the ...
Tuesday 22nd February 2022 11:33 pm
Sports Day
Afterwards you came to me
and asked
'Why did you slow down
before the end?'
I had not realised
I had
The blue glass sky
bled us sweat-dry
and lurking
in the corner
always the eyes
the eyes
Inside all was madness
and crushed teal ice
for all of us
my mind's stalled
back in time
for what?
I could not shed
the cloak of air
I'd...
Sunday 10th January 2021 9:37 pm
Scrap Philosophy
Hate is for the jilted,
no-go refunds
and markets saturated with remembrance.
I'd like to pick tulips
and prise up weekends for play,
we'll scream
down corridors and
is that not enough?
Dreading penance I don't want
rain days, just candles
and cars, the road
and space
to dream and walk.
When I fall too far
you call me back
and I'll open the le...
Saturday 4th July 2020 11:56 pm
you can probably guess the title, there's a theme going here (03/09/2020)
sitting
at the bottom
of a well
everything looks so small from down here.
as a close acquaintance to nothing
I can tell you that time is relative to
the steps I take towards a biological death
but not the wrath and reaping in-depth
well-lit and liked
by a narrow spoonful of silver moonlight.
were it so easy to call it
death
but down here time remains bereft
cobblestones worn sm...
Monday 9th March 2020 8:57 pm
MATES
Glad to hear your voice
Happy to be with you
Always, you're very nice
Whatever you say or do
Lucky, to be your friend
To share you fact and fun
Forever together no end
Shining heart as the sun
Among thousand fans
We're the mates in reality
Sharing act and talks
Hearts believe in Honesty
Wednesday 27th February 2019 11:08 am
Moon Haiku (or 'How Poets Can Pale Into Insignificance')
Full moon wreathed in cloud
like black pepper smudged on white
ghostly negative.
Sunday 3rd December 2017 1:22 am
Father
1981, the year a blue stencil,
verso, gloss off-white,
unstuck blu-tacked, loose framed,
sun-curled image
your grin and your cow-lick,
and causal wear,
your ghost in my machine.
A bawling, squall, curtains
of hail and rain hang outside,
ladder, paint, spots and tans
and frayed carpet,
the dark, shaggy corner swamp,
where I found you, sideways-stacked,
cracked...
Tuesday 19th September 2017 8:06 pm
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