i take my heart out of my pocket and avoid its snarling and bitterness as i try to wrap it up a tissue like it was a foul mouthed human buzzing around like a wasp changing my idelolity into a white jewelled ghost ripping through my dreams leaving me sat there in a broken sweat in-between the margins of another existence leaving me sat there unsur...

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He hated his reflection From his too-long nose And wonky eyesight With such fear He used to close his eyes To stop looking at it. He hated his reflection And the way he had grown up Hating everybody Walking home from School Then College And eventually, work.

 

He hated his reflection Clinging to the memory of what went befo...

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(More on - free to subscribe - https://graynicholls.substack.com/)

Our past haunts the present reverberating backwards and forwards our lives, a missing piece of a puzzle that continues to ache even in its absence like a ghost standing just out of eyesight in a rearview mirror of consciousness like an aeroplane stuck between two dimensions, a prisoner of time, a spectral companion that whispers...

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To the swallows

just out of your eyesight,

 

to the tears

arcing across the edge

of your lips,

 

to the painting

carrying forward a moment

at the edge of the frame

closing the moment,

 

to the book

beating on the glass

trapped in the past

blown out in the light

now heading home,

 

closing the ending

in the middle of the margin.

 

(1st ...

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Conversation in a voicemail

 

Doing nothing

Your conversation is a voicemail.

 

Doing nothing

Your conversation

Are photographs lost in translation,

 

Grooves on a broken record deck,

Causing an explosion in exchanges

 

Passwords without questions

Laid out across broken pauses

 

Tied into a conveyor belt

In an artistic exchange

 

Copyrighted i...

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Chameleon in a Candy Store (Reflection)

 

My past, a faded wrapper, clung to me, bittersweet,

at the end of the book as other possibilities shimmered,

 

Each sweet, a choice, a moment a life path I could explore

From the journey back home or to something else.

 

Would I melt into the darkness, and become one with the swirl?

Or break free from the jar, a defiant, unflav...

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The Colour of Darkness

 

A cloak descends at the edge of every page,

Heightening the tension across the stars

A canvas across the embers’ glow

Cradling the need for change.

 

Holding the hush before the dawn,

The sigh of death lingering in darkness

A stage for fireflies' transient dream.

Erasing routes paced out across time,

 

Concepts built up from the beginn...

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No need for typing out more lies
Or truths 

- those lines have been crossed

Backwards and forwards

Too many times, too many different ways.

I was listening to your song again

Last night.

Or as I should say our song.

The words we would sing together.
Maybe if there is a god above

Or a way below…

But I can’t see it, I can’t see it
whether in your bittersweet choice
the...

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I’d love to say I still love it

And perhaps sometimes

I still do

Like when the sun meekly

Comes out

And stumbles out

Across the back of the old Victoria Station

- The effect is almost still magical

On the way, the sun even seems

To respect

This ancient monument

Which has stood

There since

The edge of time

(Well in my generation anyhow)

And has remained ...

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I will no longer accept freedom
or accept what is said
whether it is bathed
in circular moonlight
or frozen landscapes
hand in hand.

I will no longer accept sneer
or nod my head with
your approval
as you walk up and down
and say look at me.
Look at me
who won’t cry out
for the sake it

I will no longer stand in line
at the edge of existence
or deep into space.

I will no longe...

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Generating conflicts.

Power of mind.

Election corruption and rigging.

Critising Liberalism of work.

Mounting turmoil.

Starvation and mounting strikes.

Collapsing governmental systems.

Creeping sinister undertones.

Uneven national consciousness.

Power of mind.

Potential violent flashbacks.

Improvised countryside.

Lines and lines of starving people.

Mounting te...

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Haunted by the sunlight

He unspooled them all

Around the hillside in a frantic dance

 

Then rubbed in a cold shower the sea

Then over the clouds

Leaving them staggering

And dangling to each other

Like pale ghosts on a rose bush

 

Spinning their lives before them

Whether he came for them

On the beach or home

In a fragmented hush

 

Counting their names an...

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Your every breath

Left a trial on the path

As the moment to glow

A redness across

The bricks

Making us feel

Like you were a dragon

About to breath

Out a huge flame

As we ran down to the barge.

*

Your father it turned out

As we stepped down

The stairs to the seats

Until to run one of these

Back when you were a child

And you could always

Remember hi...

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This isn't just a love poem.

This isn't just a sonnet

written in a classic

Shakespeare style

or Keats's

‘Shall I compare you

to a summer’s day’

This is penned

on a cold, windy day

waiting for an interview

I had arrived

early, but as soon

as I left

the station,

it started snowing,

and god, did it snow.

God, did it snow.

It wasn’t like

it came do...

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No need for typing out more lies
Or truths
- those lines have been crossed
Backwards and forwards

Too many times, too many different ways.
I was listening to your song again
Last night.

Or as I should say our song.

The words we would sing together.
Maybe if there is a god above
Or a way below…
But I can’t see it, I can’t see it..

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No need for words.

No need for typing out more lies

Or truths

- those lines have been crossed

Backwards and forwards

Too many times, too many different ways.

I was listening to your song again

Last night.

Or as I should say our song.

The words we would sing together.

Maybe if there is a god above

Or a way below…

But I can’t see it, I can’t see it..

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I still recall you, Linda,

storming past Richard's table

screaming at the support band

‘Call that music’—

a symphony of chaos

that brought Ben and me

to tears of laughter,

yet only fueled your fiery anger.

Again, in the Fishbowl's haze,

I stumbled upon your clash with Mo Dave.

"What's this chatter about?"

I dared to ask,

and Dave, with a shrug,

said, 'Nothing...

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I have been told
Pride doesn't come into it,
But that barely begins
To describe you, Edward.

I've heard whispers
Of your ninety years,

The last two decades
Marred by constant pain,

Your shoulders hunched,
Your back crippled
In armistices.

I've been told
Pride has nothing to do with it,
Yet I see it beyond

The dapper suits,

Tailored to perfection,

In the way you stand,

...

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I don’t understand you.

I don’t understand

The way you walk

Up and down restlessly.

I don’t understand

The way you dance

Around the dancefloor

Like a crazy Manic

Never looking at what I guess

Is your girlfriend

In the face.

I don’t understand

Why you don’t smile

instead looking at her

With what I guess

Is a look of hatred.

I don't understand

why y...

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You must have been
A great thinker
And a great
Great dreamer
Just by the
Way
You stretched out
Your sentences
Across the page
And
Sometimes forgot
To place commas
For page after page.
But whether
Upon looking
Into the
Pieces
The meanings are as
Deep
As you think
There is
On whether
It was a fluke
Or an accident
I am unsure.

Lines like
‘Rain fell on the curve’
Carry so ...

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I originally wrote the

Disappearing wind in error

Instead of the

Disappearing island

And looked

Into the night skies

And listened

To the children

Chattering and mumbling

And listened to the

Drunks

Staggering home

From the Melvin

As some fell on the pavement

And others

Starting singing

Various bawdy football

Songs

And yelling various

Insults ...

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I can see you there,
Your head tilted slightly upwards,
Your hands are carelessly tucked into your pockets.
Your trainers and socks
Are tied neatly into your jeans.

Your shoulders are
Slightly hunched forward,
Which hints more than slightly
At the anger simmering within.
I can hear you screaming,
"I'm only 15!"

But in this moment, under the bus stop's sheltering grace,
I see more t...

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This belongs to everyone.

It belongs to everything.

It belongs to all who walked
Across it’s hills.

This belongs to all who told
You it would happen.
All who embrace the past
And laugh at the future.

This belongs to the dreamers,
To those who dare to believe
In a world where all are equal,
Where love and laughter will never cease.

This belongs to the warriors,
To those who f...

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I am a Jigsaw
With pieces that don’t fit
But squeezed in that tight
They accidentally snap.

I am a lake
Minus any water
Which has been scooped
Up in the air
Like ice cream
And dumped randomly
Two miles away.

I am a dream
Slipping on a beat
And a thread
That untangles
Into a storm.

I am like the
Beginning of the road
Swapped round
With the middle
Leaving you thinking
I am...

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Oxford Road train station
Asking me do I have
A spare cigarette
And I smiled ill at ease
And said
‘I don’t smoke’

He then asked do I
Have a spare can of Fosters
And I shook my head
Surprised slightly
Said sadly not.

He then asked did I
Have a
Tin of beans
And then asked
Did I have a spare silk tie
Both of which
I said I didn’t like beans
And I don’t have a tie.

With a nod,...

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The breeze blew my hair

Up in my face

And then tangled my

Bag in knots

Around my throat.

My sun-glasses kept

Falling off my nose

And my mobile

Kept falling through the

Hole in my coat pocket.

The sun was blinking

In and out behind the clouds

And in the background

I could see an elderly couple

Shouting and screaming at each other.

He was walking up and d...

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Contemplating now

stood outside that door

the past inside that room

is a portal as much as a relic

a repository of regret,

Closing what went before

into a profound revelation

a silent stronghold

changing everything

around you,

a ghost story minus a haunting

guarding its memories

preserving the essence

of a generation,

stood on the threshold

in the shado...

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Behind that door lies a moment in history
As a barrier between now and then
The door remains nailed shut.
As if were a guardian of a secret
Leaving you terrified of what lies beyond that,
Feeling the texture of its metal
Underneath my fingertips
With a slow, deliberate twist
Clicking softly in the shadows
As if a ghost still wants to break free,
Frozen across generations
Capturing the e...

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Slumbering within the icy heart of desire.

one soul consumes another

slumbering with the icy heart of desire

in the rain opposite your bus stop

echoing with the shadow of its end

as one gets on the bus leaving the other behind

a tantalizing dance around their quarry's essence.

their Heads bowed

their lives collide.

the hue of longing

against the ebony canvas of solitu...

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A vessel for the soul's voyage next
your life is a whisper of shadows
surrendering across floods of decades
heartbeats, ice rising up free, galaxies of years
silence, numbed by time
transcending forms incanting dust,
gates opening up like pslams
arms wide open in blindness
releasing ripples of memory over the soul,
whimpering, guiding onwards
stood against the tide
words crippled in fla...

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The body is a vessel for the soul’s journey

a whisperer of shadows

and the solemn surrender at the end of life

a fading star in the expanse of eternity

autumn leaves turning into winter.

each heartbeat is a fleeting moment,

a universe in its own right,

each thought a galaxy of memories and dreams,

the shroud of everything before it

woven with threads with regrets,

a c...

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In winter’s embrace, the world transforms serenely as day transitions into night, unspoken tales conveying emotions wordlessly.

Amidst this backdrop, the frozen lake comes alive, adorned with twinkling lights like a portal to our deepest introspections each Christmas.

Each light is a unique perspective bound together by the beauty of the moment marvelling at the mysteries of the universe, on...

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Over the gatepost of post-life, what unfolds next is a surreal dream, reflecting the remnants of what you've left behind, from inception to conclusion. Doorways in the constellations of thought stand sentinel on the precipice of black holes, bearing witness to all that you've abandoned, teasing enigmatic dances just beyond grasp.

Hand in hand with your past, it unfurls in kaleidoscopic hues, a ...

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The air fluctuates in tone on the windowsill as October grips the seasons consuming the fading light shaking the remnants of the summer curling its fingers around your neck before finally resting upon your chinbone.

You become part of the dusk no matter where you stand, facing the changes in front of you whether standing against an imaginary plague filling up the newspapers again or looking dow...

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Swallows-like thoughts dispense from summer’s edge
dissolving into Autumn’s awaiting embrace
following uncharted wind past coastlines,
guided by instincts older than memory,
harbingers of change in the vast entrance.

A migration woven
in a languageless tapestry
painted upon the canvas of transition,
a tribute to nature’s endless cycle
gone, enigmatic beneath the sun’s retreat
into a bo...

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Swallows like thoughts gather at summer;s edge

floating oast the threshold, shredding daylight

carcessing the sky gently like a moth’s tender kiss,

journeying to the tip of sxistence,

highlighting the ebbing of purpose

in the tapestry of the waking world,

borrowing the echo

whispering across my ears.

It holds my purpose

unburdened by motive,

our hearts joined together

...

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I pluck a star and stitch it to my essence

across the essence of a journey's end

stepping across the road

catching a glimpse of what lays next

an hourglass of memory

into a state of surrender

smoky jazz music resonates

into white noise

with a glass door laying open

profound mystery

a profound stillness

across the landscape

an eye, open

coloured in grey like a...

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My brothers existence fell into
broken fragments when they buried
him.

His worlds was always fragments.

Whisper.

Silence.

Frozen gaze.

Winter’s touch carried the gap
admist horizons.

Memories encircle memories
in the horizon.

I look at you. Where are
our footprints? Breathing
outward. Your lios inward

Here. There.

The darkness sculpts the sky’s
essence. Snow falls...

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Where was it worse?
Your breath cutting out,
then the horizon fluttering
into darkness
and your heartbeat skips a fractal
knocking on a door
spiralling into a process of panic
taking on the fear in
everybody’s eyes,
your senses first of all
pulled across the void
then the shake of your body
carrying you upwards.

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The light embraces you
traversing the threshold
shedding mortail coil
across sapphire rivers in the breath,
wandering across the essence
grasping through words
behind a display panel
touching across your memory
in the vast expanse
of lifetimes
lost across starlight pathways,
reaching for the way home.

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A hushed expanse on the edge of dreams,
slipping from clarity to wakefulness
whispering surrenders to breathe, just breathe

fragments of tales forgotten, fading away,

sounds finely tuned, a bittersweet spell,
harmonising half thought

woven from threads of what could be,
sketches of a world adrift, untamed and free,
audible in its creation, profound in its plea
a depth of yearning, e...

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Blood, dripping from my nose
over my shirt
then my shoes.

We’ll journey together.

Drop after drop. A quiet afternoon
in the embrace of tissues.

A church hymn, a scarlet teardrop.

Obedient echoes in the chamber
of veins,

everywhere, an infinity

Let the blood spill.

It won’t sing aloud
but peels into rivulets
and caress the curvature of the skin.

This air senses my un-n...

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A spectral whisper,
Mirrors the cosmos itself,
Amidst the grains of eternity,
Within inherent allure's embrace,
At the beginning of each world's dance,
And at its solemn end.

Contemplation of an elated deity,
Straddling the birth of life's symphony,
As the atmosphere forms its crescendo,
Then graciously welcomes death's refrain,
Burning hills to ash,
Over countless millenniums' refrai...

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counting the stars
he opens up the window
pouring for inspiration
inbetween breaks

severing sleep
from pale shades of dreams

crossing bridges
over the moon

twisting feelings
from memories

walking barefoot
in naked thoughts

fathomless in
the midnight breeze.

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I know I’m too old for you

With your wild, blazing eyes

And swishing hips.

 

Too old for you

Despite what your friend says

Who sits next to you.

 

I know you’re too wild for me

As you dance across the clouds

And I walk in the shadows.

 

You paint the town

All colours of the rainbow

While I often struggle

To stay on my feet in the ice.

 

You a...

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A somewhat revised version (i.e. - a fair bit improved i hope) book version of Waiting for Nancy is now finally out,

A copy can now be bought from http://www.lulu.com/shop/http://www.lulu.com/shop/gray-nicholls/waiting-for-nancy/paperback/product-22502540.html?ppn=1

Or get in touch with me directly and we'll work out the price from there.

A new sequence which i think will form Book 2 'Sel...

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I love eating them
With brown sauce
And red sauce
At the same time.

I love eating them
With mustard
As well as a good splashing 
Of beetroot
And gravy on-top. 

I love eating them
In Custard
Jelly and ice cream
Although of course 
Not at the same time.

I love eating them
In my living room
My kitchen
And on my stairs. 

I love eating them 
While brushing my teeth.

I love...

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The first time I met your best friend
And her husband
I can remember telling you
At the end of the night
I thought they were weird.

I can remember telling you
Their accents were strange
And I can remember telling you
The way she looked at you
All night like a cat on heat
Was weird.

The way they kept avoiding
Questions about where they worked
And they both laughed
At my terrible p...

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Speaking volumes with their eyes
Before the coach had even left
Let alone hit the motorway

Stabbing words echo deep
Petering on a seat
Tirelessly moaning spray haired

Oxidized in seconds
Climbing walls in a closed space
In a language not yet wrote 

Microfilmed in barely suspended anger
Snow like in a silent explosion 
Observing just one thought 

Just one sentence over and over
...

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Heading into my middle 40’s
When once my 50’s
Seemed a eternity away
Now stares me in the face
Like a door half open

Welcoming change after change
From middle aged spread
And an ever increased line
Of meds and tablets

To a constant recollection
Of stories when you were younger
Leaving you reflecting afterwards
Whether some happened the way
You say they did

Half baked in irony
...

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