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January 2018 Collage Poem: A New Life I

Birds in nests, delicate bluebells

Thrive in demanding abundance

 

Nature takes its course

As the animals go wild

Overcoming your insecurities

Whether swimming in lakes or crossing gateposts

Catching ghosts in the shadows

But you must let them go.

 

Run through the wind

And John said "Oh dear! Oh dear!"

 

Lozenge lawns running through the winds

 

He is ...

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Collage PoemJanuaryNew LifeStockport

September 2017 Collage Poem

Boxes of snore, law and war

Old soldiers in days of yore

 

Endless revising for the school dance

Go West across the park and guess

Who Fred could be

 

The black lab drags behind

Whilst a parrot swears

The social workers say it's OK

 

Not that I'd wish it on his people

But isn't it a shame that Kim

Can't have the wrath of Irma -

Or was it him that caused it...

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Collage PoemFred WestSeptemberStockport

July 2017 Collage Poem: Old Photographs

 

An apt public hanging, packed treasure

Not like mine

 

The past zooms into focus in blow-up

In camera obscura

 

No-one spoke,

And the silence said volumes

 

Spuds and carrots and don't forget

To pick up the horseshit!

 

All sit in Domino rolls

I never told my students of stories

Waiting to escape

 

Pictures of matchstick men

Waiting to escape...

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March 2017 Collage Poem - Internationalism

 

Blue enchantment, starlight pallette

Nazi visions of underworld clowns

An evening of art, newborns, and profanity

The clown is still king.

 

The bubbling, squeaking sound rising

Shaking in a frantic situation

Blood swept under a script

I saw the fox and he saw me

 

Creatives of the underworld

Bleed out onto the page, voice rage

We sit in a kaleidoscopic wom...

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August 2016 Collage Poem: 'But a Dream'

 

Iron bird, place the peg

On your nose and press your hair

Pale Beyonce dances

Uncertainly with clowns

 

Blonde power Olympic salute

 

Curl your fingers around mine

On a dancefloor of angels

I am so angry that those lies

Still dominate those folks

 

To cut into the last horizon

Fragmented thunderstorms

 

I was scared to death

 

Clicking heels

...

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August collage poemStockport

July Collage Poem

 

Sombre words, rigorous debate, helpless giggles:

Poetry lives. Don't play out, girls and boys:

The moonlight is dangerous!

 

My ambition to be described as: "Never mediocre"

 

Sleepless shadows on chintzy walls

Kiss of life was full of passion

Pity it was only a fish!

 

They recede, like wounded soldiers, into forests

Swathed in mist. Mask of beauty, height of...

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StockportCollage Poem

March 2016 Collage Poem

These words capture our emotions
Bruising the pain into happiness
Stepping into shadows of unsolved mysteries
Shine our milky moonlight up
All you need are hands
And all mankind is displayed within them
Great memories of yesterday
Terrible things happening today
Casual sex and skinny-dipping
Is worth a trip
Little one small step for you
A big one for mankind
Bla...

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Collage PoemStockportStockport Art Gallery

May Collage Poem

Tense reticence, the kiss of limbs

for Hanging’s biggest fan

 

Free and easy

Scattered island red

Poll blood hundred to the dozen

 

The long, elastic tug-of-war of love

 

Forgive me if I did not understand:

Lord, may my faith grow ever stronger

 

A voice cracking on the radio,

Giving some sort of verification

That the static’s home.

 

I know that it’...

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June Collage Poem

True tale of invitation at an early hour,

To rhyme or not to rhyme?!

 

Are we antique if we park where indicated?

Teddies and teapots, soft sleep suits, downy duvets

 

This is one passage that I will pass

 

Antique books; antique folk; antique buildings;

And the greatest antique of all – poetry.

 

A giant poo stuck in the loo

Place is now and the ...

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StockportCollage Poem

Recycled Prophesies (January 2013 Collage Poem)

 

Recycled memories

Fall like snow

 

Smothered across

Degrees of memories

 

Bits of paper flutter

Along the pavement

 

Get to work, boy!

 

I would like to wish you all

A really nice, safe new year

 

Taking stock of empty boxes

Mrs Browne is a mean old witch.

 

 

 

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StockportJanuary Collage poem

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