Loam
You are the tree that grew inside me
when I swallowed your stone whole.
When I spoon-fed you with silvern words
you rooted in my deep.
Each morning I’m reborn by you
polishing the dawn till it blossoms in pink.
Exchanging moss coated whispers
our rain softened glances trickle between us.
I am grafted to the notches on your spine.
Spiralling together, we reach for the light.
Cal...
Thursday 29th May 2014 12:04 am
Preen
The room brimmed
with her pale heat
lapping through my winter.
Dare I touch this dance
and stuff my pockets full of hope?
Parcel my fears
in wax paper and twine
and wait for them to unravel.
Pic - Cormorant Drying Wings. by Geoffrey Bickley. Sculpture: wood
Friday 17th January 2014 1:41 am
Bottling
He digs and drills so deep
that foundations may well crumble
Bottles himself away in lonely
lines of ribbed blue glass
upon some lop-sided shelf
The handwritten label, applied
and slid square with the rest of the world
The contents sealed in
wax from the neck down to do their time
Do not operate the machinery
Please comply with dos...
Wednesday 15th May 2013 10:23 pm
digger
I will
Form into an black shell
Slime on the window.
Curl an ending
in an air trap
Monday 22nd April 2013 7:53 pm
Never -
Fear
Back down
Say die
Surrender
Never land
Say never
Walk alone
Give up hope
In a month of Sundays
Do that again
Press the red button
Mind the buzzcocks
Say never again
Let me go
R...
Sunday 7th April 2013 2:17 pm
Review - Das Auge Im Eis, neogallery32 Bolton
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...
Thursday 6th December 2012 4:55 pm
fall
rott ing
birch es
like to
bacc o
summ er
fall ing
green now
yell ow
so man
y oaks
so few
a corns
Tuesday 18th September 2012 7:01 am
The Dark Cheeks of KD Lang
It must be the march of the brave souls
of the drawing of the truth
of the giant magnet
of life itself given here
under my skin.
Hope, dark and thick
always through a narrow time
Oh, and the constant hunger of wisdom
always hungry, always have been
Thursday 12th July 2012 12:32 am
Camsol
Thousands line the streets
just to glimpse the torch
waving their green ribbons
donated by BP
The Official Oil and Gas Partner for London 2012.
Tuesday 3rd July 2012 4:56 pm
solemnity
Once you had your images.
Cardiac tamed by the smile
behind the name.
Secrets that you’ve
hymn drawn
to your later
arrow eyes.
You are my pen
after the punishment.
Once you had your heart,
But it came out garbled.
Saturday 16th June 2012 4:58 pm
A Garland of White Roses
Back again
Head down
Scrubbing the ball
furiously on his flannels
A little sweat off the brow
onto the hand
and
onto the ball
Four men up close
A scowl at the batsman
Hawke goes forward
and he’s caught
Cowdrey swooped at it
Up went Trueman
Up went the crowd
Stood to him
Cheered him
And as Hawke wal...
Sunday 27th May 2012 1:57 pm
Easington Colliery
They strain towards the light.
Blinded by a death
in black and white.
Stood in a puddle of water
its darkness climbing legs
like sweet peas.
Tickling those hardened
by the tenebrous earth. Photograph by Keith Pattison
Leaching tears since ’51.
...
Saturday 28th April 2012 10:49 am
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