Colin Galbraith

Biography

I am an Associate Editor at The Scruffy Dog Review, a literary journal of fiction and poetry, and I have published short stories, poems, non-fiction articles and chapbooks in both print and online publications. My first chapbook, Fringe Fantastic: The Poet's Experience of the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, was published in December 2005 to critical acclaim. Poolside Poetry (and other tales of Cyprus) followed in March 2007. I have published three e-books of poetry; Brick by Brick in April 2005, Silly Poems for Wee People Vol.1 in March 2006, and Selektion in May 2007. I live in Edinburgh with my wife and daughter. My website is at: www.colingalbraith.co.uk

Samples

From Fringe Fantastic... NATIONAL PORTRAIT tattooed warriors in kilts and sporrans chant in time to ancient beats to drums and skirls they dance and jig in the shadow of the National Gallery on the door of which a small sign reads; quiet please FESTIVAL TV in a coffee shop by St. Andrews Square I sit in the window frothy coffee in my hand behind me the staff shout out fast orders to clear the line of thirsty customers people pass the window and sometimes they look at me, looking at them like a silent movie a moment to relax from festival bustle the street outside like festival TV LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT I saw you standing, watching, like a portrait with eyes, that follow me round the room I look around to make sure it is me you set your gaze on or if I am but one of many I move closer see the beauty in your eyes pearls of blue diamond shining crystal clear your longing kindness reaches out to me your virgin aura pale skin, white as milk pulls me in, helpless I’m falling in love entranced by your power I drift towards you drop a coin into your box you curtsy and smile then look away I feel used like you only wanted me for my money I wish you would look at me just one more time the way you did before From Poolside Poetry... EVENING ON THE BALCONY like a throbbing ear infection the tree insects call out every night at dusk a rhythmic gyration of grating chords echoing throughout hotels and gardens streets and hills thousands of them all in time like a well-trained army of invisible beasties DROUGHT writing on my notepad beside the swimming pool a drop of sweat falls from my half-burnt nose I never felt it transpire no inkling of its intention it hung for several moments like words trapped in my mind splash! blue-water ink runs over my scribbles like a drop of the Med on drought-ridden land G-STRING IN THE WRONG PLACE attention suddenly distracted old fat woman with silver hair bends over by the pool topless she leans forward pink g-string cutting in breasts swinging low it's a view I find strangely compelling and it's this above all that scares me most

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.