The Little Daisy

The little daisy wished it was

like a sunflower; tall and strong.

Tired of getting squished, it was

by boots of big brutes,...

Visiting the Burrell Collection

Whispers and murmurs;

distant doors creaking;

feet softly scraping;

a low electric hum;

a man coughs;

a child...

Out of Control-3

" Where have you been?!" shouts Keri.

" I needed bottle service like yesterday!"

Keri was another waitresses/bartender at Eden. She...

This machine kills fascists

'go to sleep you weary hobo'
but the boxcar's full of folks
cussing, smoking, bragging, fighting...


Hands clasped
And breaths rushed
We are on the precipice
Of the unknown
In front of us
Stars swirl in galaxies...




P K Routray

Rhythm beatifies dance and music,...


we all are graced by birthmarks
often called an angel's kiss
sometimes they are quite subtle...

He eats a bacon sandwich like Stalin

He eats a bacon sandwich like Stalin

Shovels it all together pointlessly, because it’s what he wants to do

he can barely chew it...


Red Ash

All has passed by, Simian

a sun dog casts the wreath

the chain of damaged daisies


The Grane Bonsai Tree

Contorted windswept solitary sits the Grane Bonsai tree

Curiously twisted, contemplated throughout Granes history

Was nature the...

The Criminal Inside Me

re-reading the scanned item list it occurred to me that the last item had not registered. I skipped a breath and concentrated solely on my...


Pachyderms and Dwellings

The language of this land
keeps changing all the time
but for every new word
we can always find a rhyme.

The purists may...


What brought you to the Silence

what made you choose this place

Did you arrive by way of forest

or perhaps through mountain...


Sunday at Musbury Tor

Where the mists blur the line between the earth and the sky

where men carve their names in the grit stone on high

Young Reuben...


The Morning After

His eyes opened and for a brief moment he thought he’d died in the night and gone to hell. He sat bolt upright. Big mistake, his head started to...

The Abbottsford Police Chronicles – John And Mary (Part Three)

At shortly after twelve thirty Bill Overend and John Holt were seated in a relatively quiet corner of the George and Dragon.
John had barely spoken a word since they left the station.
Bill chatted idly about nothing in particular and waited patiently for John to unburden himself.


The Cillit Bang guy is