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SCRAP update

Apologies but due to ill health I have been unable to continue writing until recently. 'Scrap' is now available to download in full from Amazon at just £1.

Unfixable

A story of a relationship that happens every day

Eyelids

A look inside a world any of us could end up in

The Masks That We Wear ~Chapter One

In a post-apocalyptic city, emotions are frowned upon by dictator striving for perfection. A revolutionary and an artist meet in the turmoil, together paving the way to victory or ruin

quest

short poem

Newborn.

You will think you hate me, but in truth you will hate yourself, for i will show you the monster that lies in wait within you, the depraved creature that you truly are.

From a White Rabbit

The first little days of Summer could be the dark expanse of biting Winter, for the harvest is bare. When the physical world is shaken the spirit pours forth. You,
Gold cherry

At East Village

I suddenly realize that I can’t remember the names of maybe half, of maybe a third of the women I’ve been with. This is a problem.

At Old Capitol Books

Before we stopped talking, she quoted Hunter S. Thompson in an email. Plenty of people express mild thunderclap when it is revealed that I’ve never read Thomspon. So did she.

At Griffin Plaza

The problem being her shoes. I don’t get them. She is wearing a gray t-shirt that probably once belonged to someone else, its screen printed ink faded and flaking and missing, in spots.

An inspiration

Standing. Standing still. The wind in my face. A chill down my spine. Watching. Waiting. Waiting for that moment. The sun going down. A beautiful sky.
Gold cherry

L’eau du Jardin

On these greener days he concocts stone soup. There is a hustle-bustle, a precise science in his stone gathering. The blunt dig-zing of trowel scoring at crust,

old lady winter

wintertime down south

obsession

love poem

my love

love eternal
Cherry

a poem for the torn cat's asking

Church-jackals, church-mice, pious pillars, choir-urchins, and other sundry minions all all still chafing at the chapel (as if caught in some medieval time warp;)

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