Cherrypicked stories
Consider the birds in the Winding Gear of Lancashire
Confounded letter
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- 5 comments
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- 2521 reads
Long ago & far away in a room of glass
Confounded letter
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- 1733 reads
Last year it was Halcyon perhaps
Confounded Letter
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- 1122 reads
Yesterday then was a Criticism of Mountains
Confounded letter
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- 1152 reads
Cydonia - One
This is the first part of a longer piece, currently sitting at about 13,000 words in 7 parts. I'm not sure at the moment if it's something that I want to expand further or to leave as it is.
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- 3 comments
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- 1254 reads
With Love
What will it take?
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- 5 comments
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- 2618 reads
if only
on reading Coleridge’s ‘the Aeolian harp’ while listening to Norman Cook’s remix of ‘brimful of Asha’
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- 2 comments
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- 1582 reads
True Love
Okay, I have the tendency to pick the wrong guys, but now I hit the scales big time even by my standard.
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- 1 comment
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- 1560 reads
The Cork
I put my thumbs under the rim of the cork and push ...
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- 2 comments
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- 1488 reads
Robert Mugabe Came To Dinner
The Captain and Mia are back and Archie is trying to start a game. ‘What four people would you invite to a fantasy dinner party?’ ‘Oh I love this game,’ says Bea.
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- 3 comments
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- 2307 reads
Date.
And it is coming round Like the pointed arms Of that dancer on telly Tick-tick-tick I know it's a nasty programme But I was moved. Although you are now Twenty girls ahead
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- 1030 reads
Open Letter
Words of magic in the high street.
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- 4 comments
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- 3412 reads
velocity of rest
This is a poem that attempts to think 'scientifico-poetically'; a bit like Einstein without his amazing sense of metre! I couldn't think what category this should go in.
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- 2 comments
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- 1715 reads
London Snow
I went to sleep alone yet woke to find you next to me. The white room was filled with an unnatural brilliant light as you broke the morning news, framed at the bedroom window like an arctic fox.
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- 1 comment
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- 1936 reads
Sleeping in the Library
Sleeping in the Library The house hums a harmony of children settled in their occupations and rain taps drumming thrumming fingers on the roof tapotement a heater makes the air drowsy
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- 1754 reads
Ode to an Age Old Struggle.
An experiment for me; my first sonnet. On love, art and science. (written in the Alexandrine meter). feel free to critique...
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- 6 comments
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- 2423 reads
They cannot make it alone
"Love ya lots babe, ur da best"
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- 1363 reads
Forever Jaded - Chapter 3
Richard sighed as he gazed up at the white whisps rolling across the sky. The clouds were different shapes and colors; some gray and long, some white and small.
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- 2 comments
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- 1169 reads
She died I think,
poem,version,editing,
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- 10 comments
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- 7169 reads
Legal Fees
Could almost be a plot-line for a Victorian novel...
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- 1 comment
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- 2008 reads