Boys, Girls and Alcohol and Random Things (Poetry)

Poems based around that ever-so-original theme of ‘love’….


You saw
And rang 999
With a dialling code
In drunken disarray
Not knowing
It would later
Be broken down
Into a bite-sized story
Adapted accordingly
For those who could
And could not
Take it
Or comprehend it
Three sisters
A wife
And you watched
Through lager-hazed eyes
His beautiful hands
A life
A life.




I sit and think About the tape I made you And the books and shuttlecock You’ve left behind. I wonder how I couldn’t reciprocate When you did all you did Made music for me


I want to feed you Spoonfuls of my heart Each day Until there is nothing in me See you swallow it down Like medicine Pink mouthful by pink mouthful Until the spoon gleams clean

An Antelope With Issues

There is no romance in you Just cold hard truths No risks or dares or promises Just box-ticking stories let loose There is no taking a leap with you No gushing message, no midnight wink

Beryl The Peril

Beryl The Peril Remember when we met And smoked a spliff And ate bad chips And talked about your dead dad In a Sam Smith’s And looked at a hotel You’d like to stay in


The eggs should be boiled Shells bashed in Yokes exposed to the sun The bread should be A tiger loaf And not toasted There should be No cups of tea...

Bridge End Gardens

They met Under the non-existent beady eye Of a headless stork In ornamental gardens At midnight Perfect hedges shrouded them And he tried not to think About the wedding ring That lay quietly

Chinese-Burned Heart

You gave my heart a Chinese burn When you said you didn’t want me You made it dead and fit for an urn Because you put it so bluntly. It transformed...

Ode To Lager

Lager, I love you And I dream of your bubbles There's no wrong you can do I forget all my troubles While I'm sipping on you Getting bloated and fat I start craving McCoys

Ode To Red Wine

But lager thou art not a patch on red wine Which similarly I guzzle most of the time Full bodied or light, it goes down so well A pop, a glug, a swish, a smell

Ode To A Hangover

So its clear at this point That alcohol and I Have a special bond - We don't have to try But by far my favourite Part of the deal Is the very next day When it all gets surreal.


Hideous beauty And the red chains break As the silent waves wash over the sand, Cleansing. The white walls are crumbling, And the light streams through, The thousand holes.

The Hog In Armour

So, I tried again And slipped, it seems Out of my own skin, Into someone elses, Into yours Into your house, your tragic life Your blood-red room And single bed I threw myself


We sat supping cheap pints Awkwardly on low stools Faces warmed by an open fire Various Louises' on the wall


I want to climb into the cave of your mouth And explore, explore and keep on exploring Be closer to your lips, your teeth, your tongue Stay in that sacred place until morning.


I'd kiss you I'd kiss you endlessly And when you got up to leave Graciously I'd keep you Keep you here with me And stroke your face And tell you truthfully That I don't think anyone's

I Won't Grow Up

You know how when you get older You’re supposed to be grown-up? You’re not supposed to still want to play Lego Or drink out of a Mister Men cup. You’re supposed to build a career

Leather Apron

As plain as his name above the door And the burst capillaries in his cheeks Waldren was the landlord And he still made a profit most weeks. He polished the bar each morning

Jam Jar

You took my lid off Peered in Poured in A little bit of you. All day, clouds and sky and birds Passed over my lidless head Like a boiled egg With its top discarded, in the bin.

Eye Test

When Mr Chin Leaned in And frowned Flashed his White light Told me To look right Then left Then into the corner Read those letters Behind me He said I looked Past his head


When they came together They found that there was nothing That the other didn’t make better If she’d never left the BBC If he hadn’t followed in the footsteps of his family

The House of Seb

He enters his church - the Routemaster Breathes in the comforting smell Slips into a pew - front seat, top deck He knows this church so well. The windows are fogged with condensation

Out of Sight, Out of Mind

You slated my sketch You fell asleep You cried for an ex You weren’t very deep You wore real fur You didn’t eat. You made me go to Milton Keynes You slated my poetry

Ovis Aries

It sat there glistening Pink, red raw, naked One sad eye bulged And seemed to gaze at the morning sun As commuters trudged past Grim, relentless Bits of chewing gum and fag butts surrounded it

Smitten Sid

He shuffles in


What do we want for ourselves? When we think of love? How do we feel about it? How do we judge? What benchmarks actually matter? What words do we...


It’s hard to believe That birthdays And blood donations Could bring two hearts together And suddenly set in motion What would soon become ‘forever’...

Launderette Lil'

Shutters up
Pick of the Month

At sea with you

I want it to happen again I want to wade right out Into the middle of your life No raft, no float, no arm bands

In the kitchen again

I would start cooking again for you Re-label the spices, re-read the books Use every single pan From every single hook I’d start setting alarms again...


You are that hard stone in my heart now Right at the bottom That makes itself known Every time I have to hear your name Or see your face That stone...

The Scales

If we could walk back over cracks Cement them shut Tie things up Neatly like that - like a plastic bag Would it be bad? If I could rustle up the...

Bath time

Like some great crushing snake filled with the burning heat of the hottest hot water bottle you’ve ever known. Enveloping you so slowly at the start...

Proposal poem

I was hiding quietly in my single life In a perpetual state of too-many-pints All jaded sarcasm and predictable cynicism None of it seemed right 60...

Friday nights

Staring at a plane with you in awe As if we had never seen one Or been on one before And couldn’t even dream how that might feel Like watching moon...

Night bus

Entering the hidden cathedral of my mind Through the back door of nostalgia On the 159 From Trafalgar Square to nowhere Across the Waterloo bridge A...


You were palm-sized when you arrived Wide-eyed and wrinkled Spent every day from then by Angela's side Enjoying all things simple We called you...