Autobiography
Ten snapshots of the past reviewed whilst drowning
a motley collection of 10 random memories written in different styles.
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Thursday Sonnet: Paris
Paris, Paris, I have not come to light Or spin you, I’ve not come to sing la Senne, My throat seeks no refreshment from your night And I’m not asking where to go or when.
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- 956 reads
Compassionate Leave
A painful shift held together with smiles, Ones that make your face ache And your hands shake, While you’re taking orders. Awkward conversations with a manager, Or a friend,
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- 729 reads
Já Amor Tebe
About a close friend who died this week. He was only 18 and I am so lucky to have known him x
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- 1007 reads
Dolls' Packing
Every year my family and I went camping, invariably to Cornwall or Devon.
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- 932 reads
THE DAY THE INTERNET DIED
A ruthless virus, dressed as a security guard, got it in an art gallery(busy stirring a cup of coffee) with a tommy gun blew it to hell (hotmail and Facebook and Brittanica all at once,
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- 755 reads
A POEM FOR PETER HAYES COYOTE
It was good to see you, man not like cool great good more like real, soulful good Well, I feel like hell: I'm sure you do too sometimes Looks like we put our perfectly good quarter
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- 560 reads
Tuesday Sonnet: Huzzah!
Scared of me? You bet! I've seen your tragic Castles and the holes beneath your cuirass. Paint me stupid – I am full of magic, Bright like stuff of dreams, as warm and true as
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- 604 reads
My 'sister' Debbie
I have a 'sister', she is big And also an insufferable prig; Five foot eight, with her five foot feet, Red in the face, and packed with meat.
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- 655 reads
Masterpiece
i want to fuck your creativity make love to your beautiful mind corrupt every thought you ever have with my cock and cum. help you force out the darkness onto the page
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- 669 reads
Just Words
this room smells clean it's not home but for now it will do. the hum of the extractor fan smothers all other noise except the sound of fingers on the keyboard. my window is two stories up
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- 733 reads
Chocolate Kisses
ugly, heavyset curtains block the light from passing cars the kettle boils as the TV lights the room i lay naked refreshed clean
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- 770 reads
Captive
So much light and colour - and the promise of spring. And it feels now as if nothing in this life will be as perfect as this moment ...
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- 7455 reads
An Ode to Two North Psychiatric Unit
(note: I originally wrote this piece years ago, after my first stay in a psych ward in Medford, Oregon, USA, which followed a rough stay in a jail) This place isn't exactly heaven:
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- 1907 reads
Empty
The earth below my feet, grounds me to my reality; it shoulders the rocks within my life.
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- 1069 reads
Dragon at the Window
An aged woman, currently living in a sanatorium, struggles to escape her past and present.
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- 325 reads
Attempted note to a stranger on the coach
A belly-full of flirting – and looking back posts are knocked into the ground at equal distances and look at me leaning back against one of them – smiling and referring back
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- 345 reads
AFTER MADNESS - CH 3 - 2
When I was fifteen I had a flashback in Wigan High street.
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- 656 reads
Daffodils
We lived in a cul-de-sac. A modern 1960s-built sort of square dead-end. Our house was embedded within the square or rectangle of houses which sat around a central patch of grass.
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- 1641 reads
On the Bright Thread of Time
On the bright thread of time I am nobody’s child On the bright thread of time I am not your mother But some kind of kindred spirit With the power of a larger body
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- 1449 reads
Tuesday Sonnet: Immortality
“When I am gone, I shall not be the dust That licks your soles beneath your steps wind-borne, Nor yet the thread of ash that, shorn of lust And reason, trails the mantle of the storm;
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- 582 reads
Keepsake
nostalgia again..sorry
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- 8 comments
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- 3060 reads
Where the hell have you been? Part 2
Yes, where the hell have I been? Again.
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- 1390 reads
Trompe L'Oeil
When I saw him, the night before, he looked his usual size.
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- 3639 reads
An Insomniac's Dawn
The hands of the clock wave stiffly through the small hours; a lengthy, bitter goodbye. I sit in four-cornered dark, so awake yet wrapped in a shroud that slowly slips from black to grey.
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- 7826 reads
Tenth Anniversary.
Dean and I would have been together ten years yesterday - the sixth of March - bur we split up, so it was also the end. I can't claim not to be upset, but when its over, its over.
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- 652 reads
Monday Sonnet: Hope
I’m asked to write of hope, a subject which Resists festoons of metaphor with almost The same propriety as death. Foremost Among the skills that make a poet rich
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- 616 reads
Love Reborn
Someone else gave birth to me, but someone else gave me life. God chose them just for me. . a lonely husband and wife. They had longed for a baby, but there just could not be.
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- 429 reads
Myth of Narcissus
...I grow impatient for spring.
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- 5455 reads
Crisis of Faith
Life has a funny way of catching up with you, for better or for worse. A nun who survived Auschwitz confronts her demons and lives happily ever after.
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- 707 reads
Turtle Power
blah just read it and comment.
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- 1086 reads
AFTER MADNESS - CH 3 -1
I had a lot of problems fitting in as a child. I was terrified of doorways, upstairs and the thing that would come and get me. I'd seen it.
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- 612 reads
Keep Wales Tidy
While snow-topped mountains blazed
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- 641 reads
AFTER MADNESS - CH 2 : 2 - Relatively Speaking
My older sister, Sandra, looks just like Margaret did at the same age. It is quite scary. I don't look like any of them. Thank god!
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- 663 reads
January 30th, 1649
She dips her kerchief into a pool of still-warm blood. It is the holy blood of the king and it will stain her cotton lace. Giddy at the sight of it she pushes through the wailing crowd,
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- 1804 reads
The Key Ring
Turning out a messy drawer I came across this little piece of treasure.
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- 889 reads
On Speaking German
A Stückchen of almost-lunchtime poetry!
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- 1177 reads
Untitled. Think of one later
I shouldn't be here. You should. I should be dead. Forgotten, and buried. It wasn't your time to go, yet you took the stake for me. Why?
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- 870 reads
I am a Ghost.
I fear I have become but a ghost, echoing invisibly in the background of your life.
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- 850 reads
THE THING
This is a poem about "The Thing," the thing which hides in great poems till you put the page under a microscope, and it flies away on devil wings and turns into a bat under the full moon,
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- 774 reads
Egg
I knew from an early age that my life would never be easy, but the last couple of months have definitely been the worst.
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- 789 reads
Bitter Taste
Burning to tell, but I can't let myself speak...
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- 1576 reads
This Momentous Day
This, after a first feverish night in hospital.
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For S
A testimony to a certain kind of bright electric company.
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- 377 reads
A Mental Rejuvenate
You ignite your life an the world is your own You bottle life up until your safely alone You have a laugh an you try to get on But your crushed and depribed and framed in the wrong
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- 587 reads
A Major Breakthrough - My Story
Within the past week some pretty amazing things have happened to me. Not externally but internally... I'll start by telling you my life story...
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- 1194 reads
ONCE I FLEW TO THE EDGE OF THE UNIVERSE
"Rome didn't matter, or come off - But heaven and hell did." The Fall
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- 683 reads
THE POET'S CURSE II - SELF-DOUBT
I sit here in this attic room I strive to write, I'm struck by gloom; With self-doubt I ceaseless wrest To know I'll never be the best. Words and thoughts rise in my head,
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- 2117 reads
First Desolation Then A Joyous return
After almost a year of recurring illnes and hospitalizations I'm feeling like writing again. my first tentative steps back. A Tetractys and a Triolet
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- 1843 reads
Fairy-girl of my memory
codes that will never be broken, like chain.
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- 1128 reads
7:25am
Same time, every weekday.
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This is the kind of thing you would like.
You're not there by now and these stalks are out on eyes although I am supposed to not think this You me you me you me you you you The plastic roof we pressed our hooves on -
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- 1474 reads
Her Prayer Mat
Green, the colour of Mohammed. Green, the sacred colour of paradise. Its tassled edges fringe the niche - the mihrab - that points the way. The arch-shape,
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- 1471 reads
I Have A Friend
I have a friend who I have known Since our pebble-picking days Since a bird's cry, a rain-shower Could wash all our fears away Since we learned to tie our laces In a big, unwieldy bow
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- 984 reads
22nd FEBRUARY 2009 - blog
JUST SHOOTING THE BREEZE.
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- 713 reads
some sort of rosy something
Nothing like the bitter split that scarred my heart. Rejection letter repeating weakness breaking me apart no mental flip , where i undo. The one that i should kissed
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- 592 reads