The tree had a skirt A fine robe of gold Of fire It blazed When the sun rose It was clear And misty beams Allowing radiant halos The tree had a skirt It was the finest in all the woods Sometimes it would gloat Though not much really
Time stalls A glance at an old life A dying way Colours as graded sepia The mountains lay With heads in clouds And bead work patterns Crisp and clean Uncertain and serious Fathoms deep On youths that Now are dust on the air Stories of wilderness It was once there I stare into dark eyes […]
A few years back I launched The Little Book of Spoogy Poetry – I did this twice the first was for the ebook and the second time for the actual physical book. Here is my daughter reading parts of the collection. The book was initially written for her only and then I added a few […]
You think that because I pour my feelings on to the page, that I can not really feel. You think that shallow self aggrandisement leads me to this. You think that in sharing my pathos is divided. You think wrong of me, misunderstand the need to express to self, these hidden bits. You misquote how […]
The fighting monsters dance As if life long partners Graceful, instep – aggression Lost in the fluidity Of movement Monsters together After all only a monster Can ever truly fight a monster Now they are locked In an eternal embrace.
How many ghosts wonder these halls How many souls lost Echos of the now And remembrance of the before Locked in the fabric Matted to the core How many iterations Of tragic moments flow How many yous How many mes How many us-es That were or could never be? Dark turbulences Caught knotting it all […]
If I am gone Iron butterflies will adorn my grave Do not mourn freedom to run Without pain Soaring through a world Of coloured warmth Existence’s tunes thrumming a cord To climb out of this life Through a gate of light Becoming iron Swimming in liquid sun The butterflies wings Beating out ordered chaos My […]
The images of the city where obscured Distorted, kind of hidden But the pieces where there The arches and cafes Gun turrets and cigerette smoke All the Romes that had ever been Over lain and synched A slight misalignment Gave delicious snapshots On occassions the warm twilight shifted Showing the city as it could be […]
Writing from Art The Wilson Gallery Cheltenham March 2017 The street loomed in the silver light Or rather it lurched as it luminesced Moon beams reflected a muted rainbow Just at the edge of perception A reflexion of it’s own subtle glory Hung distorted in the river’s ripples A lonely figure wrapped in trench coat […]
Writing from Art – a visit to the Wilson March 2017 Red tiles, over red brick Some more orange, others dirty brown The roof top sagging Under weight of baked clay Keeping assorted timber dry It warped and yearned Until men built of muscle came Sweat slicked Even in cold grey months They move and […]