Tuesday, 9 December 2014

Once More Missed

Goodbye is a wispy old thing

dissipating on the wind

like the dust of a demolition

or the fading of a memory.

Words don't come as they once did,

spinning threads to the future;

don't arrive with glossy sheen

or reassure, or fortify.

And when the dust settles

the wreckage remains

lying heavy, like an oil spill

over every shoot and leaf.

Perhaps my gift is silence

after the crash.

Sunday, 28 September 2014

A Different Tune

I want to be that song.
The one that pops into your head
when you ought to be humming a different tune.
I want to be your skin and cover you up entirely.
I want to be exquisite energy in your body,
make you tick. Light up your eyes.
I want to be the sea around your swimmer
soak into all of you, draw you deep
I want to be the hand at your back
the hook of your smile,
a medicine for sadness,
put uncertainty to sleep.
I want to be the cat slipping softly 'round your legs
so let me purr and get my claws in.

Thursday, 25 September 2014

Dear Sir,

Hey. I haven't been writing much lately and have been wanting to put something up here for a while. I recently had an unfortunate encounter in a dreadful mens' social club and wrote the below letter of complaint. Well, it's sort of creative writing, no?

Dear Sir,

I visited your establishment for the first time on the evening of 23rd September 2014. I had been assured by my associate of your good standing and favourable reputation.

On entering your premises and while ascertaining my surroundings, I must admit that I was not entirely prompt in removing my hat. I was remiss. Imagine my shock and consternation, however, when a fellow tapped me on the arm and told me to remove my headwear. Being an unfamiliar patron, you can surely imagine the humiliation I felt as a result of this. I estimate that I had not been across the threshold sixty seconds.

I can only assume that said fellow must have thought me vulgar or ungentlemanly but I cannot impose upon you enough the error of this conceit. I am incensed and aggrieved at the assumption that I should require educating in such etiquette, and as a result I cannot imagine ever gracing you with my custom again.

I note with some bemusement that your website promises 'a welcoming and friendly atmosphere'. May I respectfully suggest that this claim is removed as it is evidently not the case.

Yours sincerely,

I doubt I'll receive a reply but if I do, I'll post it. :)

Wednesday, 3 September 2014


You know that feeling of something you love
coming to the end you wished for
yet hoped would never come.
Today I felt that and thought of loss;
How it feels as though forgotten
is my writing and reading.
I hear nothing anymore but
the silence of the night,
hushed black and empty space,
my loss is forever grasping at a dream
and wishing I'd not woken.
Wishing for sleep and forgetfulness.
Looking for ladders and lying with snakes.
Resigned to an end but for that one
good, pure thing, holding me here,
saying what if? what if
there was a will or a way
and what if there was peace
peace from this waiting for the end.
You know that feeling when you're just so sick
but there are things to do.

Sunday, 24 August 2014

It's not me; it's me.

Tonight I'm fighting with a mood.
Well, fighting's not the right word.
It might be a best to say I'm lying,
perhaps in a worn-out hammock
that is, difficult to get out of gracefully.
Or maybe I'm a boa constrictor
and so is my bastard temperament
and we are locked in a morbid embrace.
I really don't know who'll break free first.
Sometimes I get smothered
in a deep and desperate resignation
like a lover outstaying their welcome
and who can fight it
and what is the point
and where is my darling
But it's not her fault
and she can't help me anyway
I will put down my head and wait til morning
when a new universe might gloriously emerge
or someone will look at me just right
or the postman might come.

Friday, 22 August 2014

the presents

a shoulder
a hand
an offered elbow
an eye for beauty
an ear for bullshit
perennial poems
admiration always
undying affection
invincible hope
all the songs I ever sing
and every one of our stars
These are my gifts
since I can't send flowers
in return for all the love letters
from admirers of others.

Friday, 15 August 2014


Heartache's like a pain in the head,
Sharp, persistent and sends you to bed.