Monthly Archives: May 2017

or ecphrasis

. happy couple.

seeps in like marbled water, scum on the tide.

once we touched through holes in blankets,

now we have our own demise.

a comfort in the glass, the daily. mirror.

there is a box unopened,

there was a photo

tied. there was a face set with bandages.

he chose the other one.

two pictures, some of us look the other way.

a while.




reduced, and knowing how you like your nuts, i bought them.

the small boy chuckled.

radio four this morning, suggested dropping balls ( another laugh, small child) notice that mistakes do not kill us, mortified though we can be in error.

i have worked this way a while for interest, and am still awake and breathing.

this morning i forgot a while, radio waves me back on track. i have mended

the plate, my fingers




. edge of reason .

much wenlock, on the the edge. fall over.

do not

undertake while the vehicle reverses.

careful what you dream on a cusp of night. know that all stars are not the same.

seen through the net nightly.

curtains are unecessary, there is no one left to see.

anything can happen, depends on the mood. repeat.

may go back. for no reason

or to count the flowers, list the names, then tidy into alpha, omega


file under f.



the evidence, christine

is against thee , or for thee. we are all individuals.

he said.

i present thee a truth, you see a lie.

look to history.

so i shall make a case, produce the evidence.

medical notes, broken glass. we cannot find

the gun.




look away if squeamish

do we have thought and care for the future here?

we do, though we never know how long we have.

now look away, this is a warning, content may upset.

i had a cat named prudence, she had some kittens. mum

drowned those in a bucket, and i saw. she put a lid on top,

with stones. i have a bucket just the same for

boiling clothes. never used. i have a washing machine.

prudence died, rumours of poisoning, who knows?

now look away.

one saved kitty george was mine, i loved him. he died sudden.

rumours abound.

things were different then.


avoiding shrinkage

there is no need for politics when choosing your sweater,

is there sir? no need to have an embargo on scottish goods,

they are only asking, so far.

it is best not to speak your mind when working, to have

woollen garments dry cleaned to avoid shrinkage.

i understand democracy, yet we have our own feelings.

we fold the fabric tidy, colour code and talk of our lives


look at the new coins, aren’t they pretty. will the machines

still work?

closing. music blesses us home. listen and you

may cry too.

Max Richter.



sweet, the confession

there is a need to pace about, wave the paper, move the arms. need to pause and counter act. if this reading thing will work. maybe moving eliminates the standing .

pause a while to correct the mistakes, remove the titles that are not needed. launch into space, with ideas which defy all religion.

googling I read that a perfect sonnet rules. if according to terms , conditions. you think so; if you have gone and done it properly. I understand this situation. yet some like free form verse.

wander into town while your back hurts edging into breaking. meet the one who instigates recycling for its sake and others. suggested the items, collects and delivers. meanwhile he eats the offered sweet and confesses there are more …




the story of my life

i could write the story of my life remembering all that was,

forgetting the things i forget. i couild start at the beginning,

work through to the end when it comes. it could be that way.

may be, i have already written much of it in bits and scraps

here and there. such is the way of it. some things come random.

not as you expected. i was to tell my story, you said.

i cannot be

bothered. there is no interest.

if there is, it can be googled, gathered, stitched quilt like into some


i cannot remember my granpa fondly, for he was dead a while before.

you told me your tale, silked tongue, the things you wished me to know.



no need to impress. cat piss leaves on skin leave black marks. remember?

recall the smell.

i could write the story of my life.



extreme visibility

when the air is clean, where the glass is dry.

look back , is every star venus? so.

bright. drops shine . notes on

honey. a dead bee in the back room.

i have not removed it . yet i have a paper moth

ready as a gift.

30p it was, made with cotton buds, the world

museum, liverpool.