Caution: Indoor Use Only

Concrete Womb

2011-11-16T11:03:00.002Z

The ex-service men demands
the cenotaph
be cleaned
be forehand
be stripped of moss and grassy stems
that reach towards the heavens end
those tiny arms from a concrete womb
new life seeded
will be removed too soon
As water jets strip from them
their resting place
once again
under-fire
and pulled from root
another death
another dispute

Erection Intent

2011-10-24T10:05:00.000+01:00

Instructions for Erecting Tent

1. Unpack the bell tent and poles, pegs etc.
2. Lay out the ground sheet and canvas as flat as possible.
3. Locate the entrance and place it in the direction you want your tent to face.
4. Peg down the two peg loops on either side of the entrance with a peg to secure its position.
5. Now go round the base of the tent, pinning down the other loops with the pegs following the edge of the ground sheet.
6. Locate the central pole; Take the central pole inside the still flat tent, locate apex of tent and push the pole up into it, push up the tent until pole is vertical.
7. From the inside, place the smaller ‘A’ frame pole in the entrance taking care to secure the base of each leg in the foot pad provided (on groundsheet).
8. The tent should stand on its own at this stage. If you haven’t already done so please peg all loops down that are around the base of the tent or groundsheet (not guy ropes).
9. Attach all guy ropes to the loops provided on the canvas walls.
10. Starting with the front guy rope, peg it loosely out. Continue with guy ropes either side of the entrance; then the 3 at the back of the tent. Next work your way around the tent pegging down all guy-ropes. The idea is to evenly stretch the canvas to ensure the “load” is the same on all guy ropes.
11. Next you must tighten the guy ropes in turn, follow the same procedure as in step 10. The canvas should be stretched evenly when finished.

Stand back and enjoy your newly erected bell tent.

Mid-Summer Dew

2011-10-03T16:21:00.001+01:00

Words are too tensile to twist
when they are hung on the washing line
incite to insist
The wind at its leisure can take
for its pleasure
syllable and vowel
t-shirt and tea towel imbued
with mid-summer dew
A line keenly constructed
pegged out then abducted
by nothingness pushing
right through
and
you
used to
dash out in the rain
to save once again
my words from a sudden down pour

Sea-buckthorn

2011-09-28T12:04:00.002+01:00

Spurn point has a muddy majesty
a spit of sand and shingle
earnest estuary
brushed with Marram grass
and holy Sea-buckthorn
her trust eroded
but seldom torn
There is a pilot light
for her crashing doubt
a simple magnitude
hollowed out
Lies and lines are lost north east
Where eroded truth creates her beach
and I am tide to her fragile fate
a liar bound by his shallow strait

Daytime Sketch

2011-09-21T13:49:00.001+01:00

I ache as my defences rise
and your faint fumes consent
This artist wears a daytime sketch
longing to rework events
Sleep pulls another paperback
across my eyes
Postcards falling free
written on
and left behind
memories of light
you took with me

Earmark

2011-09-18T17:17:00.002+01:00

No one is true unto you
except the one you love
Emigrate your heart
Pierce that sadness
with veiled desolation
Borrowed from a glass envoy
Hiding to please
and pleasing to hide
Following cheap press
Watching oil lurch
like feelings across
hijacked phone lines
I sit
I wait
I hope
that you will earmark
my dishonest wreckage
with a dressmakers flourish

Neglected Purity

2011-09-18T10:53:00.003+01:00

Catching the moon and barring broadcasts
You bend exceptions like a casual visitor
constituting rumour for the suited young
Those teenage views reveal my deepest ruin
Muddy friendships and crisp thinking patterns
query the backlog of secrets I hold
easing them nominally
and officially
One fifth countryside
Four fiths sunrise
into the open theatre
and you - The vital target
bid for a thousand temporary colours
on my neglected purity

First Class

2011-09-11T21:22:00.003+01:00

To the ticket collector at Maghull Station
and the Penguin selector in Lime street
Flash me your camera eyes
you hometown tourist
Put your hands to mine
against pink stained glass
Examine graffiti with me
as we dodge Blackberry users
scallies and townies
out on the lash

To the sender of books
and collaborator of letters
Unlace those laughter lines
caught under umbrellas
Walk me through past glories
unearth your history
You're a living postcard
mailed directly to me

Scottish Wool

2011-09-11T11:28:00.000+01:00

You lay honesty out on my sofa
like an infra-red remote control
Precaution turns you over
permitting me to see you whole
and in that treaty of purple and green flesh
metered deep under chalky skin
a pulse rises to the surface as if to breathe
out from your wrists again
Then tending eyes follow and trace
as I examine this gift in full
and salvation lines your sumptuous folds
wearing choral Scottish wool

Island Getaway

2011-07-24T21:55:00.000+01:00

The emergency services lapped up against her
Ships raiding the rocky shore
Pulse just a sheet in the wind
Water in her lungs rock-pooling on the sand
mixing with blood and cordite
Helicopters and news reporters circle above
buzzards waiting to pick off their prey
One by one by One o'clock Special
Live from this island getaway

We navigate this gently shrouded wasteland
stalking barefoot victims with
Camera crew and microphone booms
Scope out the same terrain
like a killer might do
setting up a line of sight
stepping over wreckage
sim-cards washed up on shingles
Shooting pot shots in the rain
Live from this island getaway

Ex

2011-06-19T20:22:00.000+01:00

I catch myself sometimes
typing your name into a search engine
Spelling out my past
like I'm filling in an application form
for a position I already hold
- that of an EX

And all I saw..

2011-05-28T12:01:00.003+01:00

MOT

2011-05-25T22:40:00.000+01:00

Respirator in one hand
overnight bag in the other
filtering fluid movement
through a lollop
and palpitation
You enter the open bay
wheels parked between the lines
Time has beaten the life out of you
All those exhausted cars
and balding tyres
those steps once taken in twos
now evade the fittest fitter
I watch the receptionist check you in
and the doctor entrenched with spotlights
spark up his welding gear
goggles pulled down
operating to make you road worthy
for another year

The Honeymooners

2011-05-03T21:00:00.000+01:00

Pastel blue
fades to lemon yellow
Crossed by a faint white line
A honeymooners vapour trail

The lucky two
who planned their escape
to sunnier beaches
with cleaner hotel rooms
and more channels
to different bars
with similar cocktails
and a balcony view of

Pastel blue
fading into lemon yellow
crossed by a faint white line
the honeymooners vapour trail

Christmas 1987

2011-04-16T22:19:00.018+01:00

I was young in that photograph
The first wisps of what my mum called 'bum fluff'
was growing on my top lip.
I wore an ill-chosen, tight-fitting casual sports top
with collar pulled up at the rear
My hair brushed back and blow dried
I looked 'trendy'
It was all the rage!

I was young in that photograph
maybe 14 or 15
and next to me
knee to knee
my grandfather smiling
his glasses worn into his face
like a helpful tattoo
marking visual age
A packet of half-smoked Players
in his breast pocket
and a gold band on his wrist
edging in an Italian tan
Dressed in a blue shirt and slacks
he sits there proudly laughing out towards me
from Christmas 1987
Caught
Frozen
Forever
and on his knee my younger thinner sister
smiling with closed eyes at the happy new year
we were about to enjoy.

Out of Fifty

2011-04-10T21:04:00.002+01:00

It was the longest
single-span
suspension bridge
You were the longest
single-span
suspended teacher

In the April of my youth
an Easter crucifixion
over the embankment
into the cycle lane
Those railings don't bear your name
No bench to mark your leap of faith
only a newspaper clipping
and my memory

Did you look over that barrier
out into the Humber
towards the faces in the mud flats
and draw parallels to the
classroom window
and those muddy flat faces within?

I remember you noticed me
once
giving me five minutes
out of fifty
asking me to repeat a phrase
you had spoken
I stood fixing
my broken French in front of you
and then the laughter started
muddy faces and bad behaviour
Did we push you over the edge?

Now I'm the teacher
and much older
I cross over the bridge to work
sometimes I think I see you
standing looking downwards
towards the muddy faces
lost in the stream
and I remember those five minutes
out of fifty
and repeat them to myself again
je m'appelle Barry

Auto-erotica

2011-03-17T11:35:00.000Z

Hand brake firmly pulled back
Engine switched off
Car door opened
The petrol pump nozzle
is tipped in plastic
An empty credit card slot
awaits my input

At the opposite station
Number 4
A tall
brunette
leathered
jacketed with knee-high boots
submits her card

I stand gorping
but slowly
unscrewing
the cap to my petrol tank
Overhearing her sighs
as the digits tick
steadily upwards
on her one armed bandit
as it pays out

Entering my pin
I picked up the nozzle
it was eager
She glanced over
A little petrol seeped out
I quickly pushed it into the tank
and pressed down on the trigger
unloading a gallon

Gazing back to the flicking digits
I notice her mounting her car seat
one leg securing her balance
the other cutting a shapely negative
against the cars pale interior
I withdraw the nozzle
as spent fuel dripped onto the forecourt
as her car pulled out of the station
driving away

This is not evidence

2011-02-23T21:54:00.004Z

This is
This is not
This is not evidence
This is not evidence of being
This is not evidence of being happy
This is not evidence of being happy with you
This is not evidence of being happy with you here

This is not evidence

Waiting Room Only

2011-01-26T12:27:00.003Z

Patience wait here
in the arc of oversized chairs
heavily padded and wooden armed
Seated to the left
anxious frail faces lean forward
worry lines
white nails
her head in her hands
his hand on her shoulder
as two stage extras
exit the theatre
Intruding on this scene
a man glances down
flicking through
but not taking in
appointment letters
he reads the reviews
taking his temperature
His wife in heels
black cocktail dress and furs
pounds on the coffee machine
that's just eaten her coins
he rises up from his book
too embarrassed to look
as the nurse calls her name
And I sit in this circus
waiting for you - dad
wondering how did you get to their age?
and how long it would be
before my hand is on your shoulder?
or my fist pounds that coffee machine?
or those extras
walk out that theatre
and talk to me
about you?

Blue Wednesday

2011-01-15T11:30:00.003Z

I used to meet a friend
on Wednesdays for fun
then I didn't
and I was blue for a bit

House Hunting

2011-01-11T11:52:00.001Z

That two bed terrace in August
A stone’s throw from a flea market
My ex-girlfriend and I
peered through
net curtains
greeted by a green carpet
and sunburnt patches
scorched by cigarettes
waiting for an unknown occupant - Me?
The letterbox view
from a widescreen PVC door
showed no hallway to speak of
or runway for air mail
Beyond which
a tasteless Arabian arch
presented the Kitsch-en
like a leather bag strap
over her shoulder

We were house hunting in August
Checking out the market
Arranging viewings
This was the last on the list
An empty yard to the rear
A Reeds-Rains flag on the front
Could she love me again here?
or was she just helping a desperate man
cling onto something and nothing
relieving the trapped guilt
because she too had been house hunting
checking out the market
and arranging viewings

In Pearson Park

2010-12-16T14:12:00.010Z

Oh Bunny
Sit with me
in Pearson park
Let's watch the
summer grass grow
From safe inside
a stationary car
we can steer
the seasonal show

Oh Rabbit
Wait for me
in my defrocked flat
opposite a three bar fire
and bruised cricket bat
Filling starved shelves
cataloguing poetry books
incomplete written verse
and super-imposed looks

Oh Hare
Play with me
in my mushroom bedroom
where comforting bodies
ease and roll upon each other
like Henry Moore sculptures
watching from the fireplace
in abject squalor

Friendsreunited

2010-11-27T14:52:00.003Z

Tables touch those pages of a book
decorated voices not verbs
Friends became strangers
school conscription ended
now we are seated
in pocketed pairs

Age has taken us
and shaken us
up
drawn lines on our faces
enhancing folds that corrupt
The comfort of security
shadows waistline
and obscurity
giving the appearance
of a quarried keyhole

Presenting a facebook facade
we've peeked and poked
our way through
twenty years
without knowing
never mind
speaking
to

Northern Sky

2010-11-26T17:02:00.001Z

The field was vast
in front of me
its emptiness
for all to see
Wheat as high
as my waistline
walking through
an act of crime
and no-one there
to commit that scene
of vibrant hues to memory
That northern sky
and southern land
only a foreign child
could understand
Echoes rest in adult minds
and emptiness
we leave behind
And now I find
I've always been
lost in that field
unable to scream

New Shoots

2010-11-22T18:03:00.001Z

Spring tricked me into thinking
it was here all year
I barely had time to make plans
when off it ran to distant lands

Summer left a band on my wrist
etched a tan on my arm
gave the energy of youth
and confidence to act
without fear of contradiction
or weighing up the facts

Autumn stole those plans
coloured my whiskers grey
receded my hairline back
time decided not to stay or send
now i'm further from beginning
and closer to the end

Leaving only Winter
that cold thief of desire
to breathe mist into the air
stoking my snowy ceasefire
turning the earth
pitchfork and frost
to let new shoots push through
another year is lost

Without You

2010-11-20T14:46:00.001Z

Without you I am an empty vessel
Without you I am a needleless thread
Without you I am day without light
Time without passage
Love without longing
and energy without aim
Without you I am broken
and you are the same

Your Left

2010-11-12T10:50:00.001Z

Opening a drawer
my fingers
pushed aside
the broken necklaces
and old currency
Buried
within the emptiness
lay half a heart
cluttered against
paperclips
and drawing pins
I reached to resuscitate
but it was too late
Pounded and beaten
it perished
years before
waiting for reunion
Placing it back
Bypassed
amongst the oddments
into that desecrated plot
an upturned memory
of my right half
and your left

Broken Before The Dawn

2010-10-23T21:47:00.002+01:00

In the stubborn night it came
fleeing from the old school cane
while I drown in sleep without a wince
my waxing eyes did seldom mince
along the empty corridors
in the shadows of wooden floors
wishing and shouting out its name
I hid my dignity in disdain
Fear and terror melt my sheets
shaking beneath these cotton pleats
and as I flee down corridors
the stubborn night unsheathes its claws
piercing the sky with lucid stars
that lights and marks those deathly scars
of childhood play in abandoned glee
one stubborn night in January
Every chased footfall is absorbed
in those empty corridors
unknown routes I cannot trace
leave me alone to embrace
the damp bedding in which I lie
waiting for the day to cast its eye
upon the window in my lonely room
and end this stubborn nights perfume
No defence against the morning light
I am pursued against my plight
and have to pay a thousand times
repeat on blackboard a thousand lines
set there by old and young
who come to gawp at my lost tongue
as I excuse my current fate
quoting bible passage I negate
the perfect naked body exposed
accidentally before the close
of this stubborn night is sworn
and I am broken before the dawn

Fishing Line

2010-10-06T09:53:00.001+01:00

Stand in line
Hold your place
There's barely time
to leave a trace
and I will be
forever caught
in your fishing line
and hauled on board

Red Pen

2010-09-29T09:50:00.000+01:00

Red pen checks
Red pen corrects
Red pen makes you think
Red pen runs out
and fades to pink

Reading Typefaces

2010-09-28T09:58:00.001+01:00

All that's left is a typeface
12 Point Arial - Bold
flashing up behind a cursor
doing as it's told
All human forms of contact
have been denied at source
just mechanical
interaction
exchanged for Norse
I submit responses with longing
that you'll re-engage soon with me
not leave me reading typefaces
when it's your face I long to see

Stripping The Sheets

2010-09-27T18:54:00.011+01:00

Like Tracy's, mine is unmade too
with yesterdays jumper pulled over its base
a mobile phone cable snaking across
hunting for a Samsung to mate with
or devour
no cigarette ends or pin-hole burnt knickers
used condoms or flickers of artistic genius
It doesn't entertain gallery visitors,
cynical historians or curators
It's not signed and
embroidered
with the weight of art history

The white, creased, stuffed duvet
won't answer directly
questions regarding which movement
it belongs to;
man-made or natural fibre
It offer up its warmest side
for visual tourists to photograph
but they are not impressed
with this second hand installation
"anyone could have done this" they say
as I'm stripping the sheets
for the wash

Visual Harmony

2010-09-15T21:07:00.002+01:00

It's raining and you're not here
so I don't talk about the rain
It's sunny and you're not here
so, I dont talk about the sun
When you come back there will be snow
but we'll have no
time to talk about that

If I get scared and you're not here
I don't talk about the fear
If I get sick and you're not here
I don't talk about the illness
When you come back there will be security
but we'll have no
energy to talk about that

It's art and you're not here
so, I don't talk about art
It's music and you're not here
so, I dont talk about music
When you come back there will be visual harmony
but we'll have no
time to talk about that

Perfectly Preserved

2010-08-22T21:09:00.003+01:00

When I'm dead and gone
will you put me where I belong?
not six foot under
or headed with a carved stone
but in a glass tank of formaldehyde
on a plinth
in the zone
Preferably placed perpendicular
in the Tate Modern Turbine Hall
where visitors can rest their eyes
and debate art
its rise and fall
Let them question who I once was
someone so specially submerged?
the perfect pickle perhaps?
perfectly preserved
For is it every artists aim
to extend himself beyond
those clichés painted on canvas
or words recorded in song

Have Knots

2010-08-21T14:18:00.001+01:00

We tie these knots of hope
in fishing lines and shoe laces
in signet rings and hiding places
in vows we keep and promises broke
We ties these knots of hope

We ties these knots of longing
in middle age acceptance and teenage hunger
in elderly compassion for solitude
in eyes fixed with belonging
We tie these knots of longing

We tie these knots of loss
in wood panelled rooms with broken cups
in friendship given with no demand
in sacrificed words we may come across
We tie these knots of loss

Middle Managing

2010-07-28T16:19:00.002+01:00

If before me
there was him
and after me
there was him
Then what am I?
A dividing line
An intersection
A middle man
aging..

Gentle Substance

2010-07-26T16:18:00.004+01:00

The sofa is impressed
its cushions bouyant
A three seater
made for two
high backed and low slung
we lifted our feet
for more than a vacuum
Thighs drawn down slowly
and dotted
A gentle substance shaped by hand
the tender pressure you employ
upholstered me
front and centre
My fingers frame your face
and your eyes insist
a further impression be made
by my lips

Banksy's Cat

2010-07-23T21:07:00.002+01:00

Sandals and knickers
and other nit pickers
live down leather lane
between the cameras and cobbles
we struggle and hobble
sight seeing art in the rain

Umbrellas and soft hats
Banksy's painted cat
Turn the place over
posing with penguins
stairods and thickskins
in the musty museam odour

Photographs reflect
Department derelict
marking moments in gallery doors
Chesterfield chairs
camera lens stares
at those Liverbirds searching the shores

Missing Top Button

2010-07-04T16:11:00.012+01:00

Casually worn
a tie round my neck
no longer uniform
patterned or check
Missing top button
holding my shirt in place
threaded gaping hole
open and shut case
Without you to join
my left and right
to pull me together
or dress me down
I'm split in two
missing top button
to weave
both sides of me
together

The Art Show

2010-05-27T13:14:00.002+01:00

Cutout this stencil
It's such a relief
to lay down squarely
and press it beneath
your taut nylon frame
with paint dawbed and pooled
waiting to be pushed
expecting to be pulled
through the gauze
to dry in the heat
of your breathless art show
sprayed up on concrete

Discernably Distant

2010-05-18T21:26:00.001+01:00

I see
Looking now
the fragility in my father
The gray hairs
once saturated with colour
now thinly curled
around his head
offering little protection
from the beating sun
That confident stride
crept away
leaving nervous control
with each step
An active mind
caged in an inactive body
Smoke captured in a glass box
Looking now
I see

I hear
Listening now
My father's voice
the tone
once discernibly distant
now mellowed
patient
deliberately delivered
Words I can finally receive
without wrapping them in guilt
or suspicion
Relinquishing control
with each exchange
those doubts
Screams captured in a glass box
Listening now
I hear

Abandoned Spaces

2010-05-03T22:45:00.004+01:00

There are no secrets
left to tell
only doubts to expose
hidden away they multiply
without removing any clothes
Grown in the dark
too slow to see
too fast to hide
those abandoned spaces
we keep inside

Niave

2010-05-03T16:23:00.005+01:00

That word hurts
it debases my thoughts
holds me to ransom
five crumpled letters
leave me deeply creased
and unsure of myself
of where I stand
and what I know
Are those letters
ever used affectionately?
with warmth or love?
or purely
to demote
and dismiss my view
then pale my understanding
with ridicule?

Quench

2010-05-03T16:21:00.001+01:00

Loss
is the worst form of torment
cut from the same
cloth
as emotions that you bare
A sudden end
to the sentence
left
hanging in mid air

Depth
increases pressure
it circulates the blood
turns your face
in to meet itself
to defend
all it could

Safe
I would rather be uncertain
than to half my life
Removed
by a phone call
There is no thirst
you cannot quench
deep inside of me
Am I left here to fall?

Nursery Rhyme

2010-04-16T19:28:00.008+01:00

Hold you're breath
Hold you're breath and count to ten, again
Keep counting til the hiccups end
then start again

Take your time
Take your time
and take some of mine
I've got more here if you need it
for this nursery rhyme

Lay your blame
Lay your blame
and make it rain today
After the thunder storms
we'll come out and play

Monopoly

2010-04-09T18:20:00.000+01:00

In an open secret
we're alone together
two constant variables
in English Weather
with even odds
in a rolling stop
I'm the hard place
to your soft rock

Measured Squarely

2010-03-27T16:48:00.010Z

Our friendship has a gate
that lets the lover in
Constructed on the lawn
as the summer begins
Untreated planks of wood
placed top to toe
measured squarely
bearing our load
crossmembers nailed
down tightly
nothing could come between
the flanks of devotion
partitioning this seam

Then when winter came
the gate was sturdy
whiplashed
against the elements
those tightly placed planks
once expanded now contract
The crossmembers held
wood against wood
nail against grain
gaps stretched from top to toe
which weren't measured squarely
but still bore our load

Second Breath

2010-03-15T16:46:00.000Z

If I only had one hand
would it feel lonely?
If I only had one ear
would I hear the loneliness?
If I only had one breath
would I speak of being alone?

You are my other hand - holding
my inner ear - listening
my second breath - speaking

I'm no longer alone

Silent Remark

2010-03-14T16:36:00.003Z

I don't believe
or want to accept
your words
I'd rather you punch me
than ignore me
rather you slap me
than deny me
A punch
A slap
A bruise perhaps
some physical mark
instead of a silent remark
left purple and black
hung in the air
swung from a chair

Out Running

2010-03-09T13:55:00.000Z

Tie me to your whim
dressed in tartan
and late night screams
The silence you reject
is too loud to let go

You pull out all the stops
break with the past
ignoring all you've got
it couldn't even last
I can't tighten my belt
there are no more holes

Standing on the fields
cracked earth beneath my feet
Young and afraid
of the life yet to meet
Burdened by the dreams
I couldn't outrun

Patti Smith

2010-03-06T14:38:00.001Z

You thought you were Patti Smith
posing for an album cover
concentrating on not giving
away a blindfolded gesture
Doubtless there were times
when your frown slipped
when your cross became
your crucifix
and your unkept hair
would weigh you down
because the night
was your last sound

Sandwich Shop Workers

2010-02-23T21:34:00.005Z

Serve me in a sandwich shop
a bad start for an ex-student of mine
Reflecting in the glass counter
my face and then his face
"Which filling, sir?"
I click and pick
His eyes flick back
recognising me
We exchange greetings with coins
Two sandwich shop workers
my fillings are academic
but no more nourishing than his

Hung Out To Dry

2010-02-20T17:00:00.002Z

Be careful where you lie
the bed is not always made
sometimes you'll be forced to
leave before the first dawn breaks
because you don't know
exactly where you're going to
you're just knotting rope
as you cast your line out
into the shell-shocked blue

Confidence can cope
when it's boosted to the top
before it overflows
into and out of the abrupt
Then legs apart
your weight pulling down
leaves you and gravity
fighting in this town

Family strains and maintains
the blood lines you can't draw
Dried cinnamon on the shelf
Broken glass scattered wide
upon the floor
don't attempt to pick up
it will leave you blind
Then the ripe Orange Sun
two-faced in the sky
will strip away your eagerness
and hang you out to dry

Still 17

2010-02-15T17:39:00.002Z

I know I'll not be ready
when you get round to me
nor will I extend
a hand to greet gracefully
The trespasser
The unwelcomed thief
who steals time from beneath
my eyes
adds wrinkles
and whispers lies
"You're still 17"

A Captive

2010-02-12T16:58:00.001Z

...and there you are
right where I left you
A captive
Held hostage under plastic
Leatherette
Face pressed against receipts
Under cash cards
Business cards
fake facades
You stare out at me
a stone fragmented
without sparks
Where am I?
Right where you left me
...and there you are

Trees on the Westwood

2010-02-03T22:13:00.000Z

Shaped by the wind
blown brown ink
stains
and strains
the morning sky
adding a crease to the paper dawn
jutting out over the Westwood
a living repeat pattern
repeated
repeatedly
across the landscape

Here is a Flower

2010-02-03T17:52:00.006Z

Here is a flower
between my fingers
green and selected
from the summers finest
harvest
Opened wide
by your morning eyes
slowly to the veiled sun

Here is a flower
reaching up
to cup your smile
Chosen to echo
the shape
of an upturned lip
Moistened
by the first words
of the day

Here is a flower
to weave
into your hair
Between your fingers
and to anchor
yourself to
the ground
should you float away

Bob Dylan Portrait

2010-02-03T16:10:00.002Z

George Harrison Portrait

2010-02-02T10:56:00.004Z

Tom Petty Portrait

2010-02-01T21:30:00.006Z

Jeff Lynne Portrait

2010-01-31T18:50:00.001Z

Self Portrait

2010-01-31T18:49:00.003Z

Bux Portrait

2010-01-31T18:49:00.001Z

Losing My Voice

2010-01-12T10:20:00.000Z

Right click and close
no compromise
No sitting on the fence
or seeing both sides
No discussion or allowances made
Ctrl, Alt and Delete
Reset once played
Stalemate or Son?
Is that your choice?
He won't make a move
I won't lose my voice

Man Out of Time

2010-01-02T17:15:00.004Z

Watch your step accidents will happen
I can't stand up for falling down
I don't want to go to Chelsea
I want you watching the detectives

Good year for the roses Alison
Everyday I write the book "Clubland"
Shipbuilding indoor fireworks
What's so funny 'bout
peace, love and understanding?

Pump it up beyond belief
High fidelity baby plays around
Radio, Radio Oliver's army
It's time 13 steps lead down

Don't let me be misunderstood Veronica
Love fields complicated shadows
Loveable party girl she let them all talk
From a whisper to a Scream
Monkey to man
Tear off your own head
All this useless beauty in New Amsterdam

White Line

2009-12-07T21:32:00.000Z

Huddled, muddled and puddled
we struggle down this road
those every day burdens
become tomorrows souvenirs
carrier bagged emotions
rinsed hands
dried tears
and there you were
as I slowly drove by
keeping warm on the bloodied kerbside
under a duvet a policeman provided
tucking you in
to the white line created
those carrier bags ripped
egg shelled on tarmac
your bleached blonde hair
finality brushed back

Sixth Form

2009-11-29T19:07:00.002Z

12.30

The sixth form staffroom
is filled with silence
Tutors are booking
timetables and ticking
maths tables - correcting
Thumbing through supply catalogue
supply teachers
finding another lesson to cover
p.58, questions 1-5

12.40

The colour photocopier sits
humming and whirring
waiting for it's orders
online it blinks
I'm online and ready
then after clearing it's throat
it breathes a click of relief
and rests in standby mode

12.50

Keyboards are tapped
Deliberate and angry
fingers punch out
disgruntled observations
to placid parents
who lead their child off
to be educated
forgetting that you can't
lead a horse to water

1pm

Easy chairs which aren easy
for 10 minutes
and hard after that
sit glaring out towards the door
If only their four legs
could carry them to safety
Sadly they've been told
to keep "four on the floor"
more times than they can remember

1.10

...with that the copier hums into activity
called to do his duty
printing orders
as the mobile phone
is too called out of standby
little keys are text typed
and numbers
partially erased by greasy
lunchtime fingers
"send" and standby again

1.15

Next lesson

Meating

2009-11-20T09:50:00.008Z

You skewer through me
bleeding electric
on the brightly lit
supermarket counter
Who would ask such a thing?
and who would answer?
Price tag that question
discount the reply
accept our frustrations
demand and supply

Definition

2009-11-19T09:58:00.000Z

There is a difference
between guilt and guilty
sin and sinner
between treat and treaty
beg and beginner
but when defining words
it's hard to forget
the difference between
love and regret

Pastime

2009-11-14T09:55:00.006Z

Below is an evolving list of things I do to pass time,

1. Brush and polish scuffed shoes
2. Wash the mountain of soiled dishes in my kitchen
3. Struggle with my cumbersome vacuum cleaner up the stairs
4. Stream American television shows across the internet
5. Doodle on the back of ripped envelopes
6. Create surreal artwork from cloud formations
7. People watch from cosy coffee house windows
8. Admire the single flame burning on my gas fire
9. Delete junk mail from my email account
10. Push the draft excluder to the bottom of the door
11. Make polite conversation with the checkout assistant at the supermarket
12. Separate coppers from silver in my change from shopping trips
13. Be consumed by rain fall bouncing off the street in a shower
14. Analyse the content of other peoples shopping baskets
15. Tear the perforated edges off the side of my wage slip
16. Sort and recycle waste material
17. Inflate the tyres on my car to the correct pressure
18. Mark off used days on my calendar with a felt tip
19. Check receipts from shopping trips and compare with given change
20. Sleep during the day
21. File paid utility bills in an old shoe box
22. Adjust all the clocks for Daylight Saving Time
23. Alphabetise my compact disc collection
24. Sort by colour my books
25. Listen to Jehovah's Witnesses subordinately on the door step
26. Open and close window blinds in rooms I don't use
27. Collect and catalogue fast food flyers and junk mail in blog format.

I never pass time with you.

A Fisherman's Hug

2009-11-14T09:29:00.000Z

In the train station
anticipation arrived at platform 5
giving a fisherman's hug and
carrying a small overnight bag
filled with longing and
crumpled curiosity

On the hospital ward
we watch staff restock the halls
their blue uniforms replenishing
the adjustable beds
I wait to be scanned like bruised fruit
You comfort me in soft scents
not undelivered or returned

In the terrace house
between the exposed floor boards
Footfalls ingrain Liverpudlian dirt
trapped in trainer tread
as longings are unloaded
onto soft cushioned sofas

In the parked car
aside the soft Larkin verge
knees clasp together
miraculously divining water
Falling for fast shutter speeds
of digital lenses
you turn your face to look at mine
and I see you hiding there
for the first time

Two For One

2009-11-10T18:46:00.003Z

Close your eyes
Close your eyes
and count to ten

Hold your breath
Hold your breath
then breathe again

Turn your back
Turn your back
I won't be gone

Hold my hand
Hold my hand
I maybe wrong

The Journey

2009-10-31T18:47:00.003Z

I almost locked the car
without turning to
the empty passenger seat
to not see you there
tightening your belt
Facing the autumn heat
And how you worried
about how you looked
and how I looked
at how you worried
taking you further
down that street
making the journey
indiscrete

Between The Lines

2009-10-23T23:52:00.003+01:00

I sit back and watch
The comfort of a deep armchair
takes the strain of the day
My eyes relax upon your soft frame
and you sit reading before me
a paperbacked book you bought
from a hard backed shop
Your eyes dart from left to right
right to left
scanning each line with a nose twitch
and occasional scratch
a nod of acknowledgement
and a murmer of recognition
greets my ears as you turn the page
Those pupils become heavy
with word and phrase
but you keep on with your quest
Who dun it?
The plot thickens
There are no spoilers
I can't tell you
what happens next
I don't want to give it away
but I've read between the lines

Embittered Age

2009-10-16T19:28:00.002+01:00

The air conditioning is pulling at my teeth
I can taste the gun metal beneath my tongue
and those sterile choices laid before me
like a closed test paper I'm waiting to sit
little reward for not falling into debt
or maintaining my weight on a modest income
This celebrity status eats at my longing
I hunger for an unwanted break
from the arrogance I exhibited in '91
eighteen was such an embittered age

On Edge

2009-10-14T23:17:00.001+01:00

Pin me up
against your legs
Black shrink wrapped
allow my hands to submerge
beneath that cotton stitch
creating uneven forms
underhanded and overlegged
On edge

Pin me down
against your thigh
between a nylon/lyrca weave
Make me watch your hand
beneath that cotton divide
pushing mine into place
fingerspaces and foreign forms
On edge

Barefoot

2009-10-14T21:05:00.007+01:00

You walk in the kitchen
Heated imprints are burnt
into the cold ceramic tiles
reminding me of a calf’s skin
after the farmers branding iron
but this shape is toned
and delicate
no forced hard edges
are seared
upon a soft cattled back
These squares cushion
and leave a trace visible
until the fridge door opens

Snoring

2009-09-29T10:47:00.000+01:00

Did I snore?
just then
I heard something
Did u?
Guttural
I was just falling
drifting
Then
I heard it
The noise a tongue makes
as it's falling down a throat
The noise a sniff makes
as it's drifting down a nostril
Startled
What!!
Was that me??
No-one else is here!

Did I snore...?

I Want You (ode to Adrian and Elvis)

2009-09-26T11:39:00.004+01:00

I want you
to finger space yourself between my words
I want you
to not stop giving when you reach two-thirds
I want you
to fill my palms with your Hoffbrauhaus skin
Without you
I wouldn't know quite where to begin

I want you
to devour the worry that has worn me down
I want you
dressed for bed in my stolen dressing gown
I want you
and your silhouette against my bedroom wall
Without you
I'm sleeping in the room at the end of the hall

I want you
to drag a sonnet with me through the earth
I want you
leaving tracks of beats and fields of verse
I want you
to pick me up on every spelling mistake
Without you
I’m a stone shaped by a coastal brake

I want you

I want you
not weather proofing your feelings with me
I want you
grabbing at clouds that criss-cross this territory
I want you
to re-create and re-create this need for you
to want you
I'm scared you don't want me too

Being Ten

2009-08-18T18:50:00.000+01:00

Who pushes my fingernails out
when I'm asleep at night?
Who keeps pushing my hair out
when mummy turns off the light?
Who stretched both my legs
over the summer holidays?
Who gave me this deep voice
before my last birthday?

Who is in there?
Come on out?
I like my baby teeth
So stop breaking them out?
Mummy said it was “Addy Lessons”
but I've never seen you at school
I've looked for you in maths
and the biology room

I'm going to stay awake tonight
and catch you once and for all
before you pepper my face with spots
and make me lanky and tall
Then I'll lock you in my memory
you won't come out again
because I don't want to be a grown up
I want to be small and ten

It's Not Easy

2009-08-15T21:12:00.000+01:00

It's not easy to have
be part of and with
someone who's given
all they can give

It's not easy to lose
a kick or a bruise
a sensation so fast
it's lost in the past

It's not easy to replace
a smell or a taste
that scent or crossword
she spoke you misheard

Only A Lover

2009-08-10T19:58:00.002+01:00

You touch a nerve
only a lover
has the nerve to touch
and say the words
only a lover
has the words to say
That nerve
Those words
That touch
That say
only a lover
loves me this way

Patchwork Quilt

2009-08-03T23:51:00.001+01:00

I lay on the sofa with you
sewn up in a patchwork quilt
My arm
Your waist
My hand
Your back
My lips
Your lips
and we lay on the sofa together
sewn up in a patchwork quilt

Restoration

2009-08-03T21:36:00.010+01:00

Stacked under stairwell
packed parcel tape and cardboard
this cluttered staggered recess
protects windows steeped in pain
Frame reclaimed memories
of a relationship
stripped of restoration

Lead clings to glass
Amputee when the saw bites
I look through again
Did we strain
and stain ourselves
on this muted divide?
Craftsmen cannot revive
the burnished red of your face
nor would I want them to

Lay Before Me

2009-07-27T23:59:00.002+01:00

Lay before me with a warmed milk back
which dips and curves beneath my hand
"Still"
Now let my arm straddle you
like fingers over a fret
and release a note that I cannot forget

Lay before me with your trousers undone
casual white slip revealing innocence
*Stroke*
Now my lips caress you
like they do over a wine glass rim
pouring this Australian rose gently in

Lay before me with searching eyes
which stare solidly into blue focus
shhhh...
Now let me see further into you
whispering those shared thoughts out loud
Keeps me laid here before you

Stippled Words

2009-07-26T23:53:00.002+01:00

Walk with me on the tarmac
unlike sand it leaves no trace
Who is to say we where here?
What proof can be offered?
A few stippled words left in a book
well thumbed postcards dated by stamp
A return rail ticket not returned
and photograph taken at arms length

Walk with me on the grass
indent each blade with our presence
Who is to say we scattered our path?
What proof is offered that we where here?
such as a longing kiss from soft lips
or a knotted touch from tender arms
we leave our scent on shoulders and necks
to help us return to that time

Walk with me on the bedroom floor
carpets will cushion your feet
Who is to say we laid in this bed?
What proof is offered that we where here?
scented pillows and bedlinen
folded clothes on travel cases
soft tones in whispering voices
only our arms and legs interlocked

Soft Back Arches

2009-07-25T17:47:00.003+01:00

Submerged in the pillows of friendship
offered up open eyed to the ceiling rose
Framed and angled your face meets its even
with breath that cuts through and underscores

In the creases of t-shirts and trousers
forced passionately into second hand sofas
the sacrifice of soft lips and drawn blinds
taking refuge in a Californian zinfandel

Arms shake as they scaffold around you
balanced in the darkness above those eyes
undulating under the weight of torn connections
as I move gently to meet you inside

You inhale I exhale and the impression
between us is equalled then sustained
linen which separates your figure from mine
is bruised by swollen consuming urges

Covered in static we lay earthed and sockless
our limbs folded into soft back arches
then the imprint you leave on my shoulder
aches to be copied over and over

Sticky Fingers

2009-07-10T17:50:00.000+01:00

I'm a curled over
bitten off
bit of sticky tape
that stuck to itself
on the underside
of your desk
wrapped around
waiting
for your nails
to edge up against me
scratch at my layers
come underneath me
and separate
then straighten
I still cling
and fold around your fingers
caressing and
enclosing them

The Blood Test

2009-06-20T11:40:00.001+01:00

Electronic doors
automatically open
Symmetry of the sellotaped
"Catch it, Bin it, Wash it"
posters reassure
this converted
Victorian day room
where a serving hatch
has been inserted
it's stationed and supported
by blue uniformed women
who dispense appointment times
and prescriptions
on folded card

Checked in waiting for check up
I listen to the drumming clock
My heart limbers up to meet
each tick
each tock
matching resting pulse and beat
like runners in a relay race
This isn't going to hurt
tick
This isn't going to hurt
tock
I won't feel it
tick
I won't feel it
tock
It's just a scratch
tick
It's just a scratch
tock
Then a pinging noise
breaks my stare
signalling me to room five
The test is about to begin
I wonder if my blood will pass - easily

Cross Your Heart

2009-06-06T11:21:00.001+01:00

I could be your secret support
if you'd only cross your heart
not a velcro understudy
clasping behind your back
but an underwired expert
endorsing a soft impact

MP3

2009-05-28T19:20:00.002+01:00

They're all at it
All on the take
Stealing from the taxpayer
downloading real and fake
Expenses
Expenses
Ex
Pen
Ditch
Chair
For him
For them
For those
For her
Submitting weekly allowances
into the illegal database
Searching by song and album
flipping residence and space
Distributing the wealth
keeping it in the family
saved to hard drive
driven hard out to sea
Creating the seedy cover
the reason not the rhyme
Typing out the lyrics
Playing the party line

The Press Conference

2009-05-28T10:29:00.003+01:00

Mobile phones and microphones
will record and retain
any event and evidence
left open to chance
Hardcopies will be printed
and reviews
both good and bad
will be minted by whoever cares
to put their thoughts down here
- Just as I have

Green Fingered

2009-05-26T14:51:00.000+01:00

Someone uprooted me last night
and slapped me on the back of a pram
a gravelly voiced stranger stole me
and now I don't know where I am
I was sitting 'round the corner
Look!
You can follow that trail of compost
That's my mulch he dropped on the pavement
it's kidnapping without the cost
I don't have any stinging nettles
or thistles with spikes to defend
the stealing of plants from outside houses
is an increasing criminal trend
My friends in their hanging baskets
disappeared from across the road
leaving only a swinging chain
outside their detached abode
I'm in some foreign garden
without my view of the street
or posty to drudge a hello
as he barges past me in the heat
I don't know if I'll be replanted
by a weed or runner bean
or if the light fingers who lifted me
will turn into those of green

Spoon-fed

2009-05-22T19:36:00.002+01:00

Green custard and chocolate squares
those were my childhood nightmares
Rows and rows of Bunsen burners
left alight with Mangleworzels
Nature tables to rake over
scoops of mash and tapioca
This is what school was like
before health and safety
sheathed the knife

Now clip-on ties have replaced
a childs knotted belly ache
Excursions have taken their last trip
renamed and rebranded incase of lisp
Expulsions have been suspended
only in the short term
because of insurance
claims
and the need to learn

"Alternative Provision"
is the guiding mantra
all shoe laces tied
and "every child matters"
Nuts have been squirrelled away
fruit and veg for their five-a-day
and all that's left is spoon fed
reading, writing and time for bed

Next Available Left

2009-05-20T19:26:00.003+01:00

COnceRTINA cubist car
inside packed with worn clothes
crammed into cheap charity airbags
Two centrally locked strangers
criminally exhausted
argued with a lamp-post
silenced

Outside
police bleed yellow tape
around the street
closing off any exit wounds
with the statements
"nothing to see" and "move along"
By standing needles knit
emergency gossip and rumour
as their thumbs tap tap tap
and click click click
picture and message
streamed to local media networks

A whirring siren
sharpens its shriek
on my passenger window
The curved spine
of the lamp post
spot lights the scene
beautifully
Follow the road ahead
Take the next available left
You have reached your destination

Soft Suppression

2009-05-18T21:49:00.001+01:00

Roll back your second skin
vampishly infront of me
Recline your finger tips
overlapping natural layers
Wear fabric ebbs against
your soft suppression
Woven beneath advances
tease open the envelope
in slow delibrate gestures
Control top to low waist
hidden under transparent mesh
Run fingers down porcelain thighs
knees now bound
held prisoner to
twirling sheer excesses
Gather this daily armour
from under work addresses

Blueprinted Sky

2009-05-17T14:04:00.005+01:00

The recesses you create
hollowed out like a flutemaker would
forces me to listen
as I shudder through your echoes
Standing aside and above
your structure connects
land locked to land mass
Flowing individual blood vessels at 50mph
keeping you upright as I bow my head
and there I stand
beneath your roar
packed into the empty space
slipformed without scaffold
I dare not look up at your majesty
towering
industrial
against the blueprinted sky

Single Shot

2009-05-05T20:09:00.000+01:00

Dry and damp route pulling me down
with the rest of the blossom
to collect in the roads edge
clogging up the drains
sieving rain water
through my vintage jeans
I sit
doubled over
like a broken P
watching my feet
dispense the droplets
I remove my named shirt
its heaviness is hard to carry
in winter
Voices disturb me
like a siren they draw
then repel
Consume then expel
I'm the single shot
huddled in smashed glass
with bus stops
and police cones
This was a good night
I won't remember

Camera Shy

2009-05-05T17:42:00.001+01:00

Blown up from thumbnail
Embarrassed smile in 6 by 9
Sensitive skin close up
Focused and camera shy
Bathed in monochrome
Outlined in soft fabrics
My fingers trace
the answers lie
All caught inside
your red eye

Absent Skin

2009-05-01T22:20:00.003+01:00

I clung onto your jumper
loosely
the one that comforted you
then held me

No substance to this frame
only fragrance
kept its shape
Breathed in
your absent skin
pulled over
closely
daily
You never knew

Ached to be
beside you
inside you
I tried it on
over head
under arm
with each passing
movement
you faded a little

I slept with it
nightly
knitted into it
hopes of your return
yet it never stretched out
or hugged me
like you did