Category Archives: TWENTY – TWENTY – ONE

THE SHRUNKEN PAPS of BUDHA

The Shrunken Paps of Buddha .. . I lay the cobalt lanes stoney  dusted grey-ink and pink      ultramarined, wet-on-wet, carmined       and speckled snowy Tracing ketch shapes standing  pencilled against a warm wind   of deep, … Continue reading

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kyrie eleison .. .

kyrie eleison .. . I stepped by the mythical tree whose branches dressed in copper whose arms reach out ever upward trained on the ghost of Jacob Marley her boughs and sprays convolvulate lavish, adorned, purpled of paradoxicality awkward, leaning … Continue reading

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WHAT’S ALL THIS FUSS? (extended Batty edition)

WHAT’S ALL THIS FUSS?! Batty edition…. All this fuss over Charles Bukowski most of his life no one knew who he was working in diners washing dishes any work that he could get living like a cockroach hid from society … Continue reading

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DIARY OF A LINCOLNSHIRE SHEEPSTEALER

Diary of a Lincolnshire Sheepstealer … … this Lincolnshire .. . …   …   … … Those squashed, brown, glassed marbles   worth as much as a big taw or a boulder in playground exchange, much as a   … Continue reading

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AN ODE TO A BOTTLE OF TULLAMORE DEW .. .

An Ode to a Bottle of Tullamore Dew If thou being philosophical were an oil painting     wrested of nazi crates, a stolen treasure a carafe discovered, a hidden artefact     one piece of art, the beauty of … Continue reading

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NAKED AND UNASHAMED .. .

Naked and Unashamed .. . I run free my pieces jangling   run to the crashing sea I run shouting unashamed   my arms vainly embracing the moon   the wind grazing my flesh I run still wondering   in … Continue reading

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ALWAYS BEGIN AGAIN .. .

Always begin again .. . .. Have you seen the swifts departing or heard their solemn call across the housetops, the smudge of bronze-brick chimneys a hoar frost hanging grey, the scoop skin of ripe, wild blueberry we had been … Continue reading

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THE PAPER BOY .. .

.. The Paper Boy .. . .     …   …   …   .                   I had been a compulsive since I was seven    or was it seventeen?    we … Continue reading

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ALONE WITH VOID .. .

Alone With Void .. . It was not that I began to hear voices which signalled my anxiety it was more tears that began to flow at really most anything the line of a song an irrational concern for someone … Continue reading

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HEMATOMA .. .

Hematoma .. . it’s a national hematoma .. . the phone rang, a voice spoke but I could not decipher the identity of the caller they pronounced my name wrong the world turns slowly I don’t think I know you … Continue reading

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