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on the island in the autumn
the weather comes tumbling up the Channelin clumps of cloudscasting thick shadowsjacket onwhen the droplets don’t look like stoppingjacket offwhen sunbeams burst through’til the next curtain’s drawnwhite horses riding the rolling greenare broken in on the shinglebeneath the rusting pierblown along the city terracesplane tree papery leaves stickto windscreens, flagstones, the soles of shoesslimy, slippery, →
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in Memphis (2022) / on Ukraine
We’re at a bus stopOn Elvis Presley BoulevardWe’ve been to checkThe King’s still deadAnd waiting thereIn Tennessee’s afternoon heatWe talk of EuropeWhat we’ve shared of itThe moral question?For a young Polish man from EnglandOn holiday with his fatherThere is no doubtI’d be going home to fightWith no thought of checking outHeroic resistanceRemember The AlamoThe Red →
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on Ukraine
It is like dealing with a kid”Time to stop now.”Absolutely no response”I said, that’s enough.You’ve been on that game too long.””Hang on. I’ve nearly finished this level.””No. Stop now! That’s enough.Come out of your room.You must join us at the table.””I’m really into this now.And I’m not really hungry.””It’s your favourite dish.It’s been especially prepared. →
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Tap Out
You pay to pass through the gatesTap inTap outHaving completed your routeBut Gaza’s Nasser hospitalIsn’t a scheduled stopThe missiles flew inThe walls blew outThen again into the rubbleWith rescuers attendingWas this what was intendedTap TapA ‘Double Tap’attackDead journalists, medicsDead rescuers on the sceneThe architects of this warAre beyond obscene~ n.b. Something has to change. How →
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on Ukraine
24th August, 1991Tearing a strip off the Iron CurtainThe Ukraine Soviet Socialist Republic broke awayNo one said it would be easyKyiv wasn’t built in a dayOut of the maelstromThe stirring of the potThe plot and counter-plotA nation finding its feetAfter decades of decayWith grey painted over the cracksUkraine turned toward the light pouring through the →
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on television
when I’m ebbinglacking the fightto stand my own groundI give into the little screenbecome remotefrom realitywhen I have no moreenergy to engageI switch offswitch onand give into the unrelenting tidelet it wash over mewash away reality~ CLP 23/08/2025 →
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on Thursday
OvercastSome light rain pushed through by the cool north-easterlyTraffic moderate with the schools still offShe sat on the bus stop bench under the shelterTidy raincoat, hat and shopping bagWaiting for the bus to the cityLeads for her two patient, slightly heavy, dogs in her handThen she just rolled off the bench to her rightClump! Onto →
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on Ukraine
something straight out of The Brothers Grimminnocence of children betrayedin their thousandsabducted, shipped, farmed outblond hair, blue eyes their appealto childless Russian couplesconscripted to Moscow’s Young Armytaught to deny their birthplaceif they were ever old enough to know from where they sprang~n.b. Check it out, the War Crimes are not just the levelling of villages, →
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on August
Copper foils collect on the outfieldStubborn tufts of grass repay enthusiastic fielders with grazesThe cricketers’ whites are stained by streaks of blood, turf and dustOnce welcome cooling breezes of July have revertedTo deliver East Anglia’s usual desiccating chillPlayers debate whether to wear two shirts, or a sweaterAt home the shower temperature has been turned up →
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on Ukraine
that closeeye-to-eyehard not to smileas hand greets handimpossible to knowhow things will golet’s be frankthe two might find common groundto tradeor they might agreeto disagreewhile Kyiv at centre stagewaits in the wings~ CLP 15/08/2025 →
Journey of Words 