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on Ukraine
Palm Sunday, SumyHoly Week preparationThe Devil rides in~n.b. Moscow moves from supposed ‘military operation’ to full-blown terrorism. Churchgoers and a full public bus, guilty of getting in the way of a double missile strike on an ordinary street in Sumy, this very morning. CLP 13/04/2025 →
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Metallic Blue
My eyes search desperately for the rainI’ll dance in April’s showers if they should ever come againI know to you, it might sound strangeUnbroken blue fills our celestial spanMechanical streams flow to seaside sandsMy eyes search desperately for the rainDaffodils bloom, shrivel and are goneBluebells hang silent in suffocating sunI know to you, it might →
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on reconciliation
to wipe the slate cleanopen your eyes to their painwash their wounds with your tears~n.b. Coventry cathedral, blitzed and rebuilt with this sculpture ‘Reconciliation’ (Reunion), by Josefinaq de Vasconcellos (1977). It imagines a couple embracing over a line of barbed wire. CLP 11/04/2024 →
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Mud
They found a pictureFrom before the callMe in football kitArms crossedA scowlI left that shirtSpotlessCleanAnd dryI’ll soon be backMy hollow lieI lovedMudOn my knees and handsIn earsHairWith bumpsA little bloodPromise of a scarColours wonIn sportNowI restUnder some foreign fieldMud’s filledMy throatLungsNose and eyesNaught was sportThat July dayAs my platoonReturnedTo clay~n.b. The simple detail of the →
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Ghazal for Gaza
Accursed gates forced open eighty years agoMy mother still a child, eighty years agoWhat happened there must not be forgottenEven fire could not cleanse the earth, eighty years agoListen to the gnashing and grinding of teethAt prising apart Hell’s jaws, eighty years agoOh Israel, how could a nation born from thisLet one man lead you →
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Wild Garlic
Shimmering sheets of ramsonsSpread through the woodRipple in the feckless breezeFootsteps fall softAs if in day old snowEvery gentle crunchEmits another pungent breathBetween harsh shadowsOf ash and sycamoreSquinting in steely sunlightShe stoops to gatherA small handful here another therePicking her way homeWith spring-stained fingers~ CLP 07/04/2025 →
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Gabriel Visits The Chippy
April, the cityfull of sunshinesky Mediterranean bluethe half moon has beenstrangely visible all dayit looks like the rock it isunder the sea aboveall its craters crayoned inby the same blueclots of touristschoking the footpathsfrom Tower Bridgesouth to Jamaica Wharfwandering thoughtlesslyinto the cycle pathmaking me weave my e-bikeen route to Johnny’s Fish Barthere’s been football todaypolice →
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The Joy Has Gone / Muzak / Bones
Spare me this muzakThis rolling newsfeed24 hours – no codaOstinatoA builder’s skip fullOf disposable nappiesAt dawn, with ratsAt noon, in full sunAt dusk, with fliesThe witching hour passesMore disposable nappiesAre piled onOn the hour, every hourOstinatoHuman interest storiesWho writes this stuff?¡Ay!One could not make it upThe stench buildsOstinatoThe chorus of bluebottlesDrown the choirsOf widowedOrphaned, the →
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on Ukraine
just gone out to playHigh-precision missile strikenine children murdered~n.b. While Washington clowns around with money, Moscow targets the innocent. What’s wrong with these people. Money comes and goes, life is precious. CLP 05/04/2025 →
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on the piss
Drunks clung togetherStumbling towards the beachThe direction of travelDictated by gravityNot discretionWhich was spewed awayIn the urinalOf The Lord NelsonTheir calamitous gatheringTraces a disorderly lineFrom the lip of The DownsTo the glassy ChannelWhere shattered shards of sunlightScratch at whiskey-shot eyesFumbling for coins in shingle~n.b. Brighton is unrecognisable from my time there, when I first started →
Journey of Words 