I’m a bit tearful thinking of it but had some wine and that puts me in touch with what I’m feeling. When my heart and head collide and fit. Sorry, yes, it’s embarrassing. Tough as nails I’m gonna drive it home. Laying on the floor I’m ready to give in. Writers everywhere have their favourite illiterate reader riddled with sin. Tips for everyone serving a glassful of tonic with a nothing of gin. This is the heart of the matter as a matter of the heart: I’m full of fear about the future today and the future is full of fear that I’ve stayed up too late to not let tomorrow have its say. Today was ..read more

Made a guess at hearing the plane you were on leaving across the sea overhead as I looked up from my balcony breadcrust with your home emptied of your books, and clothes, as my books gather dust and wardrobe hangs like lead, moth-eaten with wanderlust. I guess you’re halfway done with here and halfway done with there as, like you say, it doesn’t feel like home” like someone who needs space from what’s coming and what’s gone. Every explorer needs an evening sat on the sofa. Every malcontent needs a laugh. Every day needs adventure. Every squeaky clean pop star needs a bath. Everyone waiting f ..read more

When fearing curses dominate verses and pure coincidence leads to waking dreams of waving friends ignoring passing hearses with odds in favour of things going well and mouthless spirits gagged from spinning their dark spell, that little voice in your head asks ‘But am I that jinxed to be voodoo chicken led?’ When going mad and being reckless with bottles pouring out their medicine poisonous joining in the drinking and daring yourself to dive in at the deep end of red water as you burp out speaking speech bubbles live that little voice in your head eggs you on to repeat what you just foolishly ..read more

As social media mimic philosophers write ‘life’s not a rehearsal’ which extras put a like for, while doing the same thing every day eternal flash car deep thinkers wear fashionable hundred dollar bill suits, and second hand beggar cat walkers rub together coppers like perfect poverty beauts. Meanwhile, hairdressers, famed for idle chat shop talk, go on strike deep in thought, as their sitting waiting mirror-gazing customers mull over their greying hair experience they might have swept away to nought. Aging over thinkers turning sixty wonder how the years went by so quickly while those living l ..read more

The sea turned to turquoise from grey. When my memory lapsed, I remembered what I was here for. The rain fell like a rainbow that had missed out on people who couldn’t stay. People who were in as you knocked but who hid behind their door. All those excuses to keep horizons in the distance behind lenses double-thick. Smoking behind the bike sheds. Authority’s gonna come down on you like a ton of bricks. You never went for it 100% and your tongue’s gonna chop off your empty heads ..read more

Day dream out the window. Watch birds perch on trees. See sums mathematically disappear and photographic figures historically freeze. Watch your parents come back to life and days miraculously dawn. See your diary mundanely return to the day you were born. Watch glasses drink up bar tenders pouring down their throat benders. See calendars for decades to come and chew predictions like weather forecast gum. As bad kids get told off for telling it as it is and good teachers tell them off for making it show biz, day dream out the window and muck about making up a god that might last ‘til tomorrow ..read more

Happy new year to everyone dear whose names belong to your alphabet song: To A and H, J and K, B and C, D and E,G,P, T and V. F and L, M and N, S, and X and Z, W,Q,and U, R,I,Y and O. Play them on your own pirate station radio. Start the next 365 days with good intentions and peace pixel resolutions: No more missiles. No more missing files. No more money mad Machiavellians. No more limp lessons to learn lessons. Now, come on, holy brand names and vote can-stuffing X canvassing psychos, behave and put a lid on it. Let’s listen to our pirate radios and sing together a bit. Happy new year me hear ..read more

The Cotton Club All the greatest there from Billie to Dizzie to Fats and Nat to Ethel and Count Basie. The chosen few there all ears for jazz in its golden age. Smoke veering with voices and music crackling from an old vinyl stage. But this isn’t about that or those undisputed cool cats. It’s not so upbeat with clicking fingers or tapping feet. This Cotton Club is different where ears are kept in a cotton wool box. A museum of air waves where voices waft off. When people don’t really listen. When they can’t fix their hearing aid while it’s going wrong. When it’s easier to circle round and drow ..read more

Poetry Archive Now Wordview 2023 Winners Congrats to the winners this year! I entered with ‘Mannequin Street’ and you can find the video there on Poetry Archive website ..read more

Rock ‘n’ roll is about having fun. If you keep yourself in one piece to live long enough, well done! Parents told off by their children for pretending to be happily married at a local fair. Morris dancers from Ipswich in a square. Drop-out students, apart from one, flunk ‘Psychedelia; the rock-social revolution of the 1960s” as they get pissed and take the piss out of hippies. Moos and boos and baas and aaaahhs! Don’t worry ’bout us; we’ll vote and cuss, but thank your lucky stars we’re as revolutionary as our prospects are bright being kept in the dark in soundproof drawers. As trapped miners ..read more