Lazy Summer

Well summers finally here, ive been away to Puerto De La Cruz in Tenerife, and my writing has taken off again after a rather fallow period following my performance at the Wenlock Poetry Festival

Ive penned about 7 poems and some one page monologues of characters at the hotel, hoping it might turn into a small collection/chapbook

April is the cruellest month - Choices to be made

Well its coming up fast, the Wenlock Poetry Festival - Poetry Busk and my five minute shot at performance poetry at 1200 on Saturday 25th April ( Much Wenlock Methodist Church)

Am i ready, in a very short word - No

So its reached this point and a bit of panic with 10 days to go !

I need to decide on my set

Do i go safe, do i take some risks, short poems, long poems

I just dont know !!!!

South Wales Writing Break

Took myself off for 3-days in Pembrokeshire, for a bit of a break and 3-days of writing ( or inspiration). Managed to pen about 5 new poems, which all need a bit of work

heres a small Haiku i wrote

St Catherine

Sitting off the beach

St Catherine of the islands

She’s rocking that fort

The good the bad but no ugly

Ive had more work accepted for Stepping Stones Magazine ( USA) 'Demented' and 'Solitary Owl Seeks', which is great

But , i received word on Monday that i hadnt been accepted for the Writing West Midlands Room 204 Development programme, which has dissapointed me, its just what i needed to push my writing on

Ah Well, carry on doing what im doing

More Success on the Writing Front

Had my poem ' Super Mario' accepted for publication by Ink Sweat and Tears

Read my poem 'All that Survives' at the Eat Up poetry night in Shrewsbury

Wenlock Poetry Festival 2015 - Poetry Busk Sat 25th April 12-1pm

Im going to be reading some of my work at the Poetry Busk at the festival in April, cant wait, just need to put together a punchy tight 5 minute set

Published again !

Mudfish 18 has just been published in New York, i have a poem in it called 'Absurd'

Busy getting busy

Ive been really busy since Christmas, ive tried being more professional about writing/ editing/submitting, here are the main bits:

Submitted to Faber & Faber new poets
Sent application to Room 204 development ( writing West Mids)
Sent a short story to BBC Opening Lines
Submitted to Ambit and Ink Sweat and Tears magazines

Courses and Christmas

Completed a Creative Writing course at the Library ( with Lisa Blower) really enjoyed it and got some great feedback

Christmas came and went, much better than last year, here is the poem penned on Christmas Day 2013

Alternative Xmas

Christmas hangs

Like the North Star,

All heavenly cleanliness

Glittering but unattainable

To single hearts, like mine

Stripped bare, to its essentials

Of consumerism & gluttony

The cheap lights, tinsel

And television

Its offence to loneliness

Its jovial monstrosity

Stalking December

 Decked streets

In drizzle hung carols

Nylon Santa suits

And advent

Induced alcoholism

How much the heart

Aches for the joy

Of January

And normal

Solitary

Anonymity

My Writing

Im sort of getting the hang of how i write now, its like pottery
I slap down a lump of words in a basic framework
then work it down until im done
it works for me

And so it began, for me
back in seventy eight
on a thick set telly
way out past bedtime
the commentary, voices, colours
vivid against grasses
the long haired moustacioed God
Blue and white long sleeved
number ten, Super Mario
Kempes
He spins, stops, turning a shot
chequer ball slowly rolling
beyond the Oranje
into
ticker taped immortality
and so it began for me, back in seventy eight !

New Year Revolutions

Promised myself i would give poetrying a real go after Christmas, more professional, more time, effort. Nothing ventured nothing gained somebody once said

Twelve Months

Well nearly 12 months without a post, break ups, meetings, happiness, sadness, depression, joy all wrapped into a year.

'We kissed, and it that moments forest
of sweetness, realities cold hand closed,
and carried you to anothers
embrace'

Decisions

Finally decided to submit some of my work to Faber & Faber, am i kidding myself ? probably, only time will tell- fingers (and toes) crossed

Mirror Mirror

Mirror Mirror

on the wall

am i the fairest

one of all?

I look and look

but cannot see

cos im a vampire

silly me

Haloween

If people want to be frightening,
the worst monster ever seen,
all they need to do i suppose,
is take off their sodding clothes.

Live ! from Poetry Cafe in Chicago

You can see my poem  performed live here                                                            http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0r2FcVFn-C4&feature=youtu.be

Equinox

As days draw themselves
inward, long lines of neatly folded
memories queue,
ready to fill 
pockets in hearts.
Breath undressing winds
caress cold idleness,
on thought provoking trees.
Intense palindromic gales
howl illiterate words
through natures empty sheds.
Spilling awkwardly, between
mountainous seasons
and calm sunshine.
Corridors of rain 
fall incessantly,
coloring summers
Monet masterpiece
in autumnal Dali dreams


This ones popular on Poempigeon 

Published !

One of my first goals achieved , here is the link:
http://www.lulu.com/shop/assorted-writers-and-artists/down-in-the-dirt-v119-septoct-2013/paperback/product-21232124.html

October 13

My first Published poem will be out shortly ( after 1st Oct) in 'Down in the Dirt' magazine- 'Distances', its a poem i wrote about Philip Larkin and Monica Jones.

A Curious Dog in the Night

A dog is barking
somewhere, irritatingly
repetitive, inescapable
in the small hours

Its to humid to
close the windows, ill
just lie, me and the bark
in the small hours

Perhaps it will stop,
or sleep will carry
me gently away,
in the small hours

The barking has
increased in intensity,
and has a helplessness
in the small hours

Earplugs don't work,
my brain hunts down
the slightest sound,
in the small hours

The radio helps,
but i still hear
the dog ,between tracks
in the small hours

If i were to kill
the dog, would
i then get some sleep?
in the small hours

Or lock tight
its jaws, with duck
tape and glue,
in the small hours

I could creep
unnoticed and
release the hound,
in the small hours

I wake with a start,
my buzzing alarm,
never a dog nor a bark
in the small hours