I like to treat poetry as an instinctual reaction, a flowing out that creates a new little corner of the world. My pieces are quite varied, some have structure and rhyme some don't, whatever comes out in the moment is lord of the realm.
A poem about the time I had a fist fight with a small Asain girl.
I know you probably think war is a good thing, but I don't think it's that great.
The Wine of the Evening
Looking back on a visit to the park.
Some Bar in Old Street
A poem written while out in a bar with some people from work who were so dull I had to resort to absinthe and poetry to entertain myself.
Phoning a Lady
How I feel when calling someone I want to like me.
I went away on a human holiday, distant from London's broken smiling slabs. The shore I washed up on was a different world, a silent, night time place, uncluttered, unfiltered. [...]
Ode to procrastination.
The Empty seat (Un-kissed)
The tragedy of that seat on the Tube that no one sits on.
White Lightening (dedicated to Richard Briers)
A lonely evening of introspection and BBC Radio 4.
There's a freedom somewhere that needs an invitation to my soul, because at present there is nothing, an empty bowl, a room bereft of guests; even silence stays away. Tonight I'm not drunk, but the words are stuck regardless; [...]
Memories of my Nervous Illness
A sabbatical from life; that grating, wearing away machine. The propping up of the drooping facial equipment is the carrying of an super-incumbent weight, crushing all torsos without organs [...]
My Life Right Now (things I shouldn’t be saying).
This is the stuff that happens when you’re not looking.
Alone on a limb of the idiot tree trying to keep all the leaves facing the sunlight [...]