Make it till you make it
A quick word about Imposter Syndrome.
The trouble with those posters & Blue Fruit
Two rants in poetic form, inspired by Liz Truss, her party and their supporters…
Mosquito dreams, Midsummer ghost, Inked in
Three short recent poems, concerning light, heat and the potential perils of open windows. All first seen on Twitter as posts for Blackbough Poetry’s @toptweettuesday.
Pebbles on the shore, Awake and Love on the breeze?
Another trio of poems recently shared via Black Bough poetry’s TopTweetTuesday.
This time, playing with and exploring the search for that elusive ‘perfect’ pebble, using ‘banshee’ as a verb and the seemingly absurd notion of fighting butterflies (for an extra bit of fun, try singing the first line of ‘Love on the breeze’ to the tune of The Cure’s ‘Inbetween Days’.
Urban rewilding, Everyday object & Undercliff
“Those woods on the ridge,
through the window,
if watched from a certain angle,
will roll over the roads,
untamed the suburbs,
reclaim the shape
of old maps…”
Nukhak, Unearthed, The Nature Present
Three recent poems: Nuthak, Unearthed and The Nature Present.
Landmarking, Only crow and Galactic wood
Three short poems, recently shared on twitter through @toptweettuesday – Black Bough Poetry’s imagist focused poetry platform. Two birds, two sky-holes and a tiny galaxy of flies and light.
The world’s first psychic, intuitive, walking guide…
What if your average numbered walking guide, turned out to do much more – going beyond the basic geography to be predictive, intuitive, even psychic? If that happened, it might go something like this…
The lost cenotes of South East London
A little bit of fun. I shared this recently on Twitter for Black Bough Poetry’s #TopTweetTuesday.
The Keypad Thieves
Normally I send poems out to magazines and websites, before I put them on here, hoping an editor will take them, so it’s not only me who thinks there’s something in them. With this one, I have no idea where I’d send it, or what chance it would have – perhaps it would be seen…
Grasshopper
You made a myth of a whitewashed wall,
Jarring ambassador in green…
Growing up in a city that was never there
The day Bristol Museum and Art Gallery’s Chinese Room disappeared, was the day I first realised that places, like people, can change. It came as something of a shock.
A Veritable Bewilderment of Delights
I’ve always quite liked the style of old handbills: the erratic punctuation, jumbled type sizes and overuse of exclamation marks especially. If I produced a handbill for this blog, it would look something like this…
Richly Evocative 