| Parchment |


And no-one is going to read a single word I write
In any age or era or on any day or hour

I will write on yellowed parchment or vellum made from a new day old sow
or scrawl my words in the sand dunes of Nevada into its bough
or use my fingernails to scratch them out in Jurassic rock
Or sew them into an old pair of socks

I can make my poems from SOS flags on zebra crossings
or write them in a ransom note from newspaper clippings
I could spend years in a Toyko den with ink and brush
and have my words tattooed on the back of an old crush


I should have my writing carved onto my forehead
or use the words as an incantation while taking too many meds
Put them in a declaration of war in a secret presidential address
or spell them numerically through a four hour game of chess


I will burn the parchment and melt the pigs skin
Watch the wind blow away the sand and smash the stone
Throw away the socks and burn the flags
and tear up the newspaper and send my captive home

I'll spill the ink and dent the needles blunt
and wrap my head in a silken scarf
Stop the incoherent chanting and spoil my ballot paper instead
I'll Keep my pawns safe and sacrifice my Queen to kiss your breath


| Diamonds |


You can turn the facets this way and that and will it cracked
For blue and white lights sake, turn it blue and cover the black
Can you see the star tearing up the sky and pushing the sun forward?
Cutting eyes from shards of heaven in that singular carbon made wood.

Diamond or diamonds plays an eye for an eye
Bare footed on the precipices of Mirny is where the dark claws hide.
Shake them in your hair at the border and swallow them down low
Facets disguise their flaws by stealing sunlight to continue the show.


| Candlesticks |

Money trickles down through fingers and legs
Sounding out all it's obstacles
On a quiet timing of tick tocks
On rocks and peaks and troughs

A graph you don't understand
A fluid artwork of mathematics and impulses

Coins can be heavy and can pull a person down
Into caves and coastal pools and
You slip on the new monogrammed paper
that slips in your hand and beneath your feet

Cut your foot on a sharp shell exploring possibilities in the
water below.

Fumbling around the shackles of gold coins and sliding notes
in your pocket to buy anything, and anything is good for us.
The money is not the problem and the markets aren't open to you
It's the weight, friends, of all these troubles in your light pockets
that leave us abandoned on the shore.

| Sing! |


Keep us safe
For there are more tomorrows
Keep us safe
Through the stars of tomorrow

There are more glories for us today
To reap, to sing!

To step amongst the moments for our discourse
To run and reap and shout away the shadows

And the sun must not set him down or unfurl away
into the darkness

Keep us safe for the ages to come
Through the crashes of tomorrow

I propose a wondrous night!
a question of time and finities
I propose a wondrous night!
asking of you, my love, ecstacies unanswered

And look at the snow!
And sing!
Today is enough where I hope to find the answers to your call
Today is enough for the shadows!
If we banish them in your light,
my love

Let's put away the glories of space and time
And be happy and thwarted and kind
Let's hold down the hands of the chiming clock
And twist and bend them to our will

I do not want to wait for the future to forgive us
Or for future laments to concern us, my love
Take my hand in yours
And dance in the snow with me, and sing my love

Keep us safe
For there are more tomorrows
Keep us safe
Through the stars and the state of tomorrow

| You always knew.... |


In recent years I have acquired a small criminality about me,

you found out about me

and still wanted me

Based in misplaced freedom and a crippling anxiety.

There is a certain freedom in small criminalities, in my speech and frailties

That I censure like white sand, I am always free.


And there is definitely a policeman inside my head but I know I wear my uniform well.

Polished shoes are creeping right and left

 I can go where I like and do what I am

Her blue head doesn’t give a fuck-so I don’t give a fuck

No taxes or 8 hour lives- my own terms


I think a bank robber- no, arsonist would suit me better

A little relief witnessing the melted marks on your cuffs

Or a chain that I can see- 20x20

Are you free? I’m free I’m free, I’m free, I’m free, I’m free, I’m free

Take my fee


I have the Freedom to starve and V is 2000 miles away

No, not a policeman, a rubbish tip, worthy to throw away

A backhander and a wink or a nudge in the dark

Always on good behaviour

Always free

This is an ongoing project and I will be adding more poems soon xx