Wednesday, 30 November 2011

Shoulder Pork Ham

one click
flavoured russian cum asian
first though herbal
fruitful extension
such friendship
one clit-k sensation
new phone
who phone
whore moan
fear & gear
solutions are here
with 1 or more I
sinful maybe

Tuesday, 29 November 2011


November’s last splash
wet whipped backhand across face
such stinging rebuke

Fucking Fuck (careful I say fuck a lot)

fucking write it
twelve feet fucking
write it
so the fuckers
sting like grit
in the fucking eye
just write the fuckers
somewhere anywhere
write it in the fucking sky
just make it seen
every fucking where

Monday, 28 November 2011


the malfeasance
is to swallow
easy plaudits
parochial praise
dutifully held peer
nearest words to those
wished to hear

such a cost in
air expired
bemired captive
plunge naked
into the wake of
intellectual diaspora

brain drained
long fled
spoon fed
red topped reali-tv
could be you scratchery
be low
be common
be not

we aren’t listening
we don’t
factor out the X
oh we do so miss
our puppetry
what do you
count for
sweet self
ghetto confinement

Sunday, 27 November 2011


nearer the bottom
you realise the less it
may hurt if you jump

Saturday, 26 November 2011


dreams may never lie
they do
most often die
through this conceit
with demeanour
fell and thick of skin
vitreous exposure
of egg shelled heart
makes unendurable
a trail where
once held hands
truth abjured
in withered heresy

Something For The Weekend

Olympic sized
black synaptic massage
diced sliced
blood moulded
bloomed red vine
in thermal distress
golden bounty of
Albion's fields
beaten baked reheated
unfulfilled fowl spitting
in rendered seed bed
feathered fungi popping
butter sweet
with daddie’s dulcet dark
duvet drenching
1/57th of Mr Heinz
pressed sunshine
borrowed from the south
oh yes
English fullness my friend
come join me

Plus Ça Change

reality shifts
minute by minute
as a shadow
in the suns ardent remit

Friday, 25 November 2011

Bottoms Up

this tawny coolness
tock tick toxic keen as the
sharpest dissection

Thursday, 24 November 2011

Oh I Don't Like To Be...

under the gaze
of murderers moon
dirty towns
that insult the sea,
such that she
hides away for
the longest part
of everyday,
waft a
pheromone laced
lambent neon entrapment
urging dirty moths
lay out their silver
spill briny, tinny vitality
amidst vomitous gore
over what dignity

Salus Carnotense

come captain, sail,
crystal hulled atop our deepest cartography
observe and then fashion a fable
palatable enough to lay at the family table

though do it, I beg, as if mute
with such a silent eloquence
that mouth’s no questions of consequence
instead try reading  the captions

unmask the tension etched deep in the fabric
the text amid the creases burned through the years
of caustic neglect
then, good captain, draft us a new chart

warn us, where be dragons and terra incognita lie,
navigate these doldrums that we may yet be saved

Monday, 21 November 2011


our unshackled hearts
are easily lost
as they wander
in a haphazard dance of
bewildered wonder

Sunday, 20 November 2011

You Should Try It

I dig to eat
some days
of late
it’s my only guarantee
of food on a table
once amply laden

31.0°N 64.0°E (Then On To The Next)

breaking the neck of speed
rent splintered from
bluffed zonal comfort
whole organs
now foreclosed
allusion to
mere scraps
of bloody conclusions
for history’s reckoning

Just The One

and one asked
“are you OK?”
that one said
“do you wanna play
or would you rather me
stay away?”
and they
I daresay
have their own slavering
demons to slay
but regardless gave
and that kindness
will be repaid

Just Do It

break this glass
carve the nouns across my chest:
liar / cheat / whore
let your cigarettes burn
adjectives upon my limbs
delinquent / base / vile
aim (v) that verb
and plant (v)
your boot in my face
for all it is worth
an imprint
so much more than I

F(b)ook It

fickle and faithless as it is
all forsaken I heed the
cobalt headed siren
expectant each time I enter
buoyed by latest world proclamation
often only to be met by tumblweed dry
oppressive quiet the chorus to my

Saturday, 19 November 2011

Before The Fact

nights like these
when you recoil from my touch
revulsion scored deep
excuse dog-eared
primed ready to go
at page 53
I fear that I will
never again enjoy
the needful tender embrace
of a woman
while I am sill able
to offer back
anything less than chaste
and in some
lugubrious future
if taken to task
about some transgression past
you accusatory “why?”
will need one simple reply
“do you really need to ask?”

Raw Candy

despite the allure
and if I’m to be forthright
the water tested
when the truth is told
I’m only here to fuck with
your beautiful minds…
…except for you

Friday, 18 November 2011

None So Blind

I did not see you there

onion eyed panda
tight in the corner
with your full proof cohort
sucking on the empty vapour

I did not see you there

cold in crumpled sheets
counting the winning lies
harsh knee clenched pillow
lying in spinning divides

I did not see you there

mired in absinthian
spectred familial grief
reconditioning the same
hackneyed lost motif

I did not see you there

I did not see you

I did not see
I stopped looking

Thursday, 17 November 2011


on this or some
velvet morning
wild bulls
couldn’t drag me
from this tragic queen
where dreams
are writ in tangerine
my guilty orbit
around her brightness
one seven, seven one
more or less
but doomed bee my role
in this timeless tragedy
welcome cursed death
dragged swift by the sea

I Don’t Like These Re-Runs

smoked and ghosted
dismembered remembrance
through chemical ordnance
just the discard dog ends
of a long vanished audience

oh! sorry!
I forgot
you never do
each day afresh
new penalty due

Aujourd'hui Pas Amour

today is one of those
hate you days
when all you say
is full of bile
every bark and growl
cruel and vile
yes today
I really
fucking hate you

Vin de Moule

from you
I shall
for you I will
redolent will be your answer
bedroom wine
fresh flowing
pressed fruit twixt
thumb and four fingers
from fleshly vine
enmeshed embrace
your vessel tapped
will be my bounty
sop soused and sodden
a happy sot
infused by
osmotic transfer
flesh through flesh
jism through plasm

We (View)

she will play fuck
and she understands
that some days I look
but I will make no demands

Wednesday, 16 November 2011


I am not damaged
but a wasted soul
whipped and ridden
I’ve taken it all

beyond mere stoic
and self control
rolled every punch
shit duly swallowed

like weathered oak
all storm withstood
stolid but inside
not understood

the depth & breadth
of sad consumption
consequence of
eternal presumption

not mourning having
missed those boats
put it all down to
one long bad misquote

I am hollowed rock
that must endure
the shifting sands
on exposed shore

All Ears

to my nakedness
do you not hear
come closer
tighter sweet
let me whisper it
in your ear
can you not discern
my heart
other than fear
breath that shortens
and quickens
once our intentions
are clear
you hear it ?
come join
and we’ll spear
the night
as I descry
your nakedness

Tuesday, 15 November 2011

Just How Grey Is Today?

a battleship sky peppers my
ashen eyes
summer’s sombre tombstone,
oyster grit scratched, granite
elegy lain over smoky pyre

rising as dingy dove soon to be naught
but cinereal ash
all life seems blanched
by grisly lividity pallid,
 heather powdered,
to abrogate all hue and tincture

where the gaudy fusillade
of fall’s chromaticity?
such the capitulation
to leaden neutrality

drab iron clad
slate dust dusk
where even mouse
can stand as vivid array
in this dullest
day of greys

Kitty Say Feed Me

each step
draws a bow wave
into which leap
pileous dolphins
riding the wake

dancing below
my every stride
furled around
my naked feet

constant villous squadron
remora fearless
tangled trampled underfoot

talk about love
though I’m sure
the only variety
is cupboard

If You’re Listening

I could sing of the moon
or write of the sea
but how would those morphemes
acquaint you with me?

that I sleep with the sky
or dream of fishes?
though not one disclosed word
of my broken wishes

so I loose those voices
inside my head
that I shouldn’t inhabit
and share their dread


pluck the light from the eyes
of those who feign closeness
cripple their thoughts and
render them wordless

then I’ll tell you of me
without flowered allegory
but with words that cut true
not just one more hard fuck story

Monday, 14 November 2011


the circling black
signposts ahead
rummage sale
for nebs and peckers
tossing and tugging
through the years discard
a golden litter
in death still giving
though some escaped
that bargain barrow
settled on pathway
in swathes of yellow
but now stamped as
transient fossil
printed ghost
of shallow relief
atop their concrete host
not burned there
by a sleepy sun
but made shadow by
a perishing fusion
and ex comrades
green and scoffing
still hang and taunt
don’t heed dry rusting
that signals seasons
fast decline
and their coming fall
on winters line

On Hearing The First…

pig from elsewhere
beating the bush
screaming the ream
in the wrong nest
working a sweat
cooking cooking

cuckold cold
if you tolerate this
repeat repeat
compete or die
gotta try harder

Sunday, 13 November 2011

Not Like One

vagabond beneath
from high
lookee me lookee me
and I look
but don’t see
and they call
lookee me lookee me
talking to me
lookee me lookee me
what urgency
and I can hear
what they need
of me
so tackled tree
branches and bark
painful sharp
lookee me lookee me
climb climb
still the call
through foliole
and parting bract
what I see what I see
branch upon branch
like me like me
and I sit and I set
and exult from on high
lookee me lookee me

Prancing Horse

nah !!!
comfortable ride
but can show
a remarkable turn
of speed
and great control
around curves

It's Where I'm From

it were looking black
but Bill’s mother
coulnt see it
cos it were ovva er
and she’d only scrait
if she could
an I worrent wi’er
any road
she were wi erssen
not summat I were
proud of
but I were puddled
from the ale
and that page owl
I pulled last nate
were reet
up ma street
she larruped hersen
all ovva me
mi duck
am tatered now
but I’ll chuck mi claarts on
and you can gimme a croggie
up road
so she wont be so mardy

Remaining Unconvinced

this passage
never taken
hedonic ingress yet
that such deep surrender
coud ever be so sweet
to allow the most
intimate of plunder

Saturday, 12 November 2011


c’mon sweetness lets
tessellate our bodies mould
our geometry
like nested tables
slot ourselves neatly away
in captivus lock
it is a dangerous table
at which to feed
but such
sticky fingered
I’m not ready to leave

End Games

no more now
than filament leaf,
skeletal relief
too long
suffocated under water

Friday, 11 November 2011

tinker tamk tank

iced around boards
inbound honey
thooid howl
and thyestean vigour
what depth
your thymopathy?
no timoneer able
to correct this tiller
and at the tinchel’s mercy
any wonder
become tiqueur
no safe tmema
can tolypeutine
tonlet rescue
for my heart’s
tonus quiet
reliant topomancy
a torporific

any of the above may do

hear poet
harken scribe
your heart dealt
living welts
ring hollow
audience rapt
and trapped
word tied
world wise

Thursday, 10 November 2011

Try Harder

I consider myself
a petty poet
I think
therefore I lie
I drink
one day I’ll die
I love
most days I sigh
I stink
at much I try

Keep It Up Boi

in my lungs
fuck no
one more
two lungs should
one lung
pine in da hood
no its good
hit me up
just a small one
say when
cold dawn

don’t stop till
you get
fucked up


so hard
stringing together
stopped turning
liar layered
dried and listless


what’s under my skin
is such a wonderful thing
so glad you made it


threw beauty
across my path
“thank you”
I said
“but was it
looking for me?”

and beautiful
a warm
and wordy
and a little bit bawdy

then lightning bolt
that moment
startling candour
surely not
cross dressing
tax inspector?

thank goodness no!
but facts disclosed
might find ugly
belonging in
the deepest core

Wednesday, 9 November 2011

30.5 (for two voices)

give me your foot nylon net webbed
take my foot
and arches divine
a sensory trail to meridien mines
my thumbed impulsion rolls a gentle heat
your thumbs yes gentle
to such somatic implosion my hands
your hands your hands
explore your shapely ankle

yes further
yes, yes further!
five painted rosebuds across the way
five more patient
silken suspension bathed fresh
and oiled for my attention
your attention only yours
or take in your hands
let me take you into my hands
another solution?
another solution!

Get Out

I hold no god
there is
no measure
of my sin

how then
do I feel
an evil
deep within?


gilt stitches
by androids
the guilt
sanguine sap
in cheating
with last words
too late
as always

Tuesday, 8 November 2011

Lay Down Thine Pen

painting pictures
without words
I would be
a happy mute


painted myself
not forgetting
on my fuzzy ass
that I might
stand a chance
of fooling those
soft coral folds
to permit
my probing search
for a candied hit
proboscis divining
pestal deep
waggle dance
albeit briefly
stigma gripping
six legs tease
a song from
my burgeoning host
on a musky breeze

Monday, 7 November 2011

Eating Out

could I interest you in the menu sir
why you silly girl
that’s what I’m here for
good good
our starter consists of clarity
I see
I see
and next?
an entrée made from honesty
generosity and just a little flattery
but for dessert can I tempt you
with the sweetest lies
no no
a little cheese if you please
coffee at mine?
don’t mind if I do

Our Eyes Scales

the dead keep dying
plus hi-definition
truth remains hidden
a long held
British tradition
the sum of all these tears
our happy outrage
dispensed through
a brutality
we’ve always revered

Diminishing Trend

I can think of a favourite
way I’d like to wear you
beloved friend
but that might burn a bridge
we could never mend

would happily die a death
by a thousand paper cuts
as I searched for the right words
to say sorry
devoted friend

but don’t pretend
this didn’t hurt a little
behave like your heart
isn’t quite that brittle
my troubled friend

Long Haul

no, I don’t miss you like I used to
after so long what did you expect
but it doesn’t mean I don’t love you
anymore, or any less



and with this sigh the light

just got bored
of explanation
so with that act of exhalation
lookee here y’all
the revelation
that your gods
they all got tired
from waiting
went off to ventures
more exciting
looked through the glass
in bitter reflection
“in our own image?
what were we thinking”

Sunday, 6 November 2011

Deceive Yourself

I am sometimes convinced
that their attention is more
than ephemeral

that in spite of all the ego
there is something stops the passage
of the cerebral

in a fog, that
licentious abandon prevents
honest meeting

of souls that belong
caught dovetailed through
real belonging

but then I wake up
in the dusk of my reality
asking who am I fooling?

Animals Watching Fireworks

a llama wandered out
to, maybe, look at he moon
“holy shit!
the sky is consumed”
so he rushed and he gathered
his reindeer companions
and they came and they looked
really just to indulge him
but replied
“you’re not wrong mate,
it’s a bit of a state
now pass me a corn cob,
some butter and those shades”

You Don’t Know Jack (as well as me)

me and Jackie D
we’re gonna spend some
time together
take a walk
down the road called

feel I’m all about the
throb and hum
causal diarist of
this humdrum
persistence of existence
with little resistance

yet I want to fly
with that caramel magpie
for marshmallows
from a wyverns eye
even raise a glass
in the devils hallows,
but I’ll let you know
how badly that all goes

and while you're all
for me to emerge
with another flat stanza
or dirigible dirge
clink the ice in your glass
and have one on me
and wish me throb-speed
through this mashed odyssey

Saturday, 5 November 2011

I’ll Remember Remember This Fifth of November

lazy day waking
with a morning wasting
channel surfing
create and crafting
but the afternoon comes
and with it the fun?
so we’ve ridden the iron buffalo
braved the flumes chilling spray
ah yes, this is England
where we come out to play
when its wet and its windy
and its cold and it’s grey
where it’s got to be shouted
though there’s nothing to say
through the nicotine nurture
send the kids on their way
then retreat inside to squared four corners
flying finger thumb traces
there’ no local engagement for
these blue reflected faces
but we’re everyone waiting
for the burning main event
of dragon guarded pyre
one more night of Guido’s torment
and what a conflagration
would have done King Jimbo proud
peeling off the reddened flesh
of us closest in the crowd
the guardian wyrms
they dont last long
fall crashing
in a crackling song
and confused smoky ducks
dodge the fiery sprites
launched skyward
into the not so black night
ill defined blooms
in the distance, smudges
light distorted by this
inferno’s searing vapours

then to our left to our right
it seems all around
trees of light blossom
to a delayed resound
serpents and flower heads
stuff the sky full
to the oohs and the aahs
of this field full of people
and as is always the case
it is over to soon
and in gold embered showers
we’re all headed home
where sausage and onions
slow cooking all day
steeped in hot gravy
are awaiting their fate

Capitol Attraction

Lundonia Raga
itinerant girl
fight the urge
of that vagrant call
stop for a while
come out to play
and know this welcome
you could never outstay

from out of the blue
came your timeless aura
but I’ve known you forever
my anam cara
but like foundling kitten
left at my door
your ragamuffin spark
brought me so much more

the sweetest flicker
of your attention
springloads my step
(and much more
I daren’t mention)
and I’d like you
in my life forever
though I know one day
despite best endeavours

I shall watch your reflection
fade from my sight
and I know my dejection
will dessicate and swipe
a vital sap and
the leaves from my heart
but every winters end
must have spring for its start

Friday, 4 November 2011


a man
flawed and flesh
neither all that I wish
or all which I should
of wizened wood
but I am

Thursday, 3 November 2011


still have 17 years
left to repent
of my 25 to life
should have
chosen to rent

Fuck You

so incredibly deep
is where
you’d like to keep
your head
in the sand
forever asleep
or up
your own ass
you self centred creep

La Chaleur

my my my
kitties got it bad
kitty got her tail up
kitty yowls so sad
kitty rolls around the stairs
kitty wants to show you
kitty wants to share her wares
kitty is a cougar
poor poor kitty

Wednesday, 2 November 2011


imma let my words go
with a natural flow
less rhyme and no reasoning
but with a little extra seasoning


staring stock still
on that bridge over
such dirty depths
I ponder could
I take that last step

my body to be
splintered & shattered
in a final flesh strimming
ecstasy of
dreadful oblivion

Tuesday, 1 November 2011


I dreamed last night
cold sweated an immersive fancy

imagined time was solid
built of countless basalt blocks
but here and now was fluid
not governed by mortal clocks

my yesterdays became today
right after my tomorrows
and life ran on a different track
no set causeway to follow

and all my being occurred at once
right then or now or is maybe just about
to flow between the cracks
and cast reality into doubt