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I see hope is radiating 

from your strong, highlighted cheekbones

Mirroring your fears like souvenirs

and all the strength that you broke

When you started mending nicely

And folk said you looked gamely, save the eyes 

That seep your secrets

What to’morra brings 

I’ll let you know a secret 

Wrap it up and keep it

It still bleeds deep within

You’ve got that look that could still a thousand heartbeats 

But you hear a banging in your ear

Losing more, without me

Don’t you see?

I’m your plastic millionaire 



The hold

You’re there

in those moments of space 

between the  places where white noise waits  

for silence.

But as the clock turns on

chiming time with a bird, and 

I find it harder to succumb 

to quietness

and feel you slip, between the 

cacophonous  cracks. 

The Agricultural Engineer

I have a story in an old shoe box
and I leave it to spin out
all the time

A heart ache framed in that trusty old-schooled ink and it bleeds
like a bruise
on tattooed thighs

I’m stood with a blush of pink insincerity
and i find that I cannot tell a lie

You see, like a bird
like a falcon way up high
and you breathe like a new born
swimming child

You teach
with the wisdom of an ancient rested soul
and I want to be near you all the time

There’s a key in the garden where you fall asleep at night
there’s a lock hidden there under
the chime

But the wind is howling haunted
and it leaves you feeling blind
and you can’t
remember how to tell the time

It’s written in the kitchen, right there underneath the clock
There’s a sink full of truths I can’t deny

But you walk through the hall in those dirty, old work boots
leaving marks on my floor and on my life

A sidewards smile holds a cigarette, alight

The dirty, honest dishes
left behind


We’re fizzing, dizzy with it
clinking glasses
chasing tequila like its some
wild, ferocious beast

And there’s us – just kidding
There’s us and thousand more bodies
bodies all sweating
drunk on the chase of frets and
foreign animals

We’re Serengeti Sailors – what?

Mexican Fire Eaters

that’s better

laughter and streamers explode
from the eyes at the table
and the warmth is real, save the last dance

My two left feet


I’m always writing myself

Creating something

Erasing the lines made in error

Concentrating on the definition

I like grey scale 

and colour combined

And perfume – perfume all over the page

One day

One day dude, I’ll be a fucking 



I wanted to write for you, a storm in a tea cup

Sum it up, wrap it up in a song
of three chords

but now it’s breezy and I’m thinking too deeply

I’m rarely concise

I hear you in symphony – a complex arrangement

Sending my own self deranged as I sit trying to unpick you

trying to frame you in my own style

I just can’t pin you, fathom it

How a stormy lass like me
finds calmness in the wordless sea of you

The Tonic

Posted on

I’m always missing somebody
and exercising control – muscle flexing with a burn

A steady smile, you like it?

Drunk on laughter, wine sodden
with odd socks sleeping on my skin, sweeping the floor like they’re made for it

I sit cross legged with a tambourine
but it is you that shakes like you’re convulsing

Two left feet, twirling you in circles and me in contentment

To this wonderfully strange, new beat