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My poems at Poetrysoup.com

Listen to mouseclubvirusblues

Breathe

A minor blip

A small setback

A little shake where a shake shouldn’t be

Did anyone see

And breathe

 

The train travels relentlessly

Towards the Spanish border

It’s dark outside and I’ve slept for a few hours

Take a photograph through the window

No idea where we are but as good a place as any to freeze a moment

 

Intermittently we speed through a sleeping station

Ochre shadows and lamp lit stairs

For a second there the silhouettes of houses

Perhaps in one sits a man who cannot sleep

The only sound to break his silent contemplation being

The muffled thunder of the occasional night train

 

After some while hairline cracks of red on the horizon begin to break the black

Vague outline clouds and ghost trees, fences, fields, graffiti on a bus shelter

As grey turns to brown and yellow to green

The blur-past stations now possess occasional familiarity as stations often do

Kindly and reminiscent of past adventure

 

The train slows as it crosses the border

Little changes outside except the signage

But sleepy eyed within our carriage a sense of quiet contentment awakes

A new day in a new land

 

I alight at Portbou and watch as the train pulls onwards

Stretch and smile at the cat outside the cafeteria door

Blink up at the church and the blue-grey vista of rolling Catalunya

Forty five minutes until the train to Figueres

Time for coffee

 

I rummage for my notebook and pen and turn to a fresh page

I place the pen in readiness beside the book

Sit back and breathe

Today I was a Lion

 

Today I was a lion

I lay out on the lawn

With the cat by my side

And together

We were a small pride

Beneath the searing heat

Of the Serengeti

Well South Herts

To be precise

But it was nice

In our jungle garden home

And we would like to reassure you

That no antelope were harmed

In the making of this poem

Appearing on the legendary Bad Punk radio show on Resonance FM
Chatting to Imogen Arate on
Poets and Muses
Talking poetry and revolution with
Nothing in the Rulebook
Chatting with Kangkan at kmgreads
Chatting on St Albans Podcast
Featured in The Rebel Zine (XR)

Nice review from Mat at Sphinx

Dear Buddha featured in the

Sledgehammer Literary Journal

A lovely review from bookshortie

Friday Night Drinks at A Little Book Problem

 

Appearing on the Spoken Label

Podcast with Andy N...

Talking petry, music and Isolation Arts with Indian Periodical

Talking Patti Smith with Andy N. at The Sunday Tribune

Talking Kerouac, Lockdown & Revolution with Dane @ Wycombe Sound Arts Show!

A lovely review at Bunny's Pause!

1982

I kinda miss those days

Paris discotheques and cigarettes

Twelve inch coloured vinyl fix

Just riding the crest of a brave new wave

Suburban cavaliers on a mission

To shock and thrill in equal measure

A belted army raincoat with a slouch hat

Gentlemen’s Polaroids and Kool menthol

Dogs on street corners slick and sly

Whistling through the graveyard

On a hot summer night

All doo-wop highs and cheap perfume

A manifesto hewn from hours

Of pouring over insert words

Rebellion brewing in garden cities

Graffiti on your gated walls

Scaring the commuters

As we fall off the milk train

Sleep by day and prowl by night

The revolution is coming

In an old post office van

To a town near you

Get on board

Clear the way

The blank generation

Are here to stay

Screenshot_2021-01-21 The Herts Advertis
Herts Advertiser 21/01/2021

Angel Joe

I had this dream last night

Except it wasn’t a dream

As I wasn’t quite asleep

So more like a semi-conscious experience

And there I was on this desolate misty moor

Like Dartmoor or Exmoor

Or maybe Scotland

Next to a small gravel road

And there’s a signpost

With writing so small

That I can’t make it out

And it feels kind of familiar

Like I should know where I am

Except I don’t

You know that feeling

And I’m just wondering what to do

Which way to head

When I hear the sound of a car

Pulling slowly along the track

And suddenly there

This open top Cadillac

With Joe Strummer at the wheel

Shades and a country shirt

Hair slicked back fine

And he says

Hey Grae

Jump on board

Come on man

It’ll be OK

And there in that second

I know what he is saying

I mean what he is really saying

So I wave and say

It’s OK Joe

You go ahead

And he smiles

Like he knows

And drives off

Down the road

And I smile

Because now I know where I am

And it feels alright