the face of god is never muffled against the wind the face of god is exposed waiting through the ravages of time through eternity every direction points to home each step away is one pace closer there are times when asking questions is a way of changing answers and it’s only the big ones keep … Continue reading ramble

spe-lli-ng b-y nu-mbe-rs

Poem #18 from Small Town Kid Small Town Kid will be posted (again) as a complete collection a little way down the track. Other, currently published and available, collections can be found here.   I learned to spell in small numbers multiples of three has five and one remainder mul-tip-les-oft-hre-e sometimes I would mis-spell words deliberately … Continue reading spe-lli-ng b-y nu-mbe-rs

communion of the spirit

    by stealth it is becoming akin to a spiritual obligation the execution of which is driven by an emerging need kneeling in the fading dusk he is creating holes in new-turned soil with a finger or a thumb inserting a slender seedling into each hole as he makes them firming the dirt around … Continue reading communion of the spirit

Mis-arrangement of Flowers

One last contribution in my role as Flâneur there were roses in the bottom of a rubbish bin on main street down in chelsea the wrapping paper informs me they've never been inside a vase as I was butting out a cigarette on the metal-edge of the bin I wondered why they were discarded still tightly … Continue reading Mis-arrangement of Flowers

a private eye

naked on decking the heat of middle day unravels layers renders them unnecessary in this seclusion wearing a cigarette I gaze into the double-storey across the road through the street-facing window to the corner upright of a stairway people walk up bounce down engaged with domesticity they do not know I exist that I watch … Continue reading a private eye

confusing realities (a sound of thunder)

Good morning. I am in Baghdad. It is one o'clock in the morning here. The weather is fine. Except for the bombing. Radio interview with a resident of Baghdad, 25 March, 2003 I thought I heard the sound of thunder but the clouds are light and high there is sunshine it was a low threatening … Continue reading confusing realities (a sound of thunder)

in the offices of …

Wade, Waddell and Schwimm, Will Waddell speaking (mwak). What’s that? What’s that? No, Schwimm’s not here. He was found where, (mwak)? Without his paddle (mwak, mwak)? He was doing what? (mwak) (mwak) Hmmmm. We may have to promote Schwann, next. Wade Waddell and Schwann – (mwak) it’s got a ring to it. Yes, it’s got … Continue reading in the offices of …

there – at the gorge

A Poem a Day in September: #31 Inspired by the pastel painting: View from Spring Creek Bridge by Leanne Murphy did I once swim in that sweet pool where a rose-blush lies upon the honey and laughter bubbles the white water under the curtain shelf of the little waterfall was that a glimpse of me … Continue reading there – at the gorge