Sunday, 25 January 2026

the breaking news breaks me

 the breaking news breaks me


reading the headline


  nurse shot by ICE


the drizzle cries outside of my

no no  noooooooooooo

for the cord on the news bundle

has been cut and will hang for ever

for my shame at being unable

has disabled me again

Saturday, 24 January 2026

sorry to hear you are (very) unwell

 sorry to hear you are (very) unwell


where we dare not go 

but are heading 

into a headwind of words 

that are blown away 

like useless leaves 

that in actual fact

are the footstool

of springtime

Wednesday, 21 January 2026

oh dad

 oh dad


toast with melting butter

tea just so and then

the door closed the dark out

he went out somewhere 

where he always went with

my thought that is was nice toast

such nice toast by the fire

in his special chair a smile 

a mile wide wrapped around

that feeling of warmth 

for ever more

Tuesday, 20 January 2026

just ice

 just ice


the pin caused a stroke

there was no blood lost

although the northern lights

were bright red that night

and singing was heard 

far away

a Ouija board

spelled out ‘justice’

Sunday, 18 January 2026

draft

 draft


a poem pops up

either side of sleep’s border

the sandman hits snooze

but the games afoot

‘complete’ becomes a word

upon which the moon smiles

smug with it’s silver ink 

it has edited it all before

over the mountains of its disregard

wide eyes smile


well i went like …

well i went like …


i am so small

the universe is so big

and yet

when i no longer exist

neither will the universe 


where do birds go to die

i rarely see a dead bird

to another universe perhaps


what if   what if

when i die i am born in another universe 

where i am writing a poem just like this

and you are reading it

just like this


no not reading it ‘just like this’

but just like this poem ❤️

because it could be my ticket to immortality 


i got the immorality bit sorted already


like 

Saturday, 17 January 2026

a mirror reflected see

       a mirror reflected see


to wear your heart on your sleeve

        giving it all away

isn’t that what they say

well they certainly saw you

                      for

is it not their adumbrations  

       that delineate you

that arrest your outward flow

that send your stationary waves

               slap back

against your home quay walls

 for your ship has docked you

              once more

Friday, 16 January 2026

relax

 relax


everything 

is fine

if it were not so

you would be the first to know

is that not so so


relax

‘the enemy’

 ‘the enemy’


we live in the days of ‘the enemy’

or it seems 

ask 

has it not always been so


you might disagree

strongly being a sort of enmity 

if we cannot talk it through


‘my friend’

Wednesday, 14 January 2026

tiny lot

 tiny lot


when i was tiny

the room was big

now i am big

the room is tiny

what happened 

half way

super supper

 super supper


sunset

the soup is simmering

winter is whimpering 

the summer sun

has been released 

from the roots of soils

toiled in warm days

for warmth today

as welcome as rain in may

Tuesday, 13 January 2026

remember this

 remember this


i never memorise 

my poems flow forth

molten metal under slag 

to extemporise

would freeze the spout

would allow the slag to shine

when all that is ever needed

is to burn under the branding 

iron willed to their poke ayes out

to sear memories like lava

that consumes all countenance 

Sunday, 11 January 2026

this too shall pass

this too shall pass


the anti-trump poems

are being written in their hearts

be sure to be a reader

and not one of the bloody farts

Saturday, 10 January 2026

just a moment

just a moment


the poet

gave me a moment

it’s there on the brocade

with all the other moments

that amount to moments

however incomplete 

the memories are 

they are 

nevertheless 

more or less

the sum 

of 

all 

their 

parts

Thursday, 8 January 2026

the day they shot the poet


the day they shot the poet


they deported

the last disposition of a poet

that would have told tomorrow

of today of how it died

in all the brutality of suddenly


they have shot tomorrow today

and hearts unrelated to this

cry 

for the poet as a person

who wrote and wrote

but will never do so again


we say never again

again and again they shoot never again

so that they may think they own today

but death has folded the list 

of their wrong doings 

it is lodged in too many hearts to be extirpated

for who will deliver their mail 

or deliver their take-aways


and of course the poem 

full of their just desserts