Friday, 15 July 2016


More poems from my recent trip to Oregon.
There is some worth in capturing your impressions of a place as quickly as you can. I keep a notebook with me at all times and often just jot down lines, or ideas that I can work on later.
This first poem came from two such entries made a couple of hours apart that upon rereading wrote the poem.


The big white wooden letters of the sign on my motel room wall orders me to RELAX.

Through the wall, I hear a couple talk too loudly.

They argue at a pitch they do not believe will carry.

Perhaps the sign in their room commands them to BICKER.
 The second I wrote in a restaurant and I hope it captures the essence of the subject.


He has the obligatory tatts
and shorts that show a Tiki,
as bees swarm around his calf;
a goatee; is bald.
And on his nearest bicep
the hint of Karloff's Frankenstein.
I simply wanted to capture the impression of a person in passing, to sketch out half the outline in the hope that it will tell all.
Here's a video of Anna Ternheim singing Show Me the Meaning of Being Lonely, a hit originally for the Back Street Boys I believe.

Friday, 8 July 2016


I am just back from a trip to Portland in Oregon, a place I have wanted to visit for a long time. This post consists of a sequence of poems I wrote while over there.

First impressions Portland

On his head a Hydra hat,
metallic, chrome green sheen.
The seven snakes bob
as he twirls on his right heel,
paper barista coffee cup,
in his left hand.
He fills the sidewalk,
that's the pavement to me,
just off the plane and taking it all in.
Perspective may come tomorrow.

after colluding with the weather app the rain outsmarts me

however as I am not made of salt or sugar I will not melt

nor be in anyway diluted by the rain dripping off my nose

The man on the checkout
of the cooperative, organic food store,
nails my accent in one,
then narrates his two year drama degree
in London,
in somewhat non-committal terms.
Then to Hollywood
where he was up against electricians from Bradford,
guys from Ipswich, who really fancied their chances.
Every English wannabe!
Our transaction is completed
before I can listen to the next instalment.

Nearly 8am, looks like rain, a couple are packing their lives in to a suitcase, they cross the road to cross the square, I notice a book in her hand entitled Hope.
I do not want to make these poems into some sort of journal of my time in Portland. They are simply impressions. 
I leave you with The Decemberists.
Until next time.

Friday, 1 July 2016


 Another couple of revised poems this post.
The first was written last year after I watched a firework display for free.
I have changed the layout, it now has a line break that I think allows the poem to breathe. It is always worth spending time trying different layouts.

Gracie & Harry's Poem
5.11.15 Deal

it draws you outdoors
echoes across the houses
this is how dolphins navigate
in sonic sketches

we are drawn to a street corner
with other humans
to watch fireworks for free
to evaluate each blossom against our memories
it is over too soon
This second poem has had the lines moved around and I think it works better. If you find yourself with a poem that is not quite working move some of the lines about and see if that helps or hinders. That is the beauty of using a computer. A word of warning- keep all the different drafts.


made in russia
my analogue watch
much repaired
by chance
this once
mirrors the digital time projected on to the wall
it will not last
gears and entropy
will do for it and for me
Entropy is a common theme for me. It probably comes from growing up in the 1960's and reading too much science fiction about the heat death of the universe. I blame Michael Moorcock myself!
I leave you with Lizzie Nunnery and Vidar Norheim singing Company of Ghosts in 2015 in Glossop. Any chance of a new album chaps?