Category Poetry

“This train is for Cardiff Central.” Blokes in ones and girls in twos. Some in boots and some in shoes. “All tickets please.” Punk with nose ring. Ginger hair. Babe in arms. Collapsed pushchair. “The next station is Stockport.” Kids…

His work hangs on the gallery wall. We hear its buzz. We’re in its thrall. Each piece still humming with the thrum. As strong as when the work was done. That clay was soft and took the mould Of artist’s…

Now as the dusk is drawing in Around these weathered cottage walls The birds sing out an evening hymn Their last before the darkness falls And carried on a gentle breeze Which shimmers through the grass and trees A haunting…

ISIL I whisper je t’aime. You shout hate. I hold hands. You hack them off. The stain on my tablecloth is wine. Yours is blood. I bare my throat for a kiss. Not a knife. Strap children to my chest.…

He’d forgotten how to listen. To still his knotted mind until the sounds untangled. Untied one by one from the thrum. Listened. Registered. Identified. Appreciated. More, much more than mechanical. No eardrum beat alone. But notes in a symphony. The…

Butterfly wing tip Kaleidoscope fragment of A summer now past

He wore the words like a necklace. Each silent syllable a bead. Pearl by pearl, a string of unspoken sentences. His favourite book steepled on a sunken chest. Treasure without end. I wonder now what page my mother chose. What…

Invisible twine Connected by pheromones Bound by chemistry

While you were sleeping The Plough cut a furrow across the field of night. Owls hooted and screeched in it’s wake Feasting on the shiny seeds of light that Orion cast from the pouch hitched to his rhinestone belt.

The owls were sated. Full of moles and torn up scraps of suede-skinned voles. Plucked from the ground in the dead of night by the white-winged warrior with the gift of flight. They didn’t hear the approach of death for…