Works in Progress The Shop there’s a shop up in Albany Road – a supermarket actually it’s always rammed trolleys jammed students, suits and shirkers academics, social workers it’s too much for me I’d rather be in bed   What I See It’s raining here in Shropshire He had a temperature of a hundred and [...]

A Visit to Margam Steelworks (i) FIRST IMPRESSIONS   Roads meandering Imposing structures Imposing structure Meandering roads   Giant Nostrils Disgorging Clouds Winds disturbing Black noxious dust   Railway tracks Slow-down bumps Black puddles Yellow jacks   Distance Miles Lives Lived   Bad Smell Taste Sound   Sight.   #   (ii)   FAT FLIES [...]

cleansed he returns to his work ready he takes his tool (no – not that kind, you dirty-minded bugger) he makes the marks and starts to pare more gently than before softer than before slower than before the shape will come it will be what it’s meant to be and he will be what he [...]

The rush of existence, the crush of the game Everything changes, it’s always the same   Related Posts:Some unedited odds and endsA visit to Margam steelworksfirst words

A series of poems (circa 1999) On a Broken, Worn Out, Cheap, Plastic, Cigarette Lighter.   ( i )  Oil processed, metal mined, Gas released, so refined; Cog turning, flint burning; Ergonomically designed.   ( ii ) reflections on a cigarette lighter: distorted – not much.    ( iii )  Shall I compare it to [...]

(written September 2001) Twin Towers I was wounded first – the blow caught me in the neck. I couldn’t breathe, then – with a whoosh of fire, my mouth opened and huge clouds of smoke fled out. I didn’t realise I had such energy, such love. I smiled when I knew I was dying; I [...]

  Here we have a stopping stone a place to pause and be alone Take it in your hand and stare at nothing in particular Rub it clean and roll it round let it rest upon the ground Chuck it, kick it, lob it high watch it dropping from the sky Let it rest, be [...]

Everyone should have a cat, if not their own a borrowed one. The cat will sit and clean its fur, wiggle its claws inside its ear, stare at you from time to time, sneer at your silly rhyme.   Related Posts:Some unedited odds and endsA visit to Margam steelworksfirst words

A poem from a few years back – playing with audio recordings [Audio clip: view full post to listen] transcript below   Where is Your Song? What is there to sing about in the dirty valleys of Wales? The land of my fathers’ follies, the land of Mam’s poison cake. Where sheep flood the green [...]

- forty years ago I would have called him an old man if I had noticed him at all he would have slippered past me in the corridor and smelled of pee I would have held my breath for a step or two and now he’s me – Related Posts:Some unedited odds and endsA visit [...]