Welcome to my poetry blog…

Thanks for stopping by.

I try to upload poems every few days when I can. Comments, feedback, tips, constructive criticism are all welcome. Do your worst! If you’re interested to know more about the author, see the About section. You can also follow me on Twitter, Instagram and Soundcloud.

My first collection of poetry is now available on Amazon in paperback and Kindle editions.

You can hear a recent interview I gave Manchester’s AllFM here.

The Sigh Forever

I keep so busy
with nothing much of note
Living, eating, working, sleeping
never putting pen to paper
never pushing myself
to reach for anything

I keep so busy
not really loving anyone truly
Wishing, wanting, lying, scheming
never giving myself completely
never really drinking in
the wine of what could be

First her and now you
The sigh forever
Is all I ever do…

Whatever happened to childhood dreams
To singing, painting, writing, loving
never having to pay or earn anything
never having to deal
with the cost of living

Whatever happened to the careless caress
Laughing, drinking, rolling, talking
never being sure of the time or day
never touched by anything
beyond the bed

First her and now you
The sigh forever
Is all I ever do

Is this all
I can ever do?

[2011]

Thanks for reading.

LIEBSTER Award

Hello dear readers… Fellow blogger, Darell Philip, has nominated my site for a Liebster Award; a way of sharing and discovering interesting new blogs on WordPress.

Darell’s site is well worth a visit. He covers news, opinion pieces and poetry. Check it out, if you get the chance:

https://darellphilip.wordpress.com/

My prize/punishment is to answer some of his thoughtful questions and nominate other great bloggers. Which I’ll attempt below:

QUESTIONS:

  1. What is your favourite book and why?
    • It’s very hard to choose just one, but the book I’ve read most is London Fields by Martin Amis. The prose is dazzling and every line drips with a cleverly constructed barb of black humour.
  2. What song do you currently have on repeat?
  3. Which season (Autumn, Spring, Summer or Winter) of the year best describes you?
    • I was a winter child but since I turned 30, I feel most alive in summer. Autumn is easily the most beautiful and inspiring season though. For me, the new year has always started in mid-September and Autumn has always been waiting there to paint it so colourfully.
  4. In the event of an emergency home evacuation what is the first item you grab?
    • My pet rabbit, she loves an adventure.
  5. Which historical figure would you most like to meet and why?
    • Does Carl Sagan count a historical figure yet? I’d love to talk space, humanity and the future with him.
  6. What makes a good blog?
    • I’m a sucker for a simple, easy to navigate layout. I’m here for the poetry above all else. So, a blog which recedes into the background and just showers me with delicious writing is what I long to stumble across. A mix of styles, quality over quantity and something which offers a bit of background or context about the author (even if it only helps to deepen the mystery/enigma) is a nice touch.
  7. Back to the past or forward to the future?
    • I would love to have traveled the world before globalisation; perhaps in the 1960s. I’m already headed into the future and quite happy where I am thanks.
  8. Your dream vacation?
    • I’d love to take a year out and explore everywhere in Asia, writing about the people I see and encounter.
  9. The greatest movie of all time?
    • Very hard to choose. I love the poetic cinema of Polish filmmaker Krzysztof Kieślowski (particularly The Double Life of Veronique) but I think the film which ‘has it all’ (for me) is Being John Malkovich; it has big ideas, it’s funny, silly, serious, sad, sci-fi, eccentric and melancholic.
  10. Wealth or health?
    • Health, 100%.
  11. Your proudest moment?
    • I’m proud of my career outside of writing and I’m proud of some of my writing. I don’t think there is one moment which stands out though.

MY NOMINATIONS:

Note to nominations: Don’t feel obliged to fill this out or to respond in any way. However, if you find yourself with half an hour to spare… Why not answer the same questions that Darell asked me and repost.

Thanks again to Darell for the nomination and to all the great writers and bloggers out there who inspire me every day. Please do check them out!

Devon Brock (the poetic champ who steered me onto WordPress): https://sweetandbittergreens.com/

John E Marks (a hundred floors above me in the Tower of Poem): https://johnemarks.wordpress.com/

Anonymously Hal: https://anonymouslyhal.wordpress.com/

Kimberly Ray: https://coffee-shop-sessions.com/

Ink of The Heart: https://kathrinesantos.wordpress.com/

Zerrgebiete https://zerrgebiet.wordpress.com/

Little Whisperer: https://littlewhisperer.com/

Lucy Works: https://lucysworks.com/

Poeeternal: https://poeeternal.com/

Feelings and Metaphors: https://feelingsandmetaphors.wordpress.com/

Tatterhood’s Musings: https://tatterhoodwitch.wordpress.com/

Finally, here’s a little piece which sums up what I love about writing and reading poetry:

Why Poems?

 

Poems are my photographs
my diary
my inner monologue
poems are my measurement
my record
the fingerprints of emotions
invisible no more
Poems are my expression
the sum of interactions
they show my working out
Poems are the breath
of lost lovers
against my neck
Poems are my kisses
for family and my friends
the hugs I seldom give

And your poems…
your poems keep me company
a little light
calling to my lost ship
I sip my tea
and slip into your mind…

 

Thanks for reading.

Listen to my poems on Soundcloud
Follow me on Twitter
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Buy my book on Amazon

Frightened Eyes

They don’t understand
being beautiful, being desired
They have no experience
of anything but
broken smiles
inconsequential voices
feeble phrases
and frightened eyes…

Frightened eyes
despise
everyone, everything
everyone and everything
Frightened eyes
consider lies
the currency of choice
to navigate the halls of hate
down which they walk every day
at everyone they pass, they laugh
and everything they see, they secretly
want, so badly, to be…

They don’t understand
being youthful, being vital
with no energy
for anything but…
vicious side-swiping
venomous debasing
violent de-throning
and squint-eyed loathing…

Squint-eyed loathing
seeping in
every hour, every day
every hour of every day
Squint-eyed loathing
the only thing
they undertake to truly know
deeper goes their insight into
scared-shitless creeping feelings
and everyone they meet, they mistreat
everything they learn, they, in return
want, so badly, to burn…

[2009]

Thanks for reading.

Feels So Far Away This Evening

October shed its skin
across these pavements
Now, November does its best
to wash the mess away
We glide down
the lonely streets of night
lost in appreciation
for the moody glow that guides us

You carry such a heavy heart this season
what was taken
brought you this blackness in exchange
and so I do
whatever I can
to lift it up for you

This dance of conversation
jig of gentle humour
all my attempt
to paint a more hopeful picture
Ease the crush of grief that’s levelled
by a cruel unfeeling world
And gratefully
I’ll give whatever part of me
might dull this pain for you…

There is hope
(I know you know this)
There is a hope
waiting to be held again
in those gentle, loving hands
(I know you know this)
yet it feels so far away this evening

You are loved by so many
(I know you know this)
There is nothing
but a pure, real, love and respect
flowing through my veins for you
(I know you know this)
but I wanted to remind you
in the hope
that you might cease to feel
so far away this evening…

[2013]

Thanks for reading.

Whereabouts

What strange gravities compel you?
Which strong seasons
manipulate the focus of your mind?
What forces are at work
governing your silences and interactions?
What are the properties of magnetic north
that keep you so firmly held there?

Which habits formed into crippling routine
Which once-cradled ambitions did you let burn away?
What hope, was it you had, for all of what you started
when you laid yourself beside her?

The peeling back of quiet moments…
The giving birth to living memories…
The quelling of hostile emptiness…
All these
oiled by flasks of brewed liquid…

What source of buried passion exists?
What reason for the unbridged distances of family?
What cold and clear window protects you
from the warm interactions of flesh and blood?
On what throne
beyond the claws of love exposed
do you stay slumped?
And what reasoning hangs from these vague choices?

The flame is weak and distant
the light is dim
The star that shines in you kept hidden
by clouds of distance and disinterest

What do you feel when you see me expanding here
growing into your shape on this reflective surface?
What do you think when you see me flexing skills
that must have been learnt from you?
Do you worry that shared talents means shared failings
Do you think to warn me against their dangers
give the gift of wisdom, just an insight or two
is there more that I could learn from you?

There is still some hope for healing
the withered roads that link our homes
There is still some hope for forging a bond
that will carry us into the future

O, but where are you
and where am I to you?
Where are you
and where am I to you?

[2013]

Thanks for reading.

Between A Blue Night and Dawn [with audio]

[Please click above to listen! Right-click and choose ‘Save as’ to download the Mp3]

Two lovers traveling
two lovers
meeting in the East

Their affair
was letters inked
and photographs
Now here embodied
will they know what to do?

She wakes him one morning, saying
‘let’s take a boat to an island
we’ll rise above the Bangkok smog’

Bike beneath them spluttering
her arms knitted around him
they race from bay to beach
chasing the burning sun
with hair wet and smiles wide

Their shoulders lapped by waves
she was beautiful
sitting on his knee
they felt married, waist deep
straw hats wilting in the brine

He thought ‘I could hold you here forever
I would kiss you
until the stars pepper the sky’

Between the music
from the bars off in the distance
and the love
dripping warmly from her words
a song composes itself over the ocean

Orion’s Belt above them
sand dancing between their toes
they rest upon the rocks
and she knows that she could love him
he wishes this night would never end
it’s one chance in their lifetimes
between a blue night and dawn

In a stilted shack on sand
her black hair spreads
like ink across the bed
longing dialling up their eyes
as the air between them boils
bodies’ voices blending

Two lovers traveling
two lovers don’t know if they’ll meet again
this could so easily have been
the love of their lifetimes

This could so easily have been
yet it existed only
between a blue night and dawn…

[2019]

Thanks for reading.

Reposted from February, now with an audio reading set to the track Green Arrow by Yo La Tengo.

A New Beginning

Leaves of brown and green watching
as the fire reveals a destiny for us
flames licking their lips at the change
of solid and tangible into smoke
On a beach of melancholy teenagers
destroying themselves for something
that they can’t explain or focus on
the big picture that is still being drawn…

Bottles of green and brown offering
their joyous and deceptive contents up
ready to infiltrate our consciousness
convince us that the weight has lifted
a sea of liquid to baptise our brains
then we dance and talk of this rebirth
forgetting all about thoughts of maths or progress
the new beginning we’ve been dreaming of…

Leaves of brown are falling in the sunrise
but day reveals that gravity has won again
our heavy heads are hard to lift now
and the breaking waves outside sing loud
A song of measured secrets that expose
themselves a beautiful harmony of movement
the moon under which we slept last night
brings them to us with it’s strong will

Bottles of green bloom in the sand
empty shells left behind from the war
we fought the best we could all night
and momentarily there was a surrender
a decoy that we fell for too easily
now, in the morning light, it’s obvious
the horizon arcs itself out before us
a new beginning comes every day
a new beginning is ours every day…

[2005]

Thanks for reading.

Ellipsis [with audio]

I don’t write them like I used to
they’re not carved out of my bone
the way they used to be

I don’t bleed over the carpet
in some mouldy rented bathroom
like I used to

They used to say it was the angst that drove me
some mild flair for painting what had pained me
but you have to make peace eventually
I don’t know what is driving this anymore

At the end of that final line there’s an ellipsis
at the end of all I said there’s an ellipsis
saying so much more than I

Now, I don’t sweat it out in twisted sheets
with cramped heart and cracked beliefs
surrendering my barbed emotions like a flag
the way I used to

I don’t tap that vein of pure unfocused bile
don’t let it gush across the front row of my imagined audience
they don’t say much about my unbridled verse these days
like they used to

At the end of every poem there’s an ellipsis
at the end of all I said there’s an ellipsis
dragging on and on

It speaks louder than I ever could…

[2014]

Thanks for reading.

Cinema Child

Standing on the sand
I watched the boats afloat
I thought to myself; I must look good
cinematic, brilliant, deep, mature
all eyes were on me, because I stood out
how they must love me…

As those ships drifted by
I’d be thoughtful
roll my eyes, look to the ground
with all the girls watching my ticks and style
I was sullen, moody, sexy, smart beyond my years
they’d love me…

And standing by the water’s edge I’d smile
those girls would find me in my tent that night
strip me down and pick me up, I’d be lost
I’d be so ready for the feelings I imagined
I’d be lovely…

Standing in the surf
I stole the show, all the people loved me
they loved me, even if they never said
or never looked… or never came…

And as I grew, I learned to see
I was just a boy, staring at the sea
a head of daydreams, ideals and fantasies
my image really; just childish, introverted
completely unapproachable

The girls, they didn’t come to me
I just stood on that shore by day
and ran through tall grass and summer rain by night
watching the waves from rocks and heights

My pretence, my best defence
the only way I ever felt okay
trying never to admit
I was young and lonely
I was so young and already so lonely…

[2003]

Thanks for reading.

Sewing It Together

Our footprints in the sand veer off
two different paths they’re treading now
you go on and live your life…

I’ll be here, I’ll be sewing it together
working the thread you taught me to weave
I go on and live my life…

You go on, for we both must grow
push the boundaries of all we can be
I’m grateful for the years in your love
I pray you’ll remember me the same

Even when the brightest spark had faded
and we both knew our time was ending
still you were my best friend
still you gave to me so much

Your fingerprints on my heart will linger
I hope they never fade, a gentle reminder
Now, you must go on and live your life…

I’m sewing it together, here
I’ll go on, as you’re sewing it together too
and I wish you only love…

[2009]

Thanks for reading.

Ghosts On The Platform

The early evening rain falls hard
treading the yellow line, I’m solemnly waiting
a little drunk, a little lost again
all too aware of where I’m not going
haunted by the ghosts littering this platform…

As she draws him in so close to her
he dips his head, accepts those smiling lips
begging, no, they’re beating to be kissed
as phantom hands journey all across her body
curves pushed tight on this freezing platform…

Now, thicker rain spits from a pitch black sky
lit orange, my face winces, squinting hard
twisted by the warmest dreams of last winter
all too aware of what remains trapped back down my tracks
haunted by our ghosts parading on this platform…

She holds the back of his head so firmly
his eyes open looking into hers so deeply
words shoot between, saying ‘I’d leave her for you
ask once and we’ll make this passion permanent’
as those ghosts merge like puddles on the platform…

Clattering lights approaching, shattering the moment
six empty carriages sailing down towards me
inside there’s shelter, some drab imagined safety
but no curves pushed close, no fingers locked tight
haunted by the ghosts on the platform of my mind

Journeying onward, journeying home
but haunted, always, by the ghost of you and I
and all we could have been…

[2016]

Thanks for reading.

Such Strange Light

Such strange light
washing out
into the long night

Generous with pigment
volcanic reds and stella blues
you see that damp look
on the snapshot of my face

I wish someone had told me
wish someone had just shown me
dad, you could have warned me

O, how it burns
how it hurts to see yourself
suddenly, with that clarity
kept reserved for other people

In the rear-view mirror
in that mirror

Cold slate evenings
rudely cut in two
and poking through the gaping night
such a strange, strange light

Fickle thought
fickle life
fucks all
fickle thought
fickle life
forgive me…

[2016]

Thanks for reading.

This Infinity [with audio]

I will never learn from my affairs
they bake within my heart but nowhere else
see, she looks at me
she may speak to me some short time
then suddenly and so completely
it’s all I feel
a love that is not real
all I can do is hang from her every movement…

Yet again, I’m helplessly hopeful for that breath
already feeding myself on the bliss of kisses promised
but those suggestions
don’t emanate from her
or anywhere but in my spiralled mind
as it fills with love for some ideal
all I can do is hang from her slightest smile…

The purity of beauty is a trap for me
my mind is weak and falls so quickly
before I can blink, it’s all that I can see
I twist until the heartbreak of this infinity…

If only obsession didn’t roost inside these bones
if only my mind knew some subtle patience
I’ll lay myself down in that spinning room
try to think of something else or someone other
but no thought can form while she has not spurned
all I can do is hang myself on her polite decline…

The purity of beauty is a trap for me
I build myself a cave so homely
lie scheming on the hope that she embodies
and twist until my heart breaks
in this infinity…

[2010]

Thanks for reading.

The Prettiest Music [with audio]

The heat shifts between rooms
from the front of the house, to the back
on the bed, your curled form is laid
I watch the sky as it cries in the street
blowing my nose, counting the people
they carry bags of food to their cars
filled with treats and sweet desserts
As I move to the kitchen, you stir for a second
this day is turning dark in the light from the loft
shadows dance, from the candles you lit

By the stove, I pause to warm my hands
not sure what to do, I don’t want to wake you
I sit back at the window, take up my book
but there are no new words to read and I place it back
if only the story would change of it’s own accord
O, I think it’s time for some movement
a raising of the silence, let the music in
just some small tune to warm this room
and your sweet progression of chords kissing my ears
I lie down beside you, cup your face
whisper some sickly greeting as you focus up on me

Come on love, we should make a song
you are the music and I am the words
you are the music and I am the words
we should make a song, my love
we should make a song
you are the music and I am the words
you are the prettiest music
and I am the most grateful words…

[2004]

Thanks for reading.

Bonfires [with audio]

I was living certain and sure
of the future I desired
A house by the water
sea air kissing my eyes
before I brave the morning paper

A figure framed in a gaping doorway
watching freighters skim the horizon
Rest my coffee cup on the fence
slide a nail down this foreign envelope
draw the perfumed letter from within

The paper see-through
like her summer dresses
My fingers beneath it
don’t do justice
to the gentle tan of her skin
or the constellations
of those freckles

“They’re building bonfires
down in the city park” she writes
“I’m jealous of that fire
and that flame
I think of the fireworks
that only we saw
I recall those fireworks
with a dampness in my eye

The realness of the fantasy
we’d be painting daily
between the thighs and sighs
and all the magic we brought forth
our bodies so alive”

Signed off with red lipstick
and the creases of her mouth
it’s suddenly not so obvious
why I made my home here
It’s suddenly so unclear
why I made my home here

And I look out to see
they’re building bonfires
down on the beach
O, I’m jealous of that fire
and that flame

How I long to feel
the creases of her lips
pushing hard
against mine…

[2020]

Thanks for reading.

The Sea At Night Does Not Rest

Too tired to rest
I only care
are you out there somewhere
A glass of cheap wine
on the arm of some expensive chair

And do you…
could you
think of me sometime
maybe…
while I’m still alive

The gravity of your movements
swells the tides of my emotions
and you’ll probably never know
You drag me to ecstasy
then to lowest ebb
and you’ll probably never know

You amaze me
with your vagary
I could fall in love so easily
but you won’t let me

Could you
think of me sometime
could you
think of me sometime
maybe…
while we’re still alive…

[2010]

Thanks for reading.

Tunnels

Tunnelling in the dirt below my feet
I’ve been digging for weeks
carving this hollow so deep
Today, I hit bone

This is heavier work than I imagined
we surveyed the ground from beyond the fence
both agreed that this was right
but now this toil
is breaking me apart

As a new day rises
I’m crying in the shower
never knew I could feel this low
crying in the shower
with the taps turned up to ten
never knew this pain was in me

She works elsewhere, broken too
she rests elsewhere
with someone new

This is the lowest point
promise me, please let this be
the lowest point

She will undulate and warp
she too will dig her way through
and when she climbs out of her tunnel
she’ll be who she’s become
and the person I loved will be gone…

She may smile the same way sometimes
she may shout me some echoey ‘hello’
but the person I loved will be gone

As I hack away the earth
I pause, wipe my brow and grieve
mourning the person, the love, the way of life
that will be buried when this work is done

Everyone’s heart gets bloodied sometimes
I never thought I’d choose this path
never understood the way
the pain could grip you in your bones each night
as you work your way through the tunnel

Promise me
it’s on from here
out of this tunnel
my work complete
and back up again
towards the light…

[2009]

Thanks for reading.

Listen to my poems on Soundcloud
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Step Change

Tear the statues down
put them in a museum
have their achievements weighed
against their modern moral faults
Give them context
It feels wrong to venerate
values we no longer share

Tear the problematic statues down
it’s time to move on
They’ve had their light
they’ve had their vaunted praise
let them slip into the past
I don’t want to walk beside
the likeness of a slave trader
on my morning commute
despite their pigeon-shit coat
that always makes me smirk

Tear the statues down
The older folks may say it’s a pity
the folly of an ignorant youth
but times; they change
often abruptly
and sometimes it’s appropriate
to force a step change
to send a message
Like scientists reevaluating theories
based on new research
Shouldn’t we reassess
elevated heroes of the past

Tear the problematic statues down
let’s build new ones
better ones
let them inspire hope and unity
and in 100 years, if they must fall again
then so be it
History is not lost because of it
books will go on, museums go on
providing that all-important context
for those who seek it…

[2020]

Thanks for reading.

Listen to my poems on Soundcloud
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A Most Comfortable Prison

The jailer, he’s invisible
yet we’re reminded, daily
he still stalks these corridors
a violent crown upon his brow
turning folk to dust
My marker-pen tally on the wall
begins to eats itself
time moves differently here
it’s a snake, a valley
a constellation
in this most-comfortable prison…

The weather has a mainline to my mood
there’s a shadow in my mind
it blooms or it recedes
with the strength of that sun
The days fluctuate
resizing, bipolar
claustrophobic
or giftedly free
to walk newly discovered lanes
in this most-comfortable prison…

The smiling faces of old friends
glimpsed, as if backwards
through a telescope
so far removed
and blurred around the edges
Our conversations stilted
on satellite delay
How I long to crack
my usual sarcastic comments
and not be inter-
(timing is everything)
-rupted
in this most-comfortable prison…

From my favourite armchair
I’ve been glued to screens
feeling like a dog
killing time until my next walk
wondering of the world beyond these walls
it all seems so dangerous
but such a beautiful memory
in this most-comfortable prison…

There are no other voices here
yours and mine alone
it goes to show how well we fit together
I feel we’re closer now than ever
Looking in the mirror this morning
you remind me of that mantra
we’re both repeating daily
‘you’re one of the lucky ones
you’re one of the lucky ones
in this most-comfortable prison…’

[2020]

Thanks for reading.

Listen to my poems on Soundcloud
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Poetry Readings: Listen Now

Give your tired eyes a rest, take a long bath, go for a drive in the countryside and fill your ears…

Below is a playlist of 30 of my poems read aloud. Some have been injected with added ‘atmosphere’ and a couple are set to music. If you’ve not listened before, maybe now’s the time? If you have, there are a couple of new recordings dotted throughout. It’s free to listen. If you make it to the end, there’s also an hour-long interview discussing writing, music and fountain pens…

What better way to spend the next hour of your life… 😉

Thanks for listening.

P.S. If anyone is interested in collaborating on setting words to music (and can provide the music to accompany my words) please get in touch! tom.alex.write@gmail.com

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