breasts

Who’s breasts these are I think I know Her face I can’t remember though She will not see me looking down The top of her white-laced gown She’s telling me about the ballet And how her boss got sacked Tuesday I stare longer than intended I think she might be offended I try very hard not to look At her …

question no. 37

are we meant to suffer? P.S. In 1995 my unit was notified that we would be deploying to Bosnia. We were marched into the post theater to hear a presentation from our brigade commander. He used this video to set the tone for what he was about to say. That day remains forever etched in my memory.

my birthday poem

This is in very rough shape as I just woke up and it rolled off my pen this morning, but I want to post it before the day runs away from me: Thirty-nine years ago I was without form and void In the darkness of my mother’s womb I could have been anyone But for a lone warrior who Fought …

on meeting my muse

Green eyes burn fierce like a trash can on Fire Black hair falls short on slender shoulders Black dress mocks the night hides the mystery of subtle hips Black monster boots boosts height three inches taller Painted green dragon breathes fire on back Against skin like milk on a silk dress She fades into the night like an ethereal white …

pure and good and right

It’s open mic poetry time again in Leamington Spa and I’m performing a few pieces.  So if you’re around this Sunday, 19 August, come on down to The Fox for a little pure and good and right.  The headlining poet is the one and only Spoz, Birmingham’s poet laureate. The show starts at 19.30 at the FOX, Clarendon Avenue, Leamington …

in the beginning was the Word

My words are freedom words. With words I set my Self free from forces unchecked festering in old wounds, stagnate in pools of my own bile fruit-less Words expand consciousness Words connect and disconnect subconscious With intellect The new science of words Words that change minds In the beginning was the Word and God said And it was so. Everything …

behind enemy lines

My father child of war went off to the jungle came back a whore He brought back his broken body but behind enemy lines he left his mind And his soul too.  He must have seen something in the light we couldn’t see Because he’d turn out the lights and crunch ice in the dark for hours Until he left …

cornwall

I spent last week in Cornwall on part two of my summer holidays. I’ve wanted to visit Cornwall since I moved to the UK. 7 years later and I’m finally visiting what has been described as the English Riviera. Well on day one it was all English and no Riviera. It rained like crazy while the wind laid siege to …