Scratching the surface

I don’t make time for these porked scratchings anymore. Sacrilegious as they were.


after effect poetry

I’m experiencing grief and gravy.

Maybe not, I could be lazy or crazy.

Struck with disbelief- how can someone just not be there.

How- how in this space that we stare. Vacant lot, this empty spot that I’m feeling. Bye now, gone. No more stealing, stealing myself away from you, running away because you’re gone. Gone. Gone. Gone? Where, no longer here, or near, not to be found, nor around, underground. Six foot, less you were small, killed, lots, misplaced, hurt, renting my heart open. Dead from a fall. Just find me a sharp edge, this long stairway to heaven has me looking up and down and no matter which way it goes I’m stranded or stuck. Still after emotion plonks me of lifts

me up to nowhere but a state, sorry and lost and sick and cold. Stupefied by your absence. How, how and where – are you now?

Life can not be too easy

You should only do things you want to do. That’s what I said to myself. Not out loud, of course.

What are all those things I don’t want to do? What are they all about, and why are there so many options?


Each night I build a sandcastle at the high tide. I return to the sandpit the very next day. Sometimes it’s there and I build higher. Other days I go for a walk or a swim and forget it all. The walls crumble and the spires flatten. Tomorrow will come, and the sand will be mine.


Vitamin A – first on my list.
Vitamin B – to be or not to be.
Vitamin C – my favourite of all. Good for you and good for me.

Hotel Back Yourself

Hotel Back Yourself – I didn’t book any accommodation, I went out and planned to sleep with someone else. They could foot the bill.

I broke the words with mm. Two gulls on the horizon. Drawing strange links.
Do rappers find the meaning in words, all sounding alike. Revamped.
Panting. Hopeless.