Saturday, 3 November 2012


I smack
the same ball
at the same wall.

My version
of what’s in front
is a blinkered person
marching, drunk.

I’m a disgrace:
today I caught
a grayling fish,
lost my rainbow trout.

Apart from this,
I do exist;
a little bliss.

Wednesday, 31 October 2012

When Andrew’s at the karaoke,

eyes are drawn to a young star
that only wise men follow;
microphone and punching arms,
exuberant little fellow.

We look and look – he burns a hole
in boredom - can we learn
beyond our resignation, beer,
to tread the boards and burn?

Sunday, 28 October 2012


To all poets with
writer’s block – a small piece of
advice;- Don’t you start!