Where First We Met
An ode to survival stretched between two beings which resonates back and forth. It also doubles as a rope ladder …
Tag Archives: Poetry
Like a Frisbee, into the Lampblack Night
Ontogenesis I am cold, he said. Then wear me as a cape, she replied. And so he did, donning her, …
In Honour Of Lawrence Ferlinghetti
A wonderful poet, one of my favourites and by gum he lived a long life, 101 when he died on …
Looking Picturesque and Mythical with These Two Feathery Maniacs
I am deep in edits at present, along with surviving the apocalypse. (At least the fattened Ming the Merciless has …
The Pleas of the Bombinating Bees
If you found the wings story chewy, take a breath and suspend your belief (and suspenders in relief) yet further …
On the Demented Mountaintop
This poem came back to me during this last week, promoted due to the edge-of-the-seat election (not over until the …
Dusk
Going Blind by Rainer Maria Rilke (1918) (First translation) She sat just like the others at the table. But on …
Rolling Up the Wall
The accumulator calumniator: A spender in dark mottled splendour Which has coined a thousand phrases Drops — never has it …
Mine
Mine. Step in for a moment, The time it takes, The multiple seconds (Perhaps repeated, If you’re feeling generous Or …
High Solace Nation
A Cloud with a girl midst its mist Played isolative tunes and got pissed; Her pogo and wobble Could make …
To Trachea Illuminati
Rather than go dark, my muse decided (never asks Esme mind, just strikes when I’m not looking. Cheeky sod) to …
Sometimes I feel it is my fate to chase you screaming up a tower
(I’m late so far as the theme, I know, sue me (if you can find me)).This poem made me laugh …
The Scullery Maid
Superb poetry from Mike Steeden here; my reblogs always beggar up so I’m pasting it along with the linkage to …
Simulcast Fragment – 1825210005 – Lucian E. Fabble – The Ghost of Your Writer
The following letter and subsequent verses were found by rail guard Lucian E. Fabble on the first day of November …
The Ill-advised Musings of a Svengali Surgeon
He said . . . I will make you my Helen of Troy, dearest one, Disguise the crow’s …
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