January 2012
25 posts
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Synopsis and Shoes →
over at the blog today I got to ask all kinds of questions about writing a synopsis to the really rather super Nicola Morgan. A must-read for anyone who wants a publisher.
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Monsters
Monsters
There are monsters on our streets.
I’ve seen their footprints,
Seen hints behind smoked glass,
Seen glints on paths
Like shards of broken condoms in the aftermath.
I’ve seen houses boarded,
Seen hoardings placarded with warnings,
And heard stories whispered on street corners.
I’ve seen the evidence they leave,
The detritus and the dross each morning,
The lonely and the lost,
The...
RIP Emma
I wrote a card today. It was to the parents of a friend whose funeral is being held tomorrow. She took her life just before Christmas by throwing herself in front of a train. How do you begin to write under those circumstances? It’s been weighing on me for days. I caught myself, this morning, thinking “this is too difficult,” and then I thought about her parents, and the husband...
What Happens If I Push That One? →
The lovely Workshy Fop lets me talk about the importance of Trying. New. Things
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Her Body
Words to go with the video you can find here
Her body
Was the canvas where you painted your myths
In come and similes and piss
The focal point of all your bliss
The only part of her you’ll ever miss
Her body
Will be a vanishing point in the desert
A line in the sands of time
Running through your hands
The silken strand
That drags your eyes
To the horizon
Where your future stands
The...
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After She Stopped
“You could look at it forever, couldn’t you?”
It was my first visit to the Hilbert Gallery. I’m not sure why I was there. Maybe it was raining outside. Maybe there a meeting I needed to miss.
Looking at the screen, I thought the words were part of the exhibition.
I stood there staring at images that seemed to change every ten seconds or so, wondering how much of my life would be too much to...
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Petals
I was told yesterday that a former colleague took her life shortly before Christmas. We weren’t very close friends, but we were certainly friends, and close enough to have been out drinking more than several times. This is an old poem of mine, but posted here for the first time, and for her.
And a reflection, because we always wonder at times like this what we could have said, or whether we...
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Live Bed Show
You picked me up over espresso
in Bar Soho,
cut me open,
and found neon glowing through my veins
and as I bled the blood that flowed
formed pools that spelled
Live Bed Show
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Alibi
The words to the previous video
Alibi When you fail, you cry Because you believed the lie That if you try With all your might If you pursue a single line of sight Looking neither to the left nor right, Ignoring the distractions and delights There is no height You cannot reach So when you don’t You’re the failure, right? Not them. Your dreams provide their alibi. But I know there are things I’ll...
