Full Circle

30 décembre 2014


Tender is the hour
Just shy of midnight
Archers are poised above violins
Pledges await along the Thames
The seal of a kiss
When the bells chime
Will you give me this dance?

Midnight strikes, Big Ben tolls
The purple sky ablaze above us
Let us then you and I
Hurtle through space
Sixty thousand miles per hour
Spin me dizzy
This is our only waltz

Midnight is the hour
When princes say good-bye
Here I sway empty-handed
As the Earth whirls round
And round and so do we
You and I so far apart
This cosmic twirl is all we share

Tomorrow on New Year’s eve
Let me renew my vow
Though I never held you nor ever will
You are my first and last dance of the day

Fish'n 41"x30"

This is the hour of the bird.
The meadow lies flat
tucked out of sapient clocks
– a stretch of space
leisurely still
cradled by the wings
the star-kissed shade
under the wings of birds

What is there, suspended,
by dint of feather?
A single step
and it scatters
folding the hour back in its nest,
meadow, acorns and all
And I’m left with egg-shells
ticking in my wrists.

Instructions to make it

31 janvier 2014

brew your bones

When time wheels overhead
Uncurl your skin to collect
The dew of seconds trickling past
Bristle up here and now and
Let the world brew your bones

Seep out with a sweep of an eye
To cup the sky and squeeze
your marrow alive
in wonderment
Let the world brew your bones


The mind is a dangerous place
For a man to dwell
It fogs up the world
With fumes of meaning
That aren’t out there to see
Yet burn him from within

Switch off the heart
And the haze will fade
A shame only the dead
Keep a clear head
For a man can’t be
Elsewhere but in the mind

Twenty curls of breath

27 août 2013

curls of breath

The tree in my lungs is the narrow perch
Where my birds bloom into breath
– How many songs are left
Coiled dangling deep in my chest?

Twenty curls of breath I count
Before the forest sounds no more
– What words to spell against the sky
Were I to unfurl their wings for you?

I sleep with birds and boughs within
And dream of songs for you without.

curls of breath

When I woke up more dead
Than I was yesterday,
I thought it was odd
To realise I had been
Alive to go to bed.


21 juin 2012

Reality is a demanding host;
Don’t shed your skin, it says,
Lest you forget your selves.
And we – heavy limbed – comply.

But at fiction’s door
Discard the shoe
Devolve existence
Bare – of soul – to watch

Eyes of Man

10 janvier 2012

Two faces in the sky,
mouths open on a silent dialogue.
The wind tugs at their skin
and soon they glide out of sight
out of shape,
two blobs of cloud
scudding in the sky.

¤ Magritte,  Faux Miroir

A street in June

6 janvier 2012

A street in June,
Singular cobblecoat
On the bones of the world –
Were it so arrow-straight
In simplicity.

Though side by side,
Men walk separate maps
– Their streets overlap
Into the line all see,
Opaque in multiplicity,

Yet when you brush past me,
Your world slips through mine;
We share bones of space, never lives.
I wish I walked your streets,
You, my faraway city.


3 décembre 2011

There was once a fish that was no fish
For it had no gills and spoke in gibberish.
Outcast in the stream it choked. How odd!
It could not do as the others did
And yet by them was deemed fishy.