Archive for british poetry


Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on July 1, 2018 by dc

Summer’s moorside streets
Sat beside the burning peat
All noir soaked in smoke


That Etiquette Machine

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , on April 14, 2018 by dc

That etiquette machine
With its hushed brittle words
And cranky decrees,

Rattling stiff-lipped
Through the purring
And churning decisions,

It haunts us around tables
And stutters our tongues,

Then moistens our palms,
Documenting our wrongs.

That etiquette machine,
Clockwork set, never glitching,
Forever twitching in time,

A skin-tight concerto
Of head shakes and sighs
And a mirthless conclusion,

All notes, no surprise,
No applause, no white lies,

Just the faint sound of tutting
And a muted goodbye.


Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , on April 9, 2018 by dc

Illuminated, scattered,
Rattled by lightning
And grappling fear,

They were here,
They were there,

These galloping thoughts
That jumped fences
Then trenches,
Ran scared,

We were watching
From mountains,
Behind bushes and trees,

We were hunting them
Looking for something
To please us

And leave us
With something
Uneasy but new.

The Accordian Effect

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , on March 4, 2018 by dc

They thought they knew him
And then he seeped into rivers,

Shivered haikus
Under lullaby rain,

Uttered forecasts
From wild tidal seas

And quivered

The zeitgeist pipe dream,
The gadabout sage.

He came back
Some months later,

Outlined simplicity
And kissed all the babies,

Praised God
In third person

And created
A slideshow.

He sat on the couch
Like a brother

And sang someone else’s
Words in slow motion.

He drank luke warm tea
And praised meditation.

He was into mountaineering
And chess.

He bent the truth
Until it fit in his ruck sack

And moved round the town
Like a King,

Step by step,
Freshly threatened,

And rattling.


Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , on February 17, 2018 by dc

In the suburbs of disaster
Where the tools sit new and untouched,

I spent winters running from answers,
I went looking for questions unloved.

I found fresh regret lost in a car park,
An old cigar only half smoked,

Weird whistles and mumbling strangers
Conjuring new ways to choke.

Captains One Minute

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , on February 16, 2018 by dc

They look for light on the moors,
Their dialogue is spent,

Puzzled pieces grouping,
The wind a looping moan

Tumbling through charcoal,
Breathing wintery shadows,

All seems lost and uneasy,
Ice whispers and frost,

Guessing through darkness,
Thoughts and landscape all riddled,

Nothing hills and reservoirs,
Snaking tracks and scattered birds,

The hum of pylons all consistent
As the nightmares start to stir.


Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , on February 9, 2018 by dc

See the
Adulating smiles
He has drawn on
All these strangers,

Poking fingers
In their dreams
Like a child
In summer’s paws,

He is golden,
He is chosen,
He is never
One of yours.