Archive for manchester poet

Cracked Sundays

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on October 23, 2011 by dc

We stare at each other
Through kaleidoscopes broken,

Two drunk flies on shit,
A conversation rolling
Down a hill,

A junction
At it’s base,

Wincing through broken glasses;

And we’re too polite
To continue with our
Dizzy repartee.

We stop,
Look both ways
And rub our hands.

There’s a song
That sings somewhere.

We laugh till we cry,
Part and then shudder


The Past Pickled

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on October 19, 2011 by dc

The past as it haunts
Jars and pickles memories
Till the skins come loose

And The Band Were Called Free Spirit

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 16, 2011 by dc

Eyes aglow
With crack house

Alabaster skinned
With a fortunate

We’ve seen
All these moves

The curled lip,
The awkward
Indie flamingo pose,

And now we know


Piss wet
And splintered,

Has forgotten
The tree

Saying Goodbye

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on October 9, 2011 by dc

I tried to break the rules
And found myself toothless,
Curled up on a shed floor,
Whispering to gods
That didn’t exist,

The flickering
Polaroid breakdown,
Aghast  under cobwebs.

I remember the smell
Of dried mud on the trowels,
The grass on the lawnmower blades,
The heartbeats that coughed
And the tears.

Where are you now
Songbirds that littered my garden?
Perfumed reflections,
Tranquil digressions
And the calm twisted
Bodies of dawn?

I still swarm over meadows,
The hunt for direction continues,
The brief warmth of air streams
Puckered then popped,
Shocked like an Indian summer.

There were glimmers of hope
Till the rain fell,

And now it’s a wandering,
Shivering secret
That I’ve kept in my pocket
For years –

I’m not looking for someone,
I’m dreaming revenge,

I’ve stitched up these rainclouds,
Every breath brings the lightening,
Shaking the glorious sky,

Black like the gaps in my teeth,
A fresh way of saying goodbye.

The Glorious Has-Been Alliance

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on September 29, 2011 by dc

The true ally
Will probably be
This calendar year.

Take heed my son
And stand in line.

Any real non-believer
Can decide to coat
Their colours
On masts.

Follow t-shirts
In the summertime,
The flap
Of postered doorways

And the winds
That cycle forever.

Stay in tune
With the pulse
Of a full moon,

And keep your shutters
Half closed like
The glorious
Has-been alliance.

We are safer
Now the laundry’s done,

And it hangs
In neutral shades.

Tinned Meat

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on September 25, 2011 by dc

I would prefer
To thank you
For the efforts
You’ve created.

I am heading
For exactly the same
A-road junction
As you,

The traffic has died
And these aren’t bunkers
They’re ditches,

Our futures are calling.

There’s nothing
In the distance,

Times are changing

Your fanciful

Have prompted me
To change my life


The Melting

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on September 24, 2011 by dc

A small tub
Of onions
In an empty
Front room.

The sound
Of seven geese,
Football rattles
And screaming.

We lost it all
In an instant,
And found it again
All perfect,

Apart from the melting.

The Wedding

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 18, 2011 by dc

The dark clouds parted
A hundred smiles brought the sun
The heavens stood strong,

Romance ushered joy
Sweet songs and poetry shone
And we were all one

All doubting days gone,
Love in excelsior.

Question In Style

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on September 5, 2011 by dc

This wet whistle,

This longing,

This hope I’ve been breeding
On park benches
And porch steps
Will keep me from

Like boiled blood,
Feeding off silence,


Too soon
Is the long gone,
Cracked pavements
And bruised feet,

The sandwich
At midnight
And whispers

It’s 1970
On the stereo,

Is a blessing,

A salad-less dressing,

With a question

In style.

Gone Giddy Blink

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on August 31, 2011 by dc

Hypnotised by the hustle,
At sea down swaying streets,
Awash with heavy perfume
And hormone thickened air,

The world sets its crease,
Sets its crease in the fold
That flickers under rain clouds,

Sets standards yet unmatched,
Patched denim kerbs
And car horns,

A bricolage of movement,
A shimmering zoetrope,

A fruit bowl filled with peaches,

A gone giddy blink
At dusk.