Archive for manchester

Manchester, February

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on February 2, 2020 by dc

Rain tuts on the roof
Winter keeps growling at Spring
And the dawn just yawns


Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , on November 15, 2019 by dc

It’s a northern Tuesday,
The high street
Nuzzles gloom,

Kids’ cries echo,

Outside the local bakery
A meathead flings
His pasty crust to the floor,

The weather turns,

Rain hurls from the grey,
Unsheathing its chaos,
Drenching in blurs

Like a mighty conclusion.

A barbaric wind
Whips up hedgerows
And spits out buds,

Birds collide,

Dazed traffic skis
Across flooded roads
And roofs rattle,

Bedlam cackles and dazzles,

Something’s unravelled
Simple but harrowed
And the meathead

Is soaking in doubts.

Your Applause

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on March 26, 2019 by dc

You create
Not statements,

Iterations dressed
And wrapped
In messianic cloth,

Retellings cursed
With hands washed
In reverance,

Replica relatives,
Elegant yet

A primitive skeleton
Stripped of flesh
Then fed again,

An arched fabrication,
All eyebrows
And fuss,

Your whats, wheres
And why nows
Are gilt edged,

Your applause
Is just echoes
From the last act’s


After The Gaspers

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , on January 8, 2019 by dc

Two ribbons of treated meat
Hanging like hot spaniel ears

From a glimmering,
Shimmering limb of dishoner,

Neon lights throbbing
Across its greasy sluice

As spent demons gather
To slather and slump in the shadows,

Dark hearts beating
To the trembling pulse

Of dizzy flies frying
On luminous grills.

Winter’s First Night

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , on November 4, 2016 by dc

There are songs I love
I’ll never need to hear again,

Paintings I’ve cherished
And left lining my memory,

Stories and poems left boxed,

They can all disappear.

I have filed away magic
And led myself into wandering,

New melodies hushing
The night’s bracing winds,

A quizzical wondering
With meandering ease;

And I have watched tramps kiss,

I have seen dogs sniff a million things,

Plus a thousand lost pigeons
All dreaming of coops

As they fight over spent seed
And coo under bridges.

I have drifted through
Winter’s first night,

Whispering songs I’ve forgotten,

Returned home.

It was cold.

Sales Talk

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , on October 22, 2015 by dc

I’m not that weird comment
Or that salmon nibble,

I’m not that aside
During a strange night out
Or that pickled starter,

I’m not the gap in-between you
And the truth,

I’m the elastic in your clothing,

That stitch that made
Your pants fit sweetly.

I’m that full stop
When you asked
For a comma,

The decision that you’ve
Already made,

The elixir,

The none return,

The win win,
The yes.