Archive for UK poet

In The Alley

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , on May 9, 2022 by dc

Between the bird song
And the dirt,

Beneath the
Leaves in the alley,

Where the broken glass
Hides its secrets,

Glinting in
The morning sun
Like a child’s stolen treasure,

We found a new excuse.

Yesterday Believer

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , on May 7, 2022 by dc

Crucified by hand claps
And a monumental sense of self,

The bent cover of his only book
Hiding sadness on a shelf,

He calls his mum on Sundays
Just to ask the time,

And he signs his name in pencil
On every dotted line.

If you catch him in the daylight
He’ll sing you ABC’s,

Kiss your cheek for money
Then choreograph the breeze,

He’s a yesterday believer,
A stale charcuterie,

And he’ll see you all next Tuesday
For his final matinee.

There’s A Scarecrow In My Pocket

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on May 6, 2022 by dc

There’s a scarecrow in my pocket
And a draw bridge in my stance,

A pride that’s made from bottled gains
And a hope that likes to dance,

Two pebbles shaped like deformed hearts
Rattling into one another,

And a weapons grade euphoria
That fills these holes with colour.

She Left Us Counting Clouds

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on April 30, 2022 by dc

Taking shortcuts across wasteland,
Clapping at the seagulls
And arguing with my shadows,

As they stretch in the light
Then snap back.

I’ve been dreaming about
The girl that turned to ashes,

Dancing through purgatory
With her daughter’s tears in her eyes,

Whispering for solace
Like a breeze through swan feathers.

I’ve been thinking about that other life,
Walking round her debut art show,

Her chosen memories reimagined in collages
Cut and pasted beneath made-up skies,

Hope slowly soaked into her landscape’s rich husk
As dawn’s yolk covers everything yellow.

It was 8am when she left us counting clouds,

Distant conversations bubbling
Like church organs underwater,

Tremoring through the tide,
The billow of the bass as it crests,
Rising to fall like a siren’s last call;

And now all we can do is remember.

The Almighty Nothing

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , on April 9, 2022 by dc

A tectonic shift
Slowly grinding,

A hand of clouds pushing
From grey marbled skies,

An earthy rumble
Stumbling and sighing,

Dew steaming on summer lawns,
Discordant birdsong,

And a glow that gave in
When the sun rose.

A paper bag frown
Crushed to the kerb,

A portent of patterns
Two hours after rainfall,

A sadness repeated
In mottled pavements,

Veins of gathered tears
Shimmering in the grit,

As obelisks look on
From the hillsides and cry

And the almighty nothing
Breaths in and keeps humming.

I Went Looking For Hope

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , on March 11, 2022 by dc

Under a blood red dusk
With time on my hands,

I went looking for Hope
In a huge, scorched field;

She wasn’t there
But her friends were,

And they were gossiping
And throwing stones
At the birds,

Laughing when they struck
And loudly cheering to the sky.

The birds thought
The stones were food at first,
And a dozen left wounded.

I went home and waited for a text.

It’s Only Wednesday

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on December 1, 2021 by dc

When your homemade ceramics
Are just creative cries for help
And all the chips they collect
Sit like a scars on your body,

When your mudslide mind
Shifts a crevasse to your mouth
And then chatters like hoodlums
Sat in gangs around potholes,

When your toddlers name their fingers
After pigs from petting zoos
And find themselves crying
After trying to milk a cat,

When the mantle-piece antlers start swelling
And the fake polar bear rug begins bleeding,

Close your eyes and inhale all the rainfall,
Exhale demons and then pat-a-cake stress;

Let your wig wander west,
Pick words up off the floor,
Let your tongue loll post-screaming
And let those dolls stay undressed,

Flop yourself back to bliss
Somewhere soundproofed and dark,
Bend your dreams back together
And lick your slate clean.

You are not one hour ago,
You are the simple inhalations
And exhalations of now,
You are only this moment,

No one can find you
And you’ve got the biscuits,

They’re safe.


Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on November 9, 2021 by dc

Walking through the ruins
Of the past’s imagined future,
Echoes vie for vanishing air
And colours leak across lifetimes,

A luminous fog descends,
The sky dissolves into patterns,
And a landscape warped by erosive epochs
Slowly sucks on the sweet fallen debris.

Across a time-lapsed history
Cut and pasted by scholars,
Brows wrought like volcanoes,
Forever altered by every rumble,

I stand lost between a sulk and smile,
As I vanish into an endless sunset,
Left giddy by transitions
As every then becomes now.

Lost Child

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on October 23, 2021 by dc

There’s a man that looks like Jesus
Rubbing beeswax on the mausoleum doors,

A huge obelisk has uprooted a yew tree
And a skull has rolled under a bush.

Worms dance in the damp, disturbed soil
And birds flock for a feast,

As a lost child with stolen chocolate in his pockets,
Clasps it nervously till it slowly melts,

His raven black pupils dilating,
Soaking in the scene,

As his parents hunt the graveyard,
And all the ghosts wonder what happens next.

New Surname

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , on October 10, 2021 by dc

I wasn’t sure, I simply vanished,

The air splashed wildly
And I was camouflaged by carpet,

As the truth slipped under the sofa
And rolled into a gyre of nothing.

Everything was snaking, colours morphed,

Radio chatter danced like shards of light
In dense morning forests,

The boiler hummed deep in thought,
Igniting odd monologues strickened by doubt,

The room breathed questions
And shrank on every inhalation,

Yuka plant leaves reached out for the window;

And you sat in the corner like a Hallmark card
Repeating the same old platitude,

Teetering on the edge of the mantlepiece,
With a new surname and a son that likes poetry.