Below is a curated selection of my poetry, more of which can be found in my books and in the audio section of the website.

Subtle

In the blank of blanks

That flash: the phantasmagorical imaginings of a figment
A craving for a word that will never come from your lips

What is the word from your eyes, if you had to choose, give me just one.
I will build a world around it: Good is a noun after all,
and at deaths silent you will know, the honour of the hand it is written in.

Crave carving an utterance of sight, a flight of sheer unpredicted, seismic gaze,
to which Geologists bound for the erupting Kerio Crater, rifting the Eurasian and American Plates play chance with my son,
who trusts them.

Laying death like still - intravenous drip thoughts of you and crystal spherical hopes of will
Will you pull through - or pulled through from your death bed to new?
A close shave entertaining your ward buddies but how close will the closest let yourself be?

Gale Warning: Issued: 09:02 (UTC) on Sat 30 Dec 2023
Gale now ceased, but soon easterly severe gale force 9 expected soon.

But you looked and I stared. Split second moment shared.
Subtle silence, lasting longer than one lifetime.
I ask for subtle lifetime lasting.

Encapsulated in a small, tight cosy bed. My real life bear and I'm stroking your serene guilt-less head.

Singularity of freedom allows these imagined thoughts to appear
Let’s start to program our own dream miss-tress.
Just the same as a dream-master but with the dosage of sincerity.

We are drawn by our attractions to distractions and the earth pulls us tirelessly through.
If you can hold your own course, your objective maybe subtle, yet pure.

Love Conquers All

Let your words

carry through the air between valleys rooted in

the depths of your visions that once laid within your lungs,

clung inside your chest,

formed through windpipe and voice box,

vocal cords vibrating shaping sounds by the musicality of

your muscles controlling your soft palate across your tongue

and through your lips

splitting these diamond-shaped compartments,

like plotting the exact edges of a cartography towards you,

sublimated, enmeshed to suggest the labour of dreams

- omnia vincit amor // Love Conquers All

15th July 2023

Heart-shaped

Cordate yet plashy, polished nickel plated conveniences
year tidings of panglossian little gidding
salvation came and went with the picks of maple seeds
the elegant uprising towards the end
where we start from

(As the January mist fell on Wortley Hall
the ice dew whispered, with the fuzzy claw paw
the camel coat was ruined by a jumping muddy dog
and the air turned blue from the swearing dialogue)

sometimes tendencies look out
this poem’s stillness is its form

universe hollow hereafter
a one-sided swing ball
the eschew of a biting edge

nakedness mirrored feathers in a bath
fear’s limerance - feed
dammed sizzling utterance
any shape of the I Am That, That I Am

be strong
girls
vibrissa - whittles and spittles until they were blue
take these nervous edges
and work them asleep
fantast, epiphonic
you are the penetralia of rocks
the bend and flow
circling from an orb centre
burgeoning
biophilic
and the nothing of it all
is the most important part
of Everything.

If A Leaf Could Speak

If a leaf could speak

would it be meek?
would it be mild?
would it keep secrets?
would it be wild?

the park parlez,
the solitary lunch time sandwich rustler
the siblings quarrelling who started it first
the lone crunch welly kicking bract stalker

injury to instinct,
stepping into piles of Autumnal foliole
the barren tree,
less foreboding than it’s petiole

ten thousand siblings shared with it’s Mother trunk
frond learned the art of clean living
creating Winter light paths for his
Spring sisters plush green forest home

then the fall,
a fluttering heart-stopping silent good-bye
as the wind catches it’s midrib and
it floats through the sky

just as leaves learn to adapt to the shocks
psychically, through time,
we become weary of the shocks
aimed at deflowering our wild hearts

so today I gather each garden leaf by hand
as a reminder of their wilful wild abandon
each breath they gave,
shelter and oxygen made
their voice is in their colour.

If A Leaf Could Speak is a piece of automatic writing written in the early hours of National Poetry Day 2021.

The Sealed Sea

the sealed sea
to see seals
sealed me

wide eyes blinded
seek clear water
earless hearing (without) here
to work both in and out of water
natures designs
of depth and vision

sky sea sand
Farne Islands from land
holding pups through fecund lifespan
capital breeders blubber
weaned to quadruple their weight

where a lighthouse keepers daughter turned
the fortune of the Forfarshire
shipwreck to saviour
holding the cobble steady
through the Grace of her Darling

the sealed sea
to see seals
sealed me

……….

The Sealed Sea is a reflection on a boat trip around the Farne Islands with my children on a family holiday.

Those 'i's

he understood that if the line was to remain pure,
she must hold her breath…
to fill the lungs with this air and her pen with ink.
The private joy of slotting in
the ink reservoir: membranes of small resistance…

It never flowed immediately, the sacred drama knowing
the need to flick downwards in the air above the floor
to rhythm-it-through to the nib.

She talked in terms of blood and muscle,
rather than pebbles and petals and waves,
seeming to think a physical movement to
all quarters of the room would charge that nib.

Celestial circles of horizontal bars,
sprouted loops and arabesques,
the crossbars of t’s and f’s resembled miniature ski-slopes;
ornamental turns of the pen
which hardly ever seem the same twice,
which combine, entwine and shoot off again,
in blissful exhaustion.

And those rare dots…
the held breath as she overcharges the
nib dipped deep in spectrum red,
set the gaze and with eyes closed
the final sweeping stroke;
when a perfect circle of blood
dots the vowel she’s been hoping for.
- those i’s -

……..

This Golden O (audio poems)

This collection was released in 2016. It draws on themes including the wild feminine, nature, and magical realism. You can find more information in the audio section of the website.

Feathergill’s Donkey Brand (book)

This piece is inspired by memories of the bygone Northern custom of scrubbing the doorstep. It is a rhythmical, poetic and tongue-in-cheek refection on childhood memories. More information can be found here.

The Rage of Coming Of Age (book)

This is my first collection, and includes a wide-range of experimental, concrete, and performance pieces from a 12 year period. I created a limited number of hand-sewn, hardback editions. More information can be found here.

The She Boxer (book)

This is a one-act theatre play. It explores the physical restrictions and performativity of abusive relationships.

‘She must have witnessed deaths, of course she did, some say she stayed down there to escape the screams.’