easter

although wherever Brezhnev went after giving up
smoking he instructed his security guards to
smoke in his presence and his translator to
blow smoke in his face and the official car
filled with smoke that exited in billows when
the door was opened my father she said
his daughter that was was never a well man
and became addicted to almost anything

a week or two later (week 6&7)

I got a reply from Scott Thurston who also set me a task. I've done that now but to get there you need to follow the comments on the comments for week 4.

Robert Sheppard got in touch as well and asked me for something for his blog and I sent him an expanded version of my 'fifth week' poem. If he likes it this may appear on his blog at http://www.robertsheppard.blogspot.com/

Anyway, here's some more poetry from my current project. Comments welcome as always.

across the hills to the snow capped summit
every building block
the wiring an
entanglement upon the surface of the beams

hair extended
face lifted
eyes peeled

the fifth week

take a break eat
take the third roundabout
and feeling as if only or impossible
desire imagined medinas cool air off
the atlas the geography of a new country
the trip was taking me out of myself and then
what was left? inserting the endless
possibilities from casual to smart
casual and exhausted I blew
myself out

fourth collaboration

The poetry below is part of a long sequence I'm writing about the body and emotion. Do comment by adding to the poem, deleting some of it, or in any way you choose.

this is a full body scan apt to discover the slightest
imperfection in excess body hair or a muscle out of place

don’t do casual
don’t do glance

It was only a branch line a further frame of reference another
addition to the sum of human contact or the careful phrasing of
language left out cell touching cell the prisoners of desire

beneath the single sheet I was moved imperceptibly as if the
friction of hands across skin and all the inner mechanics

third collaboration

Welcome to my blog. I will publish some poetry on it every week, normally on a friday.

The poem is in italics.

If you want to contribute to the poem in any way then please do so.If you want to you can:
Give the poem a title or name.
Add to it.
Suggest deletions.
Re-write some or all of it.
Provide a link to somewhere else on the internet.
Make a comment.
Write a version of the poem or part of the poem in a language other than English.
Any of the above in a language other than English.

there were no fit words

the words bounced back

unfit for use



when addressed I respond well whatever



I want to write about loss

as if through the grammar of glass

I want to write about this much

Second Collaboration

Welcome to my blog. I will publish some poetry on it every week, normally on a friday. The poem is in italics.

If you want to contribute to the poem in any way then please do so.If you want to you can:

Give the poem a title or name.

Add to it.

Suggest deletions.

Re-write some or all of it.

Provide a link to somewhere else on the internet.

Make a comment.

Write a version of the poem or part of the poem in a language other than English.

Any of the above in a language other than English.



Toe Nail

(close up of toe-nail)

organic marine matter

receding into the distance

pier end

(coming up all too fast)

pale sunlight

water fronting

pier ending

sun shining nigh

unto the end

pier pressure

everyone out – knocking down

these doors – drowning

toe nail 

collaboration

Welcome to my blog. I will publish some poetry on it every week, normally on a friday.

The poem is in italics. If you want to contribute to the poem in any way then please do so.If you want to you can:

Give the poem a title or name.

Add to it.

Suggest deletions.

Re-write some or all of it.

Add a picture or graphics.

Provide a link to somewhere else on the internet.

Make a comment.

Write a version of the poem or part of the poem in a language other than English.

Any of the above in a language other than English.


it was a hinge point one of those events where
the past began to close up on the future

it was a can of worms breaking out just
beneath the surface a cannot on every lip

we will or will do nothing I walked the streets
by day I travelled the elementary canal I trawled

the suds at the basin’s edge it was nothing to do with
rational it was every thing on legs that crawled or

human values like laughter or time and place
I could live anywhere or with any one seems like

I have extracted the meat from the bone
I have developed curvature of the upper back
I am wrapping myself in skin