non forgotten-   woven light of breath   ask of the forgiving ice from out of which the blood is birthed   ask then of the silenced ash rubbed into wounds   like scars  ...

Four Poems 1.   Old days squatting at the edge of vision. I work it into an image, fix that in a frame. But it moves off just the same, leaving me to linger on in prison, like a gap in time...

Mother Her words are traffic signs and well-trained dogs. My words are ornamental ponds where meaning chokes under a scum of metaphor and idiom. Did I mention I love her? She's a sharp woman. It's...

The Way You It was the way you seemed to bounce across Front Square as if your body held some inner joy; the way you wouldn’t dance at parties but sat there, pipe in mouth, considering the quainter...

Not Before Thursday   Trevor irons his shirt while the kettle boils. A sharp crease in each sleeve and he’s done. He wets the tea and goes upstairs to finish dressing. Back in the kitchen, he...

For his daughter, learning fire Sometimes verbs are stopped mid-movement and held to a page like pictures: you, crouched by the darkening wood, new sounds mouthed over and over – the rustle of a...

Coast   Whenever you have trouble sleeping Find yourself a room near water Give it white walls, an open window Make it high on a purpled cliff Facing an island abandoned to birds With the sea...

Empathise   RealTime in LifeSpace* Gravy with Beef   electric radiant element External Size – Approx: 930 - get organised, stay organised with: MORE SPACE browse personal files with Lamb...

Martin Wilson and the Pantomime of Shadows   What he doesn't like are dinners, parties, rooms with more than four people, radios, telephones and anyone asking him questions.   The sounds...

Dear Penelope Tree,   I wish I were you and you were me, So, in the heat of Carnaby Street in 1963, When the cabs and salesgirls Gawp At monochrome-dramatic billboard dreams And the synaptic...