On the 1st April I had an idea of how I might partake in #NaPoWriMo for the first time. I'm not a prolific writer of #poems, often I will go weeks or months between writing anything at all. Of course these poems always juggle my acceptance of them with the denial of their worth. It's a trying formula for the unending trap of never (or so infrequent so as to be barely noticeable) sending anything out for hopeful publication.That is something that I believe the 'write a poem every... more

And the final #NaPoWriMo poem from me as I turn back into a poet hiding in the wings. Thanks for reading these over the last month. It's been fun to write through the puzzle words and come up with these varied and odd little poems.LARVAThe boy clung to an overhanging rocklike a synod holds on to tradition.Below, a melee of local musicians,bashed cymbals with a provocative clang.The boy, surprised at this overt display,touched his glands in case he had a fever.Between him and them, an... more

TRASHNever throw out your feelings in the morning.Stave off the desire to change when feeling blue.When your thoughts feel like a louse beneathyour skin take a breath. Without any qualm, say:I am hope and fear made an alloy.I am the two roads that are unmet.I am a sandy beach on a summer day.I am the frame that holds the model.A trout contracts their fins, drops to the water bed.A beech tree will thrive if it is not waterlogged.A horse will neigh whether anxious or confident.A gavel sounds when... more

ZESTYToday I attempt to revisit a foyer from my youth,one in which I was prone to succumb to the lure ofa packet of cherry lips despite the inevitable and sternadmonishment of my mother. Unable to diminish the sheen of these confections, I perused the shelf. Now, the word ‘bongo’will infer which drink I purchased before entering the dreamand then the craze of loudspeakers would shake the velvetcurtains ready to foist an obligatory short in our way.To a 9 year old this was... more

Late in the day but I've been busy. Don't worry only three more of these from me. After Saturday you can happily be distracted elsewhere.SHOWNAt first I consider talking to a rabbi but don’t know any; plus there’s the possibility of someone suing me, the chances of being sued having risen again I’m told,for saying the wrong thing. So I swoop down to myself,try my best at a butch firm glare to test the water,catch a glint in my own eye that shows... more

HEISTThe plans had a kind of droll humour, even the markson the chalk board had a fuck you Rocky Balboa countenancethat wouldn’t be amiss in a Stallone b-movie. They usedcoloured chalk to add some spice with revisions confinedto a duster that needed more cleaning than a freelancer’s inbox.Overalls were slung across the arm of a back alley sofawhose cushions screamed a dicey I wouldn’t if anyonetried to perch a single inch of buttock. Broken, blisteredand searching for their... more

ASKEWIf you look in the mirror do you see a cut and paste versionof yourself, one you took yesterday. Sliced from the fatty endand ready to be discarded? Or do you look twice at your eyes,claim sight and no tomfoolery in evidence can see the truthbehind the spell you conjure. I am hoping for the latter.In my dreams I have flung the mask beyond the rising tide,grabbed my walkie talkie, clicked the button Roger, everythingA OK. I see one other sitting calmly by the shore and askDo you need... more