Violet Immortal (RIP Prince)

14 May

His Royal Purpleness and Cat c.1988

Hey vio-let bro,
sonic blurring,
mind funk whirring,

guitar spurring,
beaux – 
I think I must love you;
 for my age, I’m too young
 don’t fit in my school;
still I know a star 
 when it’s earth far flung –
 you’ve learned me the notion of cool.

Hi, lavender youth,
 wink me a grin.
Sky spirited
no limited
 guitar guild that light hymn;
 sing high melody prose,
violet peach and rose.
Triksy dip trip-hip,
lofty kick split pose,
your deadliest darndest caper choose.

Dance on royal mate,
 street slick smarting,
flash glow hearting,
ace pro axing
bizzle wizzle, punk twirl
tassle twizzle whip furl,

you fearless easy
 pre Beyoncé girls,
shout too loud new world,

work them celestial drums and keys.

And though later years,
love proved dimming

and paisley poems
seemed no inspiration

of yours my favourites still:
the cheer cavalcade,
twice timed octic raid,

love God geek, text speak,

omnipotent transcendent thrill.

Shut up already,
dude man divine,
so headily,
freak – tatstically,
But though your mortal frame
no longer leaps nor lights,
 ‘til the very end
your songs will be friends,
their lush faiths suspend
Zion forever, in my life.

Sign o' the Times


Keep Running (Don’t Give Up)

24 Apr

Gone all out
demon slayer,
whole self sold;

sprinting surely,
streaming smooth –
 hell bam, 
No siren
or notification,
to re-strike, no time   
or to withold.

On the floor,
fiend fighter,
vision skewing,
limbs spilt
Can’t uprise or self utter,
can’t figure what just passed

or what you should have done –
to have cursed,
or mere blamed,
to have ran
or faced, headlong?

Up jump
fiend conqueror,
  wearied, bloodied one
don’t be fooled.

Keep on your
 wily, never quitting scheme,
no mummy for the mud;

slice, brute strike forward
and lynch this disingenuous intimidation,

shifting sorrow to motivation
and shit to jewels.

Fire sword slayer


In Memory of Josh

24 Apr

This beautiful poem is a guest post by my friend Dot, who has just lost her beloved – and beautiful dog, Josh:

I went to the dog’s home
to get me a pet,
when a pup with long legs
jumped in my arms
the minute we met!

Oh no, not you,
you’re not for me,
but the very next Sunday
he came home for tea.

He dug up the plants,
ate my carpet and books
and looked up at me
with his stunning good looks.

But soon he became
a gentle, faithful
and obedient boy,
knew all things were mummy’s
except for his toys.

As the years quickly rolled,
together we grew old,
our trips to seaside and his beloved park,
he was always beside me in the
light and the dark.

When I was ill or feeling down,
he always knew and offered his paw,
as if to say ‘cheer up –
I love you ma.’

It broke my heart to see you die,
we didn’t want to say goodbye,
but this I know that in the end
you shall be my
forever friend.

Best Friend Josh

The Reject

15 Nov

Pretty Kite
trampled into salt battered stone;
lone, unloved
today’s sweepings
left for trash. 

 I’ll detangle your tail,
unknot your ribbons,
your strangled cord,
lay you

smiling faced neon
over sun hotted weed.

Lurch shake kite,
cloud billow fill,
wind bound loop over and above;    
sun streamered dragon,
slink over sand,

euphoria blissful, revitalize. 


Now Today

1 Jun

Silence tomorrow,
Exit yesterday,
I’m living for the now,
For what I’ve here in my hands,


13 Oct

You stride across storm tossed fields to greet me,
Face elevated by a thousand bolts of neon and a tangerine black sky;
White lit, lofty eyed, voice strangulated into some sick kind of marvel by heaven knows what,
skewering wind, mud and rain to hasten its assault.

Your string missiles, hardly less lethal;
With this thunderclap;
and again,
lives hurled forward,
I think I’m gone,
Strung out, wrung out, prised well loose.
And the rain barely felt, heated at your refrain, like relieved tears, brushes  away the stresses that have fractured my skin.

Push-go,  hurl-thrust, battle bloody persist,
spew savagely forth heart and guts;

lethal armed, incisor sharp, instrument versus voice,
hot blood, new life, mouth to mouth resuscitation,
imperial liquor through each vein and cell,

never was joy like this –
these sublimely spiteful, sacrosanct songs,
towering and
thrusting to the skies,
annihilating whatever shit once was.

On these last crushing chords,
the fiercest screams, hers and mine,
up, up;

crinkle iced eyes melt,
and I’m myself again.
In this wild aftermath,
with these giant smashclaps I pray
I’ll make damn happy hope with them all,
just like you .




31 Aug


Winning is sometimes

a stand on the podium

a victory clasp,

a medal or a cup.

But sometimes it means keeping on:

making steps, one foot and then the other;

a refusal to lay down and surrender;

to love and never give up.

Bradley Wiggins Tour of Britain Win 2013