The Very Ceiling of Hell


Energy-skeleton frames,

Clad in glorious

Ember and faith armour,

Red white and orange

Roar and fire spitters,

Leaning down on the very

Ceiling of Hell,

Seeking the top step

Paradise Stairway

While Heaven’s sky-weight

Pulls at the soul,

Presses against slim shoulders and ankles.

The track is a flag:

The flag is  a race.

Launched from the start,

Up the lone-star hill

On lean-sprint, young,

Growling dragon dreams.




Lime Lightning


Why wouldn’t it work?

To just keep, simply walking?

Walking away, perhaps,

from the Paradox Candles.

Walking towards, perhaps,

The Echo Doorway.

But always walking, with purpose

Just a little pace-and-a-half faster

Than mirror-crack Nemesis.

Wouldn’t it make us,

Keep us,

Less fatigued,

More alive,

If we tried?

Why wouldn’t it work?



Image: courtesy of


Cruel April


Funny how green

Can bleed from red,

Life can sprout

From the frozen and the dead.

Cruel April is here,

Lamb-killer’s neighbour,

Freedom’s grim and tenacious

Marauder missionary;

Demanding faith, seed and labour:

Fees for continued redemption and

Resurrection-summer order.



Terrible sounds and memories from a

Long gone troubled English evening

Tumbling over and over, reach me:

Carried on a Patriot wind.

Charity and lavender dreams shattered,

Runner camaraderie staggered

– Hopefully only temporarily –

Here in the original Tea Party City

– Where a different way to

Make a point was born.

We, the naïve, the unsuspecting

May make such easy casual-slaughter victims;

But remember  your secret,

Dark-mask shadows

Are not welcome here …

The fact that you can

Gives you no rights.

Please let this finish line

Be the last.




Dangerous Blues

Bright , pin-sharp cries

Of angel gulls,

Carrying on the winds of time;

Ghosts of past and

Spirits of future …

Echo …


These are the vulnerable blues;

I could have been so dangerous:

Back in the day.

Tides in the sky,

Clouds in the sea;

Which way is up?

Waves in the desert.

Half-way down April’s decision-river –

My darling-dancer’s coming home today –

But I won’t be there,

And I won’t be coming back.

Echo …

… Echo.

These are dangerous blues:

I am so vulnerable



All Behind Me Now ?

Last night’s rain,

The fence-creeping wet-poor fox,

The savage dreams of screaming men

Are all behind me now.

But their faces remain:

Dangled before me when I close my eyes;

I do not recognise a single one.

Am I supposed to?

Were they trying to pass on

A terrible secret?

Or had they just uncovered

The unholy lie?

I have no idea …

Their words, framed by desperate lips

Were lost to me, to everyone,

Their voices stolen.

Wise men say I cannot

Dream in colour.

If it is so, then black and white are

Cruelly vivid and dreadfully revealing.

Morning-of-April skies press the

New blue pages

 – Spring’s first chapter –

Against my unglazed windows.


First, the Arriving …

From the fog,

From the foam;

First, the arriving,

Then the striving –

Get it right,

Keep it tight –

On the roads,

On the ropes.

Between the round one corner

And the canvas

Is nothing more than physical pain.

Why so worried ?


Way Past Numbers

She’s way past numbers,
He’s given up counting;
Their eyes, their lives
So full of history’s snow
Neither can remember the
Last time they
Enjoyed the silver powder thunder.
She can’t hear what the  one-armed drummer is saying,
He just can’t quite recognise tune the blue guitarist is playing:
Does either of them realise,
Does either of them care any more, that
It’s the doll-devil they’re paying?
Hey-ho, there’s just one letter’s difference
Between the bomb
And the final, sad, slip-away mistake.


How Lucky ?

How lucky have I been ?

– And don’t I need to remind myself, today ? –

Of the times I rocked out loud with the Beast,

The quiet times with the trainer;

Bubbles of blue rock

Up my nose

Like street-cheap champagne …

How we discovered ourselves –

Jesters, peasants and monarchy –

Defined our limits;

Then with riotous intelligence

Destroyed and defied them;

Then when we danced those early

Hurry-up-and-wait times together.