a true horror poem


A PAGE FROM THE HISTORY OF BIOLOGICAL WARFARE The Siege of Caffa. Crimea, 1346 The stench of these latest victims flies far beyond the power of words but soon they will be gone. Even now you can hear the catapults straining, the taut ropes twanging ever tighter as the corpses are loaded for shooting, arms… Continue reading a true horror poem

a poem about belonging


ANTARCTIC YELLOW Australian Antarctic Territory You’ve come all this way for the Southern Lights but they’re on strike again. Then someone says let’s go see the snow petrel, the cute white dove that bathes in the snow of the continent of peace, and on the way you wonder if you could belong like the petrel.… Continue reading a poem about belonging

Poem: Sleepless, Fearing Commitment


Distracted, I moulded the darkness into the shape of your hips while you slept. Through the pillow I felt the splitting edge of the mental knife I’d stashed there overnight. Thinking I’d said too much already, I stopped my betraying mouth and started to think that this was just my body lying there, while my… Continue reading Poem: Sleepless, Fearing Commitment

Poem: Omens


I should have known from the retching crow that passed on my way to the station that morning. The signs were there in the sprinkle of chocolate on my cappuccino, in the graph of plunging share prices hidden in the newspaper’s entrails. She’s gone; I should have known. The signs were there this evening as… Continue reading Poem: Omens

Poem: The Night


Alone together just this side of dawn, you asked the questions and I traced my answers on your smoothed body parchment with just enough paint and inspiration to reach the end of a line before turning back, ready to start all over again. I wrote my hope on your shoulder blades, feeling the muscles taut… Continue reading Poem: The Night

Poem: Necromancy


From one day to the next, I never know when the face will show itself again in a mirror or a pan of water, as if unearthed by the ceaseless, circling plough of my mind. It’s always the same; a happy, younger me, long gone, the dead returned to speak with the dying. I wonder… Continue reading Poem: Necromancy

Poem: Waiting at the Water’s Edge


Another day of hope and nothing slides into evening’s apologetic grey; I’m in love, but I don’t know who with. Somewhere, upstream of love and poetry’s floundering strokes, she’s sitting as fine and clear as the first gasp of oxygen. It’s getting dark and once more no one’s turned up; every day’s just a poor… Continue reading Poem: Waiting at the Water’s Edge

Poem: Thursday


And rose. And fell. Once more. Something at the corner of my eye is thrusting its bony fingers into the gaping cracks of my life, pushing its stained fingers into the empty spaces where my life should be, where all my principles and goals, my reason for being should be safely bedded down. I rose,… Continue reading Poem: Thursday