This site now acts as an archive only. For the latest news, opinion, blogs and listings on disability arts and culture visit disabilityarts.online
I like to think of my poems as ‘misery with oomph’ taken from observations of life. I use poetry as a way of expressing my personality. I perform at various poetry events in London and have had a few poems published here and there. I am working towards publishing a book… or maybe two.
Can't think of a title!! I just want to express a bit of happiness
11 July 2014
At Harrison's Bar - a gem of a basement for gigs Fuelled by red wine I walked from Kings Cross to Euston I took in the St Pancras Gothic beauties And said out loud in my head I LOVE KINGS CROSS GIGS I love London Streets I love London gigs Like Kath Tait's honeyed voice Lucy Lyrical's ukele Maggie Swampwino's electric mandolin Blew away my duress, my stress and the wind up my dress Fuelling my journey up Euston Road...
22 July 2014
To the GP I started to walk Feeling free I could not stop Along the way I met humanity I admired big houses I smelt the dried piss streets As the pavement spread Into the darkest of towns Even in the sun It was glum Downtrodden people Trying to live Life's struggle not healed With a few rays of sun Just lighting up the gloom I strode in hope Wafting through the mire Perchance to to tire Perchance to dream To sleep in this heat I wore out my feet I thought 'like the fella in the...
Hubble bubble it's no trouble..I love the thunder, lightning and rain!
25 July 2014
Wildhood Poeticising the electrical storm Like watching a Hammer Horror When people are safe under the sheets Huddling a lover Heavy bedding I am turned on by sheet lightning Heavy weather Frightening myself hoping for a strike When some are being struck by fists The Monster wakes No 'rain rain go away come back another day' for me I happily dance and pray for more Rain, rain faster alley alley Aster' Rhymes from wildchildhood Was I a miserable child? It could have been...
Stiff Little Fingers
27 July 2014
Here is a limp (biskit) attempt to turn my (non comfortably) numb fingers and arms every morning into poetry as I had a weird dream that I could not shake out the numbness to pins and needles (paraesthesia) and wake up thinking of a punk band! Now I'm dreaming of them My fingers paralysed One white one grey one skeletal My paranoia's infiltrated my sleep Only they won't straighten They stay stiff They won't loosen But eventually I wake up Uncomfortably numb fingers Shaking...
Dreamcatcher in the Rye...calm down dear, it's just a commercial!
29 July 2014
I imagine you're sitting in a purpose built tent of a room In downtown Stockton on Tease Robed in a kaftan sucking on a spliff Deigning to educate us lesser mortals Who get annoyed and post it on Facebook Send us e-cards professing positivity Telling us we should live and let live Don't waste time on anger - chill my friend Wafting your dream catcher and reading Salinger Malingering while I vent my spleen Well anger is an energy I could be wrong but I know I'm right 'SCREAMING...