Saturday, 22 October 2016

A Poem Made With A Fret Saw

Fret saw of thoughts set in permeable compartments

bungle body a shimmer of gold
gilds the thunder
scintillations of the storm

spirals lift
each sound
into a sea that 
becomes sky


strange buildings like white cubes with shadowed archways
in far off cities white, white bones and stones

the helter-skelter shock of looking down
on your own body

as black wings spread over the white mountain
gold and brass sunsets

remind you
of the planet you once called home

Saturday, 15 October 2016


You hear a music in the fire, feel the heat from a blaze of chords -
warm your bones to a song in the flames, a song that confounds 
and calls for a moment of being brazen - who dares enter this white 
circle? Black guitars so close to the flames the sound boxes  start to blister 
(smoke exhaled in the key of D and talk of shakers, the roll of drones -) 
a brazen blister of sound and the fire grows, spreads ink black wings 
with shadows - like interlocked hands - that char the canvas walls.

Sunday, 9 October 2016

Two Guitars

You learn to assimilate distractions here: 
the click clack of flip flops 
in the quiet times you try to think - 
the space in your head clear as a bell 
as three circles calcify 
into the sound of two guitars.

Monday, 3 October 2016


Photo: Su Joy

Mesmeric, the elastic stretch and slinky spring compression of a white accordion with a silver plate that hosts a constellation of black holes, the wheeze of the tune as the plate turns gold in the firelight accompanied by the drone of singing until we finally fall into sleep like children in a forest crib. 

I keep my appointment with the dawn, gun grey sky and no knowing, too early to tell in this circle of hill, which is north or south. 

Later, a cluster of tents and flags and streamers - a sort of cross between a war time field hospital and knights of old jousting festival. 

Tired, unshaven men sealed in cars, each responsible for his own tribe within a temporary tribe, Smart phones plugged into cigarette lighter sockets engaged in an exchange with the outer world, none of us quite ready, brave enough to make a clean break of it.

Photo: Su Joy

Tuesday, 27 September 2016

The Sage Of The New Age

A lull full of sweet tea, drums going on somewhere and a one-sided conversation led by a young man who holds his audience with Messianic power and it seems that, for the circle who listen to him at least, that he has all the answers: what’s really going on in politics, how the old order is crumbling and how everyone keeps working because they are too afraid to try doing something else. Jim's thinking you should try having a mortgage and two children and see how brave you feel then when this sage of the new age lets slip that his favourite movie is True Grit which makes the rest of what he has to say easier to swallow.


Morlock Oil

Morlock Oil
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The Quest Of Great Celtic Mystery

The Quest Of Great Celtic Mystery
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