June 2010
26 posts
butnotinlove asked: I have told you this before, but I feel the need to reiterate -
Your work is absolutely stunning. It is passionate, beautiful, and inspiring. I look forward to your posts every day. You are one of the most talented authors whose work I've had the good fortune to be able to read. Thank you for sharing.
Your work is absolutely stunning. It is passionate, beautiful, and inspiring. I look forward to your posts every day. You are one of the most talented authors whose work I've had the good fortune to be able to read. Thank you for sharing.
7 tags
Six Sentences - Ride
by M.R. Wallis He would buy a dayrider every day, never a weekrider, always just £3.50. Clamber on the bus and sit at the top to feel like a giant. He had this bag of cans that rattled by him; he always sat at the window, looking out. Whenever I saw him, he’d be drinking, be it eight-am or midday, or nighttime, always glugging down cans of cheap lager. In the morning he’d be happy,...
5 tags
Salt
I remember shuffled goose-step slap slap slapping along. Skin, white as salt and freckled from March to September. Legs: forests. Arms, branches. Willowing and wide.
9 tags
When I'm Old
For Goldy When I’m old and all opinion has withered into phrases lining my shoes, where once sand spilled. Do not ignore me. Kiss me. I’m not a child. Bedridden, with cracked ribs, unable to sing my lifesong, sit and hold me, like the friends we were. My translator: you can understand my jimbledjangled-sounds. When I’ve used up words till breadcrumbed they trail verbs and nouns, from now, to...
10 tags
11 tags
Troll
Others hated Troll’s hangout spots underbridges, tunnelsides in abandoned houses, estates a modern troll—. Didn’t like the water, sorry trolleys pet plastic bags, following him. How he’d smoke and guffaw and drink too much brazen, blazing with life climb up the scaffolding on construction sites shouting my name. Troll could make constellations out of bottle caps, unwrap Quality...
13 tags
Shadow Doesn't Like Friends
Shadow sits behind you. Watches, licking his lips. Witches writhe in his hands dancing cloudsong storms covering daybright.
They bellyjangle rain into hail, then let it fade till it’s just you and him and a broken smile. Know and think of us: how we turned night-time into dawn just by … chatting till the birds and bin men came and sang.
11 tags
11 tags
8 tags
A Brief History of Me
Wake up get coffee go school go form sit down say yes sit alone say yes. Bell. Walk lesson sit down in lesson sit learn. Sit up you’re slouching. Sit down you’re standing. Sit up. Sit down. Sit up. Sit down. Ask to take your blazer off! Can I take my blazer off? No. Summer. Boiling. Teachers command heating. Wasp hits window pane wind plays hair. Bell. Shuffleshuffleshuffle. Eat...
9 tags
Gaydar Blackout
Indie lads are a problematic temptation when seeking that cure to frustration: impossible to know which ones’ll say ‘no!’ and which ones really want you to fuck ‘em.
7 tags
Mythologise
I dunno if I see the world differently to people whether it’s good, or not, if I do. If it’s normal to imagine ivy-twined imps crawling out from under hedges and rusted-railed-rats scuttling on the street chaperoning me when I’m walking home at night. That I can tell the future from my cold cup of tea. When I was young I had lessons from a family friend on how to fly. We...
3 tags
WatchPoetry Pillow - 4th June - UPDATED: both parts.
So, what happens when you shove a gay into a cafe and make him read poetry? This is me. ENJOY :) x Also, just so everyone knows, this is so my favourite job in the world.
2 tags
Old Man in the Mirror
Who would have thought he could feel the pressure behind his eyes and snap-block-sniff begin to break; peel away the bitter skin and caustic pulp, a tear falling from his dry, black eyes. “Who are you,” tap tap, against the silver-coated glass, ”?” Flaccid skin, smoothed and stretched in an attempt to make it snap again. His skull-wrenching out to say hello: eyes...
5 tags
Homo World
This is the first draft. The new, edited version has since been posted.
Heterosexuality was unheard of in our town the thing of New York, London, Manchester’s Mecca on TV, in pamphlets relegated to short stories and Vaseline-smeared-porn. Rock Stars and Pop Stars not everyone. Not us. Not in our town. Occasionally you’d hear of families in cities where kids had a mum and dad, not...
5 tags
Griefclock
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tock. Tock. Tock. Time. Passes. Goes on and on and on wasting away memories. By each second diverged till through years we live in different decades you: forever eighties-but-really-nineties-child me: futuristic adult with touch-screen phone. We can’t talk now. Wouldn’t recognise me now. Can’t ring you, even with this phone. ...
5 tags
Avowal
These are the words that ring of you, sitting next to me in a future that’s so near, remembering; listening as my voice echoes forwards and back. I will love you. Love you. Love you. These are the words I devote to us. In a future: laughing, chatting, being.
4 tags
00:00
We walked, handclamped and clammy. Journeyed through city streets; kept stopping to look, linger— caught in the corners of your mouth. Past takeaway neon lights full of laughter our words cast echoes back. Smiling we kissed by a corner. Silhouettes merging in a car beam.
Ok
So, tonight I did my first Guest Poet Slot at the wonderful Poetry Pillow at An Outlet on Dale Street in Manchester. There’ll be a video coming up in the next week or so of the performance which can class as today’s post. I’m overwhelmed by the support and just how wonderful the event was. Thank you everyone who came. xxx
For those who didn’t, I performed:
For Dicks
...
4 tags
Unfold
Double bed for doubled man. We spill our minds into sheets. Words reverberate off plaster walls. We talk and talk and talk. Punctuated by kisses and bracketed by hugs we tell each other everything. Our clothes drop. Peeled, revealed we are sculptures.
6 tags
Modern Love #1 - Texting
This poem has been removed as it’s to feature in Popshot Magazine in September 2010.
Language
Sometimes it’s just easier to talk with hands not words.
