Le père de cet homme est à moi

POETRY

That man’s father is my father’s son: A poem about parenting, and about changing generational roles, from the big ones (nearby) to the small (far away); about absent dads, where the Marmite goes in the middle…

GHOST DAD

Shadow monkeys Fathers Day

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Mirror in the monkey cage

POETRY

Give an infinite number of monkeys a typewriter each, and some will eventually transcribe Shakespeare. Others will sit on those antique writing implements and eventually sell them at boot fairs, while still more might not work out what they’re for. It’s all about evolution. Two views, the judged and the judge…

Thinking anxiety2Image: Tambako the Jaguar via Flickr / Creative Commons

Chimps aren’t monkeys, they’re apes. Give one a laptop, and it might realise it has an evolutionary tool.

Dead typewriter

More Pan troglodytes / Homo sapiens collaborations in the poetry section of evolution.

 

A million baggage tags

POETRY

This was inspired by a friend who’s moving home. As someone who was transient for a few years, I can empathise. Starting life in a new place can be daunting, but often we’re moving away from something else, where the wallpaper’s peeling. Home is the cloakroom for hearts…

WALLPAPER SKINS

Peeling wallpaper

For some of my more recent poems, when I’ve posted them as images (better for Instagram) I’ve positioned the text so that the poem can be read either monologue (down) or as though in harmony (across). I wonder if this is working?

Piss art on the streets of any town

POETRY

streetlamp

Dog catches car, drives it off cliff

POETRY

In an analogy of Brexit I ask, if a dog ever caught up with the car it was chasing, would it know how to drive? In my world of political poetry, who’s afraid of Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings anyway?

THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN DOGS AND CARS

Dog Driving2

They’ve gone away on holiday

POETRY

We’re only gone when we’re forgotten, but when we remember, sometimes they visit us. They still walk among us. You just have to keep your eyes open to notice them.

BLINK

In a moment3

The cat thinks it wants to go out

POETRY

Where you’re from doesn’t have to be where you were born. Your heart can come to life many years after you’d merely breathed to find belonging. Where you’re from is where your heart beats, and for me that resides in an ode to London SE13, and especially SE6. It’s a world where nature prevails, word on the street is the jungle book, and cats wear murder mittens…

catford se6 cat poem