A poem about the importance of punctuation

Selected poems

Slow Puncture

I’d use every one of them – each tiny symbol / sign –
to ‘light up’ my words … and write eye-catching lines:
the comma; the colon; the ellipsis; the slash;
the question mark; the hyphen; the en and em dash.

In stanzas 1-2, it was all there on show
(Was there nothing not used? The short answer: No!)
But then I came to an unfortunate juncture:
my punctuation, you see, got a slow puncture

and those small, helpful marks which let my words breathe
or made me understood, all started to leave.
Hyphens unhappened semi colons got missed
apostrophes went awol in commaless lists.

“And what of the question marks Oh yes even those
(while my brackets and speech marks forgot how to close
When the last comma left there was nowhere to pause
my words floated by in one endless clause

and no one could tell once the full stops departed
where one sentence ended and another one started
capitals absconded and meaning left too
as the breaks between stanzas bowed then withdrew just like the line breaks 
then all sense gotblurred thelastthingtogowasthegapsbetweenwords 

A poem about eggs and baskets

Selected poems

Add to Basket

Browse eggs. Click on egg.
Add to basket.

Buy One Egg Get One Free.
Add to basket.

Buy Five More Eggs to Qualify for FREE delivery.
Add to basket.

Other Recommended Eggs based on your Browsing History …
Add to basket.

Customers who bought this Egg also bought these Eggs …
Add to basket.

Here are some other Eggs you might like to consider …
Add to basket.

What other Eggs do Customers buy after viewing this Egg?
Add to basket.

Avoid Putting all your Eggs in One Basket with Our New Range of Baskets …

Browse baskets. Click on basket.
Add to basket.

Buy One Basket Get One Free.
Add to basket …

A poem about a laid-back crow

Selected poems

Crow’s Day Off

Crow woke early.
He had a surfeit of worms; the nest was in good repair.
The whole day stretched in front of him,
like a sweep of clear blue sky.

Today, he would take his time.
Maybe he wouldn’t head straight to Bob’s to watch the game,
but go and hang out in the meadow for a while
or have a little flap over to the brook.

Yeah, maybe today he’d take the scenic route.

A poem about the moon

Selected poems

How Hard It Is to Be the Moon

How hard it is to be the moon.
I hang palely in the sky,
while all else shines and sparkles
and the shooting stars go by.

And on Earth, the useless poets
scribble words in praise of me
for recital by young lovers,
gazing moonstruck at the sea.

For a time I had some company
but then the visits stopped.
Magnificent desolation
is carved deep into my rock.

The tides sweep in and out once more.
That’s the way things always are.
The Earth goes about its business.
I float alone, among the stars.

A poem about my experience of ‘travelling’ on Britain’s railways

Selected poems

The Poet Now Standing at Platform 3A

The poet now standing at platform 3A
is the delayed 14.30 speaker for the Wits’ End Poetry Festival,
calling at: Longwaite; Anguish; Bleakside;
Much Wallowing-in-the-Mire; Little Hope;
Hangdog Manor; High Dudgeon; Irk; Fuckham; Mope;
Doldrum Parkway; Wearyside Central; and Wits’ End.

We are sorry to announce this poet is delayed
by approximately one hour and fifteen minutes.
Please listen for further announcements.
We apologise for the inconvenience this may cause.

The poet now standing at platform 3A
is the delayed 14.30 speaker for the Wits’ End Poetry Festival.
Please note, this poet will now NOT be stopping at:
Great Ease; Serenity Junction; or Arrival-on-Time.

This poet has been delayed by approximately one hour
and forty-eight minutes.
Customers are advised to stand well back from the poet,
who’s on edge.
Please listen for further announcements.
We apologise for the disruption to your journey today.

The poet currently standing at platform 3A
is the delayed 14.30 speaker for the Wits’ End Poetry Festival.
This poet consists of nine elements:
oxygen, carbon, hydrogen, tedium, delirium,
odium, caffeine, shortbread, and despair.

A trolley service, featuring mild palpitations
and a selection of hot and cold sweats,
is trundling through this poet.

This poet has been delayed by approximately two hours
and twenty-three minutes.
Please listen for further disruptions.
We apologise for the announcements to your journey today.

There has been a platform altercation.
The agony at platform 3A does not stop here.
The 14.30 speaker for the Wits’ End Poetry Festival has been disrupted.
Customers should not bore the poet at this time.

The platform now standing on poet 3A has been delayed
by approximately three hours and forty-two minutes.
We apologise for the apologies to your disruptions today.

If you hear an announcement that doesn’t sound right,
seek your stash. Or text a local dealer on 61016
to help you through this.
He’ll sort it. Seek it. Pay it. Snorted.

Please note that for your safety and comfort
this station operates a no trains policy.

The festival now standing at poet 14.30 is the delayed
3A speaker for the Wits’ End Poetry platform.
We are sorry to announce that this poet has been waylaid
by approximately four hours and twenty-two minutes.
Will passengers intending to travel on this service
make their way to the platform as the poet is now ready to jump.

Please note that longings must not be left unattended at this station.
Any hope left unattended may be removed without warning, or destroyed.

This is a customer announcement.
The 14.30 speaker for the Wits’ End Poetry Festival has terminated here.
A bard replacement service will be in operation.
We apologise for any inconvenience this may cause.

A poem for World Meteorological Day

Selected poems

And Now for the Weather

Today is set to be agreeably alliterative  
across an assortment of areas 
although the occasional metaphor  
may cause some faces to cloud. 

Idioms will be coming down like stair rods 
in northern regions, while the south  
may experience the odd outbreak of similes, 
like an unexpected shower of arrows. 

In coastal, littoral, and seaside areas,  
synonyms remain likely.  
Further inland, sudden gusts of hyperbole 
look set to take your breath away 

and a series of scattered euphemisms  
will have you reaching for your wellies. 
If you’re driving, please be aware that tautologies  
of frozen ice are still affecting some roads,  

after a heavy, prolonged flurry of oxymorons.  
And finally – from tomorrow evening –  
expect the return of some light litotes,  
making next week’s outlook hardly the best. 

Poem written while waiting for a train at a provincial railway station

Selected poems

If I Could Have My Time Over

If I could have my time over,
I would do it all differently
and not treat each precious moment
with such disregard and flippancy.

I would use my time effectively,
I would think ahead and plan.
I would reserve my stores of energy,
and take charge when I can.

But it’s too late in the journey
for regret, too late to repent –
because there’s not a socket in sight,
and my battery’s on one per ce

World Book Day Book Awareness Day

News
A picture of my new book jacket, featuring a mildly perplexed man looking up at a giant horse with an egg shaped body.

Given it’s World Book Day, I suppose I should mention that I’ve got a new book coming out next month.

It’s called ‘How to Lay an Egg with a Horse Inside’: a collection of new poems, which also doubles up as a guide to enjoying and writing poetry.

It is not altogether serious.

It’s pre-orderable through your local friendly bookshop, plus those online ones.

Signed copies are available through the UK indie bookshops and here: https://uk.bookshop.org/a/295/9781035085729