A Brief History of the #

Assorted Poems, Some poems

#barcamp #hashtag #FF #best
#wordgame #punfun #trulyblessed
#dingdong #romcom# #HaveYourSay
#pingpong #nomnom #EdBallsDay

#haiku #selfie #squadgoals #hope
#OneDirection #favouritesoap
#BlackLivesMatter #ReachOut #JoinIn
#Sponsored #Starbucks #BurgerKing

#JeSuisCharlie #LoveNotHate
#Strictly #Cecil #Oink #PigGate
#Bowie #UKIP #FoodbankQueues
#Brexit #AltRight #Trump #FakeNews

#Putin #Brexit #NorthKorea
#Trump #Covfefe #GrowingFear
#Trump #RedButton #ThirdWorldWar

#Pyongyang #Seoul #NewYork #Berlin
#Brexit #Beirut #Beijing #Turin
#FallOut #Famine #DeathCount #Violence
#JeSuisEarth #JeSuisSilence

Brian Bilston’s Poems – all gathered up into some kind of book thing

Assorted Poems, News

I’m pleased to say that my poetry collection You Took the Last Bus Home has now published and is available through bookshops and online stores in both print and ebook formats.

If you’re interested in buying a copy, do seek out your local bookshop – or Hive is an excellent online alternative, as it allows independent bookshops to benefit, thus enabling the book industry as a whole to continue to thrive.


It will publish in the US in January.

If you’d like to read more about how I went from posting poems in tweets and blog postings to publishing a book, you can read about it here in a piece I’ve recently written for The Irish Times.


Brian Bilston

Please excuse me

Assorted Poems, Some poems

My dear ambassador, I am afraid
I am unable to join your pompous parade
of dignitaries on Thursday evening,
because I am working my way through
seven seasons of The West Wing,
Such an enthralling drama, I have found;
it passed me by first time around.

How thoughtful of you to invite me
to this exhibition by contemporary artists
on ‘Post-Urban Space: Dislocation and Catharsis’;
it’s an important theme that resonates
deep within me. But I cannot make this date,
nor indeed the next six weeks;
I have to read ten thousand tweets.

Dear Lord and Lady Asquith, I was charmed
to receive in the post today, your card
inviting me to supper at Hedge End –
ever the magnificent setting.
Gustav’s profiteroles are legend.
I would love to come, I really would rather,
but I’ve reached a new level on Candy Crush Saga.

Dear chat show producer, thank you so much
for the opportunity to sit on your sofa
and, amidst the giggles and knee-touches,
promote my brand and new book over
a million television sets.
Sadly, with regret, I must say no;
a cat upon one’s lap does limit one so.

Thank you, world, for thinking of me,
but I’ve never been much good at society.
Please do not think me rude
but I would rather hide my shyness
in solitude, behind a screen,

and use my own knife
to whittle down the hours of life,
to something barely seen.

Stuart Mould has invited you to join his professional network

Assorted Poems, Some poems


Stuart Mould has invited you
to join his professional network.

He is wearing
a tuxedo and the smirk

of a man unfamiliar
with the concept of rejection.

Stuart Mould has four thousand
and fifty-eight connections.

Small wonder given the way
he generates

you never knew

existed. It’s all there
in his results-driven profile.

It appears he will go
the extra mile

in his position as
Customer Solutions Architect.

I don’t know why
but I click accept.


Stuart Mould has endorsed you for the following skills:

Marketing ✓
Leading Teams ✓
Targeting ✓
Weaving Dreams ✓

Scuba diving ✓
Semaphore ✓
Lego building ✓
Harp (Grade Four) ✓

Chess playing ✓
Home baking ✓
Soothsaying ✓
Lovemaking ✓

That’s a lot
of endorsements to get

from someone
who I have never met.


Stuart Mould has written you a recommendation
that you can include on your profile page.

“Bold strides this colossus in the workplace
with footsteps firm and full of flawless grace,
noble of purpose and so fair of face,
greeting PowerPoint with such fond embrace.

O Mighty Strategist! Leader Complete!
The Pivot-fabled Slayer of Spreadsheets!
Analytical Artist! Office Athlete!
Leviathan of the Corporate Elite!”

I must admit
I hesitated.

It seemed a little


Stuart Mould has invited you to join him and his family for two weeks
in their delightful villa situated near the Rio Real Golf Course,
and just ten miles from the charming, bustling city of Marbella.

I went, of course.
I’m no fool.

It had a private
swimming pool

where I, alongside
his four thousand contacts,

swam and schmoozed,
snoozed, relaxed,

after mornings
on sun-parched links,

and the clink of ice
in noon-time drinks.

We, the Professional Network
of Stuart Mould,

his corporate army,
paraded, parasoled,

a linked in, in sync

I eventually met
the man himself.

He was not as bad
as I expected.

I felt I had –
at last – connected.

For we shall stare at mobile phones

Assorted Poems, Some poems

Streets shrug as we roam back to our homes,
obstacle courses of lampposts and cones.
For we shall stare at mobile phones.

Landmarks languish and attractions close;
statues, cathedrals, Byzantine domes.
For we shall stare at mobile phones.

Reading gets shelved, poetry and prose,
with the dusty rebuke of neglected tomes.
For we shall stare at mobile phones.

Conversation falters, dries up, unflows,
feelings once said, lie buried, unknown.
For we shall stare at mobile phones.

Yes, we shall stare at mobile phones,
when we’re together and when we’re alone.
For we shall stare at mobile phones.

And when we die, let’s hope they’re thrown
into the pit with our crumbling bones.
So that we might stare at mobile phones.