PROPAGANDA 11
Blue lights, giddy-paced.
Terraces flounced clear.
We ashened into utility basement,
no sandbags.
High-rises grumbled to dust.
*
Blue lights
flounced
utility basement
no
High-rises
*
Blue lights, verged on revelling.
Chickenhearts flounced slumwards.
Washing machine trundled in utility basement,
no power glitches.
High-rises evacuated.
PROPAGANDA 12
Limpid, teeth-chattering daylight.
Parade of blasted workers,
grubby flags.
Dressing-stations blobbed red –
human tatters.
*
daylight
Parade of
flags
red
human
*
Gaze-clearing daylight.
Parade of withered laurels,
under our emboldened flags.
Mugs burn red
at human tomfoolery.
PROPAGANDA 13
Chunk of gushing mush,
Tibia into loin.
Widow grimaces.
Orderly mumbles –
Comfort.
*
Chunk of
Tibia
Widow
Orderly
Comfort
*
Chunk of pluck,
Tibia solid, reset.
Widow’s grateful.
Orderly bellows –
Joe Public’s anthem, for comfort.
PROPAGANDA 14
Bomb-dropping petered out.
The mortal niched in rows.
Glare via shattered windows.
Turned down kindness.
Bravery hollow.
*
petered out
niched in rows
windows
kindness
hollow
*
Doggedness petered out.
Outstayers niched in rows.
Thaw from cruddy windows.
Scant principles of kindness.
Backchat is hollow.
PROPAGANDA 15
Beacons stream panicked harbour.
Vessels eyed.
Anchors uprushed.
Torpedoes barraged at stern.
Din, rumbling.
*
harbour
Vessels
uprushed
at stern
Din
*
Majestic harbour welcome.
Vessels lean.
Tally-hos uprushed.
Bubbling at stern.
Din, rollers jolt.
2005 saw the publication of his collection LOVEBITES published by Chanticleer Press, 6/1 Jamaica Mews, Edinburgh. He made a digital film with artists Kate Sweeney and Julie Ballands at a film making workshop called Out Of The Picture which was shown at the festival party for Proudwords, it contains his poem The Old Heave-Ho. He worked on a collaborative art and literature project called How Gay Are Your Genes, facilitated by Lisa Mathews (poet) which exhibited at The Hatton Gallery, Newcastle University, including a film piece by the artist Predrag Pajdic in which he read his poem On Brenkley St.