Leaving Brighton: A Collection of Post Punk Poems available now on Kindle.

I am pleased to say my first collection of illustrated poems is now available to buy worldwide on Kindle for the ridiculously low price of £1.49 or whatever local currency you have spare – I kept it as low as possible so Bezos wouldn’t make millions out of me! Enjoy! Here’s the link or just search ‘Leaving Brighton’ on Amazon:



Hove 1985

she stood where the waves turned to leave
a smiling line of debris on the shore
he looked back over his shoulder
a line of grey buildings washed away
when she waved the sea came in
when he waved back the sea went out
somewhere very deep inside
they were both crying

Listening to the MJQ in the Mojave Desert

you might accuse me of not being there
but I might argue why bother
you might say my words are not authentic
but I might question your supposition why

here is my chair, here is my view
see what you will, it won’t cost you

you might want some further proof provided
but I might offer you none in return
you might try to reach out and touch me
but I might already be on the run

here is my chair, here is my view
feel what you want, it won’t cost you

you might not like jazz in the afternoon
but I might just turn the volume up high
you might not like the heat and the dust
but I might just turn you up to the sky

here is my chair, here is my view
hear what you want, it won’t cost you


the track through the canyon
is ever so understanding
the rocks and the boulders
cover my wanderings
no, I’m not really there
and I’m not really here
I am always elsewhere
so far and so near
travelling with the wanderlust
that binds my body to soul
from young to old
from shore to shore
I can hear the birds singing
calling me on



Places of Poetry

Here’s a wonderful poetry project that caught my attention:


‘Places of Poetry is open to all readers and writers. It aims to use creative writing to prompt reflection on national and cultural identities in England and Wales, celebrating the diversity, heritage and personalities of place.

The site is open for writers to pin their poems to places from 31st May to 4 October 2019. It will then be closed for new poems but will remain available for readers. We welcome writers of all ages and backgrounds. We want to gather as many perspectives on the places and histories of England and Wales.’

I hope I haven’t been too greedy by pinning five of my poems on the map! You can find them by searching these titles on the link below:

Notes from an Archaeological Dig
Winter Holidays
Ice Creams on Worthing Pier


Screenshot (56)

map courtesy of https://www.placesofpoetry.org.uk/


does a sense of entitlement
tangle up the mind?

– with anger and angst
– thoughts unkind

are any of our words
worth more than we need?

– food in our bellies
– air that we breathe

what value to creation
who pays and who buys?

– let’s keep it in perspective
– see truth through our eyes

our best poetry is yet to come (for Monique;)

poetry is for the moment
not necessarily for posterity
our words will fade away
as time slips from our grasp

perhaps a few will survive
our final gasping maelstrom
to be found by some future
poetic soul on another planet

preserved in a digital casket
waiting to ease their day
maybe they’ll be as lost as us
just trying to find their way


Creation Blues

well I’m sitting down here on this park bench
throwing some crumbs of worldly wisdom
to my waiting flock of feral pigeons

when a gang of youths run through my faithfuls
shouting fucking pigeons and fucking vermin
they scatter, regroup, whilst I watch on

I got them Creation Blues man
Oh yes, I got them Creation Blues
Them Creation Blues have come for me

well they goose step off, my peace restored
until a fat boy and girl begin to toss
their fast food packaging upon the grass

a hooded figure dashes out into the open
thrusts a shiny blade into their bulging guts
packets of white powder falling from his pockets

I got them Creation Blues man
Oh yes, I got them Creation Blues
Them Creation Blues have come for me

well I’m sorry to say, all Hell was then let loose
wild people appearing from many dark corners
brandishing knives and fighting for the powder

I turn to see the trees being chainsawed to the ground
great plumes of smoke drifting across the park
dog barks, police sirens, gun shots, explosions

I got them Creation Blues man
Oh yes, I got them Creation Blues
Them Creation Blues have come for me

well it felt like this was the end of my world
oh Jesus, Mary and Joseph I cried
deliver me from this evil that I created

but the words were silent, my voice had died
no-one was listening
they thought I’d lied

I got them Creation Blues man
Oh yes, I got them Creation Blues
Them Creation Blues have come for me