The October Blood – Part Two
The true new beginning is to live stripped,
willing
and wilful at
the starving edge
of brightening days, where solstice endured
yields to winter birthing spring.
The October Blood – Part One
These wisps of disconsolation
are a fleeting eulogy to falling,
a carol to the withering season.
The Song of a Motherless Son
I curled my hand around its grace;
it touched my soul like a mother’s face.
Last Rites
Then when the stars
tumble from the sky
at the end, our shining
will illuminate scars on
love’s invincible face.
A Poetic Manifesto
I will speak out about my city in my ready northern tongue and make a simple solid vow to tell your stories with the honesty I got from you.
The Sleeping Giant of Communal Action.
I hope that whatever happens in the Labour leadership elections the spectres, or are they the angels of social concern, communal action, and a commitment to again slay the modern versions of the five giant evils, will visit us again.
Enchanted Rock
What is it about these places that inspires a sense of awe. No wonder the first peoples named them as sacred.
My Life So Far – Interview on Radio Sheffield
I have just done an interview about my life as a poet and a broken-down human being on my local radio station