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I have some poems published in magazine format and online. Coffee House Poetry was a subscription paper magazine run by Cinnamon Press. It is no longer in print, but Cinnamon now run Envoi. The poems printed are Blue in Issue 2, January 2004 and Chippy in Issue 3, May 2004. Chippy Written at age 18
Blue was a poem I wrote in school exercise in an English class.
Blue
Written at age 18
Cold colour: beautiful; my colour: cold.
Wet death; neutral; my death: wet.
Sky and sea; this is me: faded jeans, old.
Here's my eyes; watch my lies; faded dreams: wet.
In Chippy I wrote about a piece of artwork I constructed during my 'A' Level. To see a photo of Chippy, view my 'A' Level Art Page.
Chippy
Written at age 18
Solid, sordid origins; planted backbone, thighs and shins.
i'm Geppetto Frankenstien; splitting wooden planks of mine.
Knocking bolt, sandwich nailing; relationships of joints my failing.
Unplaiting heavy rope to twine around the body of my mind.
Self built, self sweating portrait; is my life - waste, too late.
This was turned from she to he; steeped in ambiguity.
Leaning backwards dangerously; falling over constantly
Finally she found support but still she sat in tense contort.
Powerful image, separate pieces; on high she sits, too large for life.
Touch, smell, observe her: Find me. She is my wife.
i built her to please me. You don't need to humour me.
She's my Chippy; i'm the block. There is much more and much that's not.
Velvet Magazine published another poem of mine written at age 18, about riding my motorbike. It went into the poetry special issue (issue 10, November 2006)
Ride On Me
As I enter her bedroom she screams:
"RIDE ON ME, ride me!"
An eye-piercing yell from the engine of her heart.
I don black leather and a cap
knock her over whilst I mount
kick her and she starts to pant
quivering between my legs I trap.
I begin to ride her faster, faster
clutching, kicking, breaking her.
She rockets but she shakes like hell
I thrash her but I love her well.
I ride her daily, she is mine
her body sizzles every time.
When I've finished, pleasure's over,
I leave her, exhausted, in her house to rest
take my helmet off, my gear,
carefully lock the garage door.
Strange to say that until recently my best poems were written at the tender age of 18, but I came to see writing poetry as being pretentious and was embarrassed about it in my early twenties. Now I'm getting back into writing poetry again, some of it intermingled with my prose. I have WritersBeat.com and their competitions to thank for this, and also Ambit Magazine for inspiring me. For poetry on WB, see my online portfolio. My poems now are a lot more ironic, less self-conscious and thankfully less sexually repressed!
To see more of my poetry, check out the links on my Writing Portfolio.