Tuesday, 27 September 2016

The Sage Of The New Age

A lull full of sweet tea, drums going on somewhere and a one-sided conversation led by a young man who holds his audience with Messianic power and it seems that, for the circle who listen to him at least, that he has all the answers: what’s really going on in politics, how the old order is crumbling and how everyone keeps working because they are too afraid to try doing something else. Jim's thinking you should try having a mortgage and two children and see how brave you feel then when this sage of the new age lets slip that his favourite movie is True Grit which makes the rest of what he has to say easier to swallow.

Wednesday, 21 September 2016

The Face In The Window

A face in the window. Pale face,
black glass. The frame painted
in faded farmyard burgundy,
the honey coloured stone of the wall
peppered with flint.

The journey to here
carried out in haste:
a poised energy 
by the green in the wood,
not rushed, although there’s no time 
to stand still… a pleasure
in movement.

Here, the waterwheel
that hasn’t spun
in a generation, green slime
on the paddle blades.

Something watches within the woods,
a red smudge of fox, the sky is an eye
and the eye blazes its gaze
to a place far below the earth
and somewhere close by
the barn owl, the blue wolf.

You take one last look 
at the face in the window. Turn
for home, a money spider dangles 
from the brim of your hat.

Photo: Su Joy 2016

Thursday, 15 September 2016


The abracadabra 
of tent poles
and the threading
of invisible loopholes

sequins of light
cardamom and chilli

burns in the tea
the head
the bloodstream

sequinned light
dazzle threads
through invisible loopholes

far from home now
strange hills
and the abracadabra 
of tent poles

Friday, 9 September 2016

Second Stop

The second stop sees a celebrity doppleganger in the supermarket where a man in the bakery aisle looks the spit of Jeremy Clarkson except his body language is devoid of self-confidence and his tongue, when he says something to his wife about needing a loaf of bread, lacks the swerve and verve of Clarkson’s wit. 

I can’t get out of the place quick enough: too many colours trigger dislocation and I have no idea why I thought to go in there in the first place, the best bargain being the sweep of the automatic doors and daylight, the promise of the road again.

Saturday, 3 September 2016

First Stop

First stop 
pick up prescriptions 
to stave off infections, 
stomach in knots 
and a flock 
of distractions 
the fear of more cake ignitions
the hospital carpark crammed, 
no shortage of customers 
in this, the age of recessions. 


Morlock Oil

Morlock Oil
A new collection of stories available now . Click on image for details.

The Quest Of Great Celtic Mystery

The Quest Of Great Celtic Mystery
New Chapbook Available (email rockinahill@gmail.com for details)


Bunchgrass Press

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