Hibernation

I crawled under the shed

amongst dust and stones

why I was there is not important

belly to the ground, back to timber joists

next to my head a nest

badly made of hay and leaves

dragged there

during a frozen time

there too within its bed

a sleeping badger

sleeping for so long

through ice and summers

seven years since

we met in January -

you had your arm

around a chicken

curled together in the coup

looked up at me and sighed,

so warm, such bounty and warmth,

looked down at the chicken

then ran,

a two toned bear across frosted fields,

too cold to be awake

and so you came back

tucked a bed under your arm

and went to sleep.

Here we find ourselves,

you and I,

under the shed;

I am alive

and you are dead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

ar 2025

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Thanks very much for listening. Art is an act of generosity and as such is made to be shared.

A few recent poems discussing the two halves of an argument, perspectives, and landscape. The soundtrack is also a collection of moments seen from the present moment back across the space of thirty three years and includes people and places of great significance to me. Musical Credits for recordings and samples to Nicky Spence, Catherine Carter Brand, Dougie Hudson, Florencia Garcia Chafuén, Gwen Sale, Breezy Lee, Marion and Jamie Kenny, Oliver and Anders Rigg.

Two Halves

An axe is only metal
without a handle
and a tail without a horse
is only hair.

An anchor without a chain
holds nothing
and a riser without a tread
is not a stair.

Conjunction without love
is only friction
and a word without a meaning
only air.

A step is not a journey
without intention
and colour without light
is just not there.

A palm without a life line
is only leather
and here is only here
if there’s a there.

The left and the right
were born together,
mirrored twins;
a hemi semi spherical
or demi demoniacle
acceptance of direction
rejection of dejection
the button and the whole
systole and diastole
the beat and the off
of a heart doubling
Venus and arterial.

A mountain is high above
The falls below.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AR 2025

Support the show

Thanks very much for listening. Art is an act of generosity and as such is made to be shared.

Doppler Gang

Thought it was you but no,
it was just your hair
on another woman’s head
she said I heard
you split so sorry
but
I wear her hide with pride.

Thought I was paranoid
until you stopped watching me
and now my daily motions
pass into obscurity,
my thoughts stranded
on the beach
of my own emotions.

Thought I was ready so
I girded my loins
for the afray, but hey,
the stage was empty
save for a discarded face
wipe that smile clean
into next week.

Thought I had the spunk
punk rocked me flat
with two blue eyes of
insolence sincere
and hench hens
surrounded me
with imagined complicity.

Thought my mind was made
up goes arse over
never say ever and
afterwards I lie,
separated from my own
head;
you’re such a globe ache.

Thought this song was
about you you’re so
lame your life’s a poem
that doesn’t rhyme
with mine goes into
re-verse so
I think I’ll walk, thanks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
ar 2025

Support the show

Thanks very much for listening. Art is an act of generosity and as such is made to be shared.