We’re sleeping

some of us are ten to a bed

some of us are alone

waiting for a loved one to come in

from another room




some of us are old

some of us are ancient

some are just children

too young to have gone

to the Cimmerian crib

but the sandman practices

equal opportunities




there are those with fresh flowers

those with withering weeds

those who are beloved by all

those who are forgotten by most

but all are laid out in wooden pyjamas




when you walk across upturned soil

by the nightcaps of stone

with their epitaphs for dreams

when you read our names out

do so with respect and


hush now


we’re sleeping

the long dark sleep





Writing Update March 2017

1p036gdtv51ox7m1ap7l-_sx331_bo1204203200_zoon cover #3 (1)

Big decisions time, I think I’ve gone as far as I can go with publishing my own work on Amazon (I will still be using Amazon from some books/projects) so in the market for a mainstream publisher for all new books, including: Murder on the Alpha Centauri Express, Adventures with Upstairs Cat (children’s book) and my 2017 Poetry Collection, An Ageless Landscape.  Also in the market for an agent, taking my time with that and trying to find the right one for me.

Writing-wise, it’s been a good start to the year, half-way through my new #scifi #comedy novel The Deaths of Guner Zoon and really loving writing it.  Hoping to have more publishing news for you all soon.

Thank you for your readership


World Poetry Day

3 poems from my work-in-progress

Walking the Track


Stuttering with symbolism

seems silly

almost superfluous

to the everyday situation

starting out on the stretch

a sustained effort

both you and I

a willing struggle

with the stipulations

of betrothment


the long stride

strode in unison

following a set track

into the sweep of unknown

spaces unexplored


stuttering with symbolism

almost superfluous

but still suggestively symbolic

of hopes and dreams

Walking the Track

The Naked King

Proleek Tomb


Four millennia has stripped more than

a pound of flesh from your bones

the naked king is exposed to all

wanderers and weather

well-wishers and the wicked alike

bask in your ancient silhouette


by modernia


by the creep of crass chronologies

created by curious caretakers of faiths


The naked king reigns

the metaphoric monarch of imaginations

imagines all of us

our fleeting lives like dragonflies around

a stagnant pool


as he has stayed and will stay

until the wanderers and weather

wear his form from bone to stone

from stone to memory

from memory to


the Naked King

A Snail’s Progress


The weight is wearisome

the way is vertical

but the little creature wanders

along this pathway anyway


it was safer on the surface

could have cliqued into the cluster

there was order in the ordinary

but the little creature

choose to climb


I am a snail

halfway up

halfway down


weighted down with the baggage

of a tardy bard

could have sat at the foot of the wall

sluggishly watched it all


as it unfolded

the little creature

choose to climb any way

A Snail's Progress#1