I've always had soft feet, but I suppose it's better than cold. A comparison of partner's feet. Even after saying it a few years ago, she still remembers. She plays with my feet, sometimes, And says that they are like a baby's, But maybe, a bit too big and hairy. With my right foot in … Continue reading Sole
Category: Poetry
A Day To Remember
Like the band, every cliche of returning home rings true. We're driving on the boundary Of the town they said we'd never leave, And every other cliche We wrote home about. And the boot's full and the tank's full And ahead there's a road just up ahead. If we drive for long enough We'll find … Continue reading A Day To Remember
Double Mattress
I'm more of a summer boy with my cider, but it wasn't designed for sharing a bed. I love you, but I'm going to kill you. Not in a horrible way! I'm going to take you somewhere cold and leave you there, Carry you if I have to, and try not to drop you with … Continue reading Double Mattress
An Acrostic for William Carlos Williams
The humour is subtle; Inches slender. Judged under stringent traits; Tough officials. Smiles are yours… Inbetween Humour and verses exists Every after-thought entering night. They hang everywhere; Parades like umbra matching suns. Thoughts hanging and timed Where every real escape Is niche. Thoughts have enemies In cells; etched brains on kisses. A new day White hard ice coming home. Yellow-ochre undertone White essence reveals empty Pockets, robbed of blame and blame lost yonder. Seasons are vast interlocking notes gone. Fear or reason, Be ready, even a kid feels aches some-times. Flying on rites, giving insides vertigo. Envy Meets envy. … Continue reading An Acrostic for William Carlos Williams
Rent (2)
Renting or buying, life is gonna cost you. In the style of Killing Time (2) by Simon Armitage. Work nine-to-five putting money into boxes. Got a little money, now you're feeling like a big whizz. Gotta behave; Money to save. Don't trust landlords, sneakier than foxes You know these walls, yeah? The ones where your … Continue reading Rent (2)
Getting There
After driving seven hours of what should have been two and a half to get to her graduation, we arrived past midnight after a day of work and the scare of a merging lorry. I was tired, I was proud. Next time, you can drive We started out on the southern rail lines Then moved … Continue reading Getting There
Auld Lang Syne
Old friends will be the death of me. Let old acquaintance be forgot,And never brought to mind.Let memories unneeded blot,For the sake of your mind"For tradition, mate,For tradition."We'll drink until we all forget,For the sake of tradition.Because you'll need more than a pintAnd I'll need one more too!And we'll drink until we all forget,A pasts … Continue reading Auld Lang Syne
IV – Tin Ark (Ali’s Shoe Project)
close friendships confinedexposed the breakmeals as quarrelling and flirtingescape is mischievousbanished to inflict distressgenuine beauty in the ordinarytime survivesthe usual diversions of sensetheir conversation surrenderdeparture, allthe days slipped and creakingthe blue eraobsessed lineshorror of womenhis right hand disputestood about the passagesthe dandy rankthe fact honourableetiquette relativequarrels and dispositionlove entirely garruloushandsome confinedglimpsed in a letter entertainedsuspicion … Continue reading IV – Tin Ark (Ali’s Shoe Project)
Shorts (A collection from The Twenty-Something)
I've been quite lazy with my poetry this year, and should really get back to working on it. Here's a collection of short poems I wrote from the years gone by. Wholemeal I'm yeast, stubborn, Down to the soul.Sour, the worst thing Since bread came whole. Forms of Delerium A poem found in Russia (and … Continue reading Shorts (A collection from The Twenty-Something)
The Road / Portal
The Road School Lane ~ 9:57pmThe car hurtles 40, 50, 60and devours;the tarmac, the trees,the white lines that colour betweenbut still the approaching black.60, 70, 80no passenger side Kerouacjust empty metal, and McCarthy,the frame work ready to fightthe next smallest thingand the car hurtleswhere Kerouac’s been.80, 90… no.The engine tries inside its frameand tries, and … Continue reading The Road / Portal
AF Cowlin 