C:\> DIR /Poetry
// Poetry
Beyond the brief and the brand voice, I write poetry. I love to play with language. Here is some of my work.
I'm a tiny explorer in your mouth with a torch
There are
shiny pink
gums and
a nice
spongy tongue
and big
white rocks
lined up in
long toothy
blocks there
is a funny
pendulum
sat above a
big wide gap
that hums
and gulps and
vibrates and
slaps and I’m
scared to
fall in so
I hold on with
my hands to
the spaces
between
your teeth
and to steady
myself I put
my foot
against
the bump
of a taste bud
I look up at the roof of your mouth
and I see stars
> Published in Zimmer Magazine
TODAY
Like strangers
looking at you when
you don’t want them to, today
is inevitable.
It’s a sweeping light house
under your skin
a headline act for the cracks
between the things
you tell yourself with
Best case scenario
it has the clarity of a summit.
The obvious, clean heart
of a vortex. A third eye
on your greatest forehead.
Worst case, it will park
in the creases of your shirt
and squat creepily
in your sink, like a toad
When strangers charge
down the street today
is in their knees.
It glides over their tongues
when they pull out
the restaurant spoon.
It’s as demanding as screens
as innocent
as a cartoon heart
It will wheel you
through the piss
It will take you home
> Read more poems on my instagram
At night we are a passage, the kind that smiles generously
Every night the warehouse sinks
your heart beats through your shoulders
We go a thousand miles above
the world inside a parchment folder
Turning through the alkaline hours
on dreams that shrink us small
Your hands curl up like leaves so that
the morning can blaze the hall
A shadow on the wall is a stalemate
your warm feet a promise
we are in love
you’re soft as a peach
and I am small as a dove
> Read more poems on my instagram
Batch cook
One dogged night in March
a friend chucked me an egg
I missed the catch, it hit the ground
got yolk all up my leg.
In the mess I saw my blips
everything I’d missed
my failures cracked out in goop
my mouth an empty fist. Now
it’s very hard to get things down
when the scene is this blissed out
when the rationale jumps up and frowns
the wind just whisks it out. But
every crack is a doorway really
and every crick’s a crook
so straighten that neck and eat the wave -
the rest is yet to look
> Read more poems on my instagram
Good body
Clear A poem A story
Simple in a song
Your body the garden
A toy for real
Again for moving a leg
> Read more poems on my instagram