Kickstart Your Heart

Here’s a list of my latest poems. Go to Kickstart Your Heart to find them all!


  • Ferry journey to Father
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    My ninety one year old father, sending me sixty year birthday greetings and prior to yet another stair fall… Just after my 60th birthday I went on a pilgrimage to my 91 year old father. To call it just a typical family visit would be an understatement. One never knows what... Read more »
  • Louis & Jack
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    I have long dreamt about celebrating our rescue dog, Jack-the-Lad. I hit on the idea of trying to capture his character, via “a day in the life” type of approach. When I met photographer Dora Kazmierak, I knew that I had the answer. She has well-curated many aspects of this... Read more »
  • Memories of Mount Ievers
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    A homage to a heritage house built in 1740, situated in Co. Clare. I have had some access to it for the past thirty years. Mount Ievers stands on one hundred acres of forest and field. It has survived many angry epochs of Irish history, and still remains in the... Read more »
  • did i jump, or was i pushed, that day?
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    sixties school drop-out, academic failure, existential attitude, my default behaviour, never hip enough to fall out of favour.   working class mates led different lives, pub-drinking and disco-fevered jives; alone in suburbia, absent sharp knives.   smoking scented French cigarettes, playing songwriter LPs, sad mindset, crude, clumsy poet: no literary threat.   “would i like to hear a bible speaker”? a neighbour asked... Read more »
  • we are nothing without our eyes
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      we are nothing without our eyes – easily shown anger, or brazen lies, pupils praise, or arrogantly despise.   such large scope, such small sphere, eye informs brain, tests atmosphere: calculates, calibrates, finally coheres.   eyes express, apertures amaze, speak when I can’t find right phrase; withering looks, making pride pay.   eyes grow weary, oft endless waiting, steady your gaze, halt all... Read more »
  • Ring out, easter bells!
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    Once-wounded, stripped, lash-whipped, punish punctuated that holy script; Quake-opened graves, eclipse-dark day; the tomb found empty, explain that away.   His tender mercies, so slow-detected our threadbare veins with life injected, our debts now settled: balance is nought, this story outlasts all shallow thought.   Ring out, easter bells! sing, seasonal choir! rhyme with worship, let poems inspire: rescue deed done, deep... Read more »
  • each visit may be our final meeting
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    Click to view slideshow. We smoke slim cigars, sitting at ease in your small, sunken sitting room, music blares, Hemmings heirloom: classical or jazz styles, both please. Caribbean smog scent-cloaks, you clear throat of catarrh croak;   our catch-up recalls connections, old family dramas over-provoked few chances left, lives time-choked. tongues crippled by over-corrections. Questions now rephrased, more kindly, words aim to bless... Read more »
  • Bedded, blessed and bared
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    So many contemporary depictions of sex are crass, pornographic and over-idealistic, in novels and films. This poem attempts to be forthrightly erotic, and at the same time, biblically subtle. Plump and pretty, crowned with surprise; beautiful your buttons, delightfully they rise, gravity un-defied, our bodies slightly battered, tired limbs entangled, hearts somewhat tattered. Fumbling blind in your... Read more »
  • Dull the menu
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    Still the autumn air, crisp and cold, familiar fireside tales soon retold; I’m chaperoned by terrier, Jack; plants get sniffed, then he runs back.   The pebble-path underfoot crunches, old boughs sag, blessed apple bunches: hanging harvest, waits to be plucked, the windfalls onto tall compost chucked.   Almost-contained, that rotting tide: a suet pudding with wet worms inside, sluggishly digested, puree... Read more »
  • Down high hedgerow lanes
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    Douglas Percy Bliss Take me down high hedgerow lanes when happy summer sun is high, past the somnolent old houses as hallowed haze blurs the sky.   I will walk with stick on shoulder, my skulking collie leads the way, birdsong embroiders fertile foliage, wild mammals tenuously stray.   Few cars colonise this rural scene, noble trees wear leafy crowns, I walk to... Read more »