Kickstart Your Heart

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


  • Null Set *
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    Ronald – ride your trike and smile; short will be your life: sickness comes, then strife.   Five photos that’s all I have: character shortfall; clueless, all in all.   II. Slender throat hard crushed, strangled until terror shushed; brutal breach of trust.   Did my grandfather regret that dreadful deed when he met his maker – null set. ___________________________________________________________________ * “null set” (also called the empty... Read more »
  • Pop Pickers and Pirates
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      The cogged radio knob was grasped & turned, a green lotus light bloomed, energy slowly unlocked: this moment holy, on rough cord carpet kneeled a pubescent “pop picker” in audio adoration, short trousered knees were tattooed by Tintawn, heart and soul in hostage to Motown melodies, thrilled at the illicit discovery of pirate stations….     Radio... Read more »
  • Athanasius’ Third Arrest, 356 A.D.
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    Holy Coptic chants solemnly resonate, somnambulant Eastern liturgical drone: heaven’s hope echoing off stone church walls. Cassocks, candelabras and kiot*, gold-tinted. Altar and icons by incense clouded, praying priests half-hidden by holy haze, God’s grace spice-suffusing the sanctuary.   At midnight mass, Caesar’s dark legions came smashed the sacred, bolted doors, slashed with indiscriminate swords, pagan... Read more »
  • Horse Show Scenes
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    Poem and photos based on experiences of the Royal Dublin Society Annual Horse Show Wafting smell of wax-polished leather, boxed-in royalty, equines stand tethered; sweet scent drifts from dark passage stalls, echoing announcements over speaker calls. Girls command horses, fifteen hands high, tight jodhpurs, high boots makes this male sigh: blond-hair, blush cheeks, so snug their jackets; wild-eyed... Read more »
  • This is Where I first Believed
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      Architecture in Victorian style, gallant hymns, strained smiles: few assembled believers, old-fashioned and ever eager; Sabbath spirit static, prayer sincere, pragmatic.   Scripture texts in Gothic script, pilgrim people gripped by heavenly hope proposed, platform preacher posed queries: idols and curses refuted by bible verses.   Lone brethren, battle besieged: message mocked, unbelieved by secular modern minds – “How can they be so blind?” Truth’s tiger timid... Read more »
  • I’m not saying bikes are better
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    Backstory to poem: a cycling friend related an aggressive driver / peaceful cyclist encounter. It took place as parents and children pedalled to school one morning. When the careless car driver was challenged over unsafe actions by the law-abiding parent cyclist, the driver uttered the ridiculous rebuttal: “Why don’t you... Read more »
  • Lawrence Coster: The Apostle of Printing (c. 1420)
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    With willow wood you wooed your beau, setting her heart and mind aglow: solitary-seated by canals you etched, then slowly the sharp blade sketched lovers initials intertwined, sharp incisions on branch birthed blessings: Eden’s vision.   This lover’s present then parchment-wrapped, carved cyphers secretly sang, summoned sap: overnight it oozed from peeled willow wood, catechist-craftsman created an imprint good; then came Gutenberg-bible,... Read more »
  • Hope Drunk Hearts
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        artist: Mahmoud Qoqyan https://www.artpeoplegallery.com/mahmoud-qoqyan-painting/ ___________________________________________________________________   Those ancient prophecies proven true: palms nail-pinioned, skin flayed through, ankles anchored on cruel cruciform, king mock-crowned with braided thorns.   Sadistic suffering, lone dreadful death, no respirator for last few breaths, dark night of soul, sun’s eerie eclipse, not scared he stared into dark abyss.   Evil Easter, bloody slaughter scene, most men fled, women stayed keen; briefly buried... Read more »
  • Shaftesbury, the Poor Man’s Earl
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      You shrewdly observed the pathetic poor that begged, brawled and slyly swindled; compelled by command to unlock doors: jubilee justice and anger slowly kindled.   Children slept under weaving looms, tugged wagons in deep coal caverns, choked in chimney stack soot and fumes; parents wages wasted in gin taverns.   Your proxy mother was mindful maid who whispered nightly maternal... Read more »
  • Creaking Carriages, Stuttering Slow
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    Creaking carriages, stuttering slow, children wave and off we go, speed parts their innocent smiles, blurred black and white platform tiles, rocking rhythm, cracked record style.   Squat country cottages – you smile so! Good things in garden plots grow,   sentried by slap-dash lean to‘s: mismatched timber, weathered hues all held by rusty nails or screws. Shuttling, shouting –... Read more »