Wrestling Emily Dickinson

I went on holiday by mistake - or at least on the spur of the moment - this week, hopping up to the Lake District town of Staveley with a fr...

Yes, I did delete the poem in the last post. That's coz I entered it in a competition and was worried the organisers might consider a po...

As you might surmise from the relative silence on this blog in recent times, I've been busy. June has been a hectic month, with lots of ...

One of the nice things about blogging is that you don't always have to keep to your beat. So while this blog mainly concerns itself with...

With Gil Scott-Heron having died recently, I think it's inevitable that most poets will have had their thoughts turning to ripping off o...

Hey people - I realise there haven't been a lot of long and detailed posts on here for a while. This will probably continue for a while ...

Mum’s boots: brown leather creeping up my bare calf, heel thrown at an odd angle forcing my foot to slant, to curve; John’s Swiss Army K...