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Author Archives: Pedalling Poetry
They gonna play my song on the radio!
Blue Valentine is out on BBC Introducing: Fresh On The Net Monday 10th October, between 1am and 3am, and it’ll be on the podcast, so you don’t have to stay up (as if you would!) Meanwhile you can hear it and … Continue reading
Posted in Songs
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Soon to be rebuilt by the Clyde
I am lucky enough to have been chosen as one of four mentees of the Clydebuilt Verse Apprenticeship Scheme this year, run by St Mungo’s Mirrorball and Glasgow City Council. My fellow mentalists are the wonderful Maggie Rabatski, whose poetry I’ve … Continue reading
Posted in Uncategorized
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Mourning in Arduaine – published in New Writing Scotland 29
A cool mercury light, Water pulling sky to sea, That soft grey sympathy Of water and stone. Shuna, small and jagged, Echoed, with variations, By Luing. Seil a faint fond shadow Embracing them both. Each made of the same stone … Continue reading
Posted in Death, Poems
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Tea
A teacup talks to the child whose nose just clears the table, its pink and blue flowers eloquent in their simplicity, the rim and handle gilt worn in the places his grandmother’s lips and fingers have touched it; it speaks … Continue reading
Posted in Death, Poems
Tagged Bone china, England, Mug, Tea, Tea set, Teacup, Teapot
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Shopping
Heading home with a jar of jam and a pint of gin – Bonne Maman and Mother’s Ruin, bring it on!
Posted in Uncategorized
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Working out of the net
I take the lift to the top of the Mack out of the tightening web of people and breathe the quiet dark, as by a country fireside, with the city nestled like a bed of embers among the hills. I see … Continue reading
Posted in Poems
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They paved paradise
On a river walk I found myself arrested by the Glasgow Quay, which winds unwary Clydeside strollers into a fenced spiral of consumerism, a giant urban entertainment trap for the unemployed. I was walking through the car park, cursing and … Continue reading
Posted in Guerilla anti-consumerism
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Thoughts ahead of the day of the dead IV
Took a taxi to the cemetery as dusk fell hoping the gates wouldn’t close, thirteen pounds, hmm, a handful of white star lilies and a short note, love you Dad, sorry I’m late, keep the meter running would you? Back … Continue reading
Posted in Death
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Homecoming
A bloodgold sunset will tinderbox the sky of shepherd’s warning clouds above the Kelvin as you think it was right to come home.
Posted in Uncategorized
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