Friday, 29 July 2011

Free ebooks now available


Free ebooks are now available for download at A Glimpse Beyond... and A Prelude to Apocalypse can be downloaded free of charge in 7 different formats or viewed online in 3. They are provided as an introduction to my work in a way that allows some-one to read my poems at their leisure rather than having to visit my websites to view them.

Tuesday, 26 July 2011

Waking Nightmare

I feel my mind is slowly lifting
Through hidden doors dark shades are drifting
Last ghosts of quickly fading dreams
Retreating forms of silent screams

In momentary silence lying
With unseen nightmare spectres dying
My drowsy sleep-thick mind is idling
Why is the air so warm and stifling?

I open up my eyes to see
But all is black, how can this be?
How can there be no shred of light?
My god, could I have lost my sight?

Why do I feel so stiff and sore?
Why am I lying on the floor?
So hard to move my arms from rest
Why are they folded on my chest?

I raise my hand to test eyes flawed
My knuckles graze against rough board
My elbows knock restricting sides
With horror then I realise

Like half-remembered memories
Nghtmarish echoes surge with ease
From dark recesses of my brain
Where they were locked to save me pain

I hear the grieving mourners moaning
The distant solemn voice is droning
Of how life can be so unjust
Ash to ash and dust to dust

But these spectres are from no dream
No-one can hear but still I scream
My heart is filled with icy dread
They’ve buried me, BUT I`M NOT DEAD!

Sunday, 24 July 2011

A moment of clarity...

Apocalyptic Vision, the title poem from my anthology of Dark Poetry Apocalyptic Visions, has special significance for me as it was the first. It was written during the winter of 1990-91 as the world held its breath awaiting the inevitability of the 1st Gulf War. At the time I was living in the attic of an isolated tumble-down bungalow on the Lizard Peninsula in Cornwall, struggling to survive on little money and less hope for the future as I mourned a love lost. By night I drank and wandered the rugged Lizard Downs, often finding myself at the cliff top above The Point, by day I slept off the night before. I felt my life could get no lower. Then everything changed...
On a crisp winter’s day I aimlessly wandered the streets of Helston during a rare daytime visit to civilization, noticing the shoppers going about their day little more than they noticed me. I was pulled up suddenly by a strange noise that was not so much heard over the bustle that surrounded me as felt under it; a kind of throbbing vibration in my breast and temple that droned on and on, louder and louder. I looked about in confusion to find the source and saw that no-one else was reacting, the crowd simply parted about me with a mutter and a scowl at my obstruction of their vital journey. Slowly my gaze was drawn upwards as I realised the noise came from above, beyond the low hanging blanket of cloud, as comprehension washed over me like cold rain. I was hearing aero-engines, big ones. Some-where high above this small town English street large aircraft droned across the sky, bringing to mind US B-52 heavy bombers en-route to the Persian Gulf. The throbbing reverberation rumbled on, increasing to a dull roar that surely even the most ardent bargain hunter could not ignore, and yet they did, paying more attention to the obvious lunatic staring dumbly at the sky and blocking their path to the sale signs.
At that precise moment I had an epiphany. I immediately purchased a pen and note-book and boarded the first bus home, sketching out the bare bones of the first couple stanzas of my Apocalyptic Vision by the time I reached the bungalow. I retreated to the attic, my garret, and continued to write...
The contents of Apocalyptic Visions is a direct expression of that moment...

Wednesday, 20 July 2011

Runaway Train

Happy haddock, willow tree
Humpty dumpty, silver sea
Ping pong, bunny, apple pie
Singing haystack, purple sky
Little teapot, grinning cat
Talking horses, silly hat
Parcels, ribbons,tiny tots
Sky blue pink with polka dots
Roasted peanuts, candyfloss
Silver moonlight, springy moss
Rainy mondays, growing grass
Snakes in apples made of glass
Rocket, lolly, unicorn
Bugle, trumpet, rhino horn
Mary poppins, poppy seed
Bill and Ben and little weed
Wibble, wibble, blibble blime
Honey suckle, twist of lime
Silly sausage, carrot top
Pc Plod and Mrs Mop
Ivor engine, rousing song
Hanging baskets, Babylon
Wizard, fairy, crimson grape
Icy snowflake, sticky tape
Milky, milky, gooey cake
Yellow roses, frying stake
Choking laughter, falling star
Deafened by a bridge too far
Floating sofa, fishing gnome
Smokey bacon running home
Howdy doody Mr Spoon
Comfy ceiling, tiny room
Birdies tweeting, bouncing ball
River deep and building tall
Spotty toadstools, angel sings
Brainy badger, ravens wings
Giant beanstalk, puss-in-boots
Mother Goose in big black boots
Scented candles, ticking clock
Climb the ladder, on the block
Round in circles, chase your tail
Falling ashtray, sirens wail
Cabbage corner, smoking joint
Woven basket, needle point
Wedding bells for dusty bin
Bright confetti, creeping sin
Dancing oysters, pea green boat
Bright balloons, they bounce and float
Snowball fights in sylvan woods
Burning crosses, pointy hoods
Teeter-totter, swinging tyre
Metal monsters, spitting fire
Gaudy pennants, coloured plumes
Silent children, cloying fumes
Jingle, jingle, sleigh bell rings
Rising waters, acid stings
Test-tube babies, empty beds
Missing limbs and extra heads
Smiling faces, staring eyes
Crawling beetles, buzzing flies
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Mellow music, padded white
Baggy trousers, jacket tight
Platitudes, a bright new pin
Oblivion is closing in...

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Monday, 18 July 2011

Beyond the Mask cover design.

Here is the new cover designed by Caroline Quin (Facebook profile) for my soon to be released book of poetry, Beyond the Mask.

Have a look at the sample poems:

The Jumper
The Treatment
No Compost Mennis

The new book is scheduled for release on 20th July, 2011.

Sunday, 17 July 2011

No Compost Mennis

There are toys in my attic
But the marbles have gone
There is no-body up there
But the light is still on

Though the lift is still working
It won’t go to the top
A screw has worked itself loose
And it made the lift stop

There are bats in my belfry
And their chatter has no end
So I climbed off my rocker
Up the pole and round the bend
Now I’m free, out to lunch
All the fairies are there
We’re dining with the Hatter
And the rabid March Hare

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Apocalyptic Visions cover design

Caroline Quin (Facebook profile) has produced this brief video demonstrating how she designed the cover for my book, Apocalyptic Visions.
Take a look at the sample poems:

A Painful Truth
Prosperity Calls

Caroline has also designed the cover for my up coming poetry anthology, Beyond the Mask so watch this space, details coming soon...

Sunday, 10 July 2011

The Jumper

I have out-lived my usefulness
Rejected to my loneliness
Discarded here upon the shelf
My only company, myself

It is a dreadful truth to see
To know that no-body wants me
Of this sad fact there is no doubt
Who’d want me now, I’m too worn out

Before me now my life is played
As I sit here with edges frayed
Each fibre of my being stretched
My misery in creases etched

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Unravelling, I wonder why
It came to this, I start to cry
I long for peace in endless sleep
With eyes closed, off the cliff I leap

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Saturday, 9 July 2011

New cover commissioned for Apocalyptic Visions

The Revised Edition of Apocalyptic Visions has now been released with its all new cover. The new design has been commissioned from accomplished artist, Caroline Quin, who created the image after reading the poems within.

The new cover is a striking addition to this new edition of the book which includes the fully restored version of the title poem, Apocalyptic Vision, along with two new poems not included in the First Edition. This eye-catching and atmospheric image is perfectly in keeping with the major themes of this anthology of Dark Poetry and greatly enhances this new release.

The Revised Edition of Apocalyptic Visions is now available to buy on Amazon.

Thursday, 7 July 2011

The Treatment

Alone I sit within my room
So small and painted white
Walls padded like my mother’s womb
And lit by blinding light

Some-one behind, I don’t know whom
Then draws my jacket tight
Into my view strange faces loom
And tell me it’s alright

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A needle’s jab brings torpid doom
It does not help to fight
They lock me in my sterile tomb
You think this soothes my plight?

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Tuesday, 5 July 2011

Prosperity Calls

The charges are set
We’re ready to blast
There’s no need to worry
The mountain will last
This rubble is needed
For factory walls
We’ve no time to rest
Prosperity calls

Stoke up the furnace
Don’t let the fire die
Keep the coal coming
An endless supply
We must keep producing
There’s more fuel to burn
The darkness at noon
Is not our concern

There’s no time to rest
There’re more trees to fell
The more we cut down
The more we can sell
It’s all they are good for
They’re dead anyway
Soaked in pollution
To wither away

Send out the trawlers
With wall of death nets
There must be an hour
Before the sun sets
We have to work harder
The only solution
There’s less fish to catch
That’s man’s contribution

The pressure is mounting
Our profits are down
There’s no time for sleeping
Get up off the ground
Buy Ebook here
There’s so little time left
We have to get on
Why is it so dark?
Where has our world gone?

Support independent publishing: Buy this book on Lulu.