My name is James and this personal website is an attempt to archive my writing which predominately is (under a loose banner) poetry
I started writing things down at the age of 17 in 1992, initially with no other idea of plan then to keep a record of my thoughts and feelings. Given my growing up experiences it felt like the perfect way to apply some self help therapy
i am left confused and conflicted –
by my father’s death
having stood and watched,
as he sailed away on his final breaths
read more Sailing Away on Final Breaths – Written Wednesday 22nd January 2020 (aged 44)
the tain may have been distant
a rumble in the hills that rise in my brain
it may have been arriving,
which is why i shook in my frame
read more I Called for Your Train (An Unfinished Piece) – Written August 1999 (Aged 24)
it is amazing,
our lives have such reflections
in the fragility of single pane glazing
windows with views we cling to
the female journalist
hangs on with greasy hands
she is in a job with suspect talent
and is a friend of, ‘bands’
read more The Female Journalist – Written Saturday 1st August 1999 (Aged 24)
in these moments
metaphorically i fall to the floor
dad died…
and found a saturday shaped door
read more Saturday Shaped Door – Written Tuesday 21st January 2020 (Aged 44)
thought i had dispensed of the past
if not in black plastic bags
at least to the back of the cupboard
to be reflected upon when i feel sad
read more Still Walking With the Past – Written Wednesday 26th August 1999 (Aged 24)
i am sitting here with your things
your paperwork, your wallet and phone
and i think about your life
its platform destinations
the timetables never kept to
the way you would roam as the likely suspect
read more Wallet and Phone – Written Tuesday 21st January 2020 (Aged 44)
so… quell down the real fire
close up those papers often red
clean up the dirty mugs
as engines gather one last time in the shed
the drinks are drunk,
all the levers have been pulled
and the points have been finally set
read more The Signal Box – Written Tuesday 21st January 2020 (Aged 44)
shock,
is a tangible state
just,
as i push my food around the plate
your ale is finally drunk
but i am left with the slate
read more Thursday Morning – Written Monday 20th January 2020 (Aged 44)
i looked at you as you lay there
you were making –
your way through deaths door
fumbling with the handle
having easily found the key
read more Could I Find the King of Hearts? – Written Monday 20th January 2020
