I am a writer. I am shy. I started writing poetry in my youth. I first performed in 1987 at the Avon Poetry Festival along side Bertel Martin of the Bristol Black Writers Workshop, supporting Benjamin Zephaniah.I gave my last poetry performance in 1992 at the Arnolfini gallery Bristol, supporting Labi Siffre during Poetry month.In 1998 for a year, I became the Resident Poet at Bristol Evening Post.I haven't written much since then but in 2014 I began exercising my rusty hand writing sonnets. I hope to continue writing in the coming year.
A silence on the night. The day fluttered quietly in whisper soft resonance, So many colours slowly dying Like confetti in the rain, And echoes touched each other, a reunion of themselves, As though they were astounded At their resonating
The moral dilemma was unlearning. less than truth. Downgrading the- branded witch. Vaccine was spawning new virus. O Buddha, why did you started looking beautiful and began sitting in a living room? Trailing the smoke I was going to find
(as imagined by this lumpenproletariat) When no bigger then innocuous, ho hum, happy go lucky generic black whole sonny and cher full pinhead size zit, thine pluperfect promising mysterious seat of pants whodunnit wordlessly wise wedded waywardness writ partly apportioned,
Addiction to harmless Is accepted Addiction to harmful Is not advisable Addiction is submission Which involves Imaginations Addition is Pollution Which involves Revolution Addition is attraction Which involves Affection Addition is a fiction Which involves Correction Addition is a caution