Poems written by Andrew Darlington

Andrew Darlington

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By way of introduction, I’ve had masses of material published in all manner of strange and obscure places, magazines, websites, anthologies and books. I’ve also worked as a Stand-Up Poet on the ‘Alternative Cabaret Circuit’, and I’ve interviewed very many people from the worlds of Literature, SF-Fantasy, Art and Rock-Music for a variety of publications (a selection of my favourite interviews collected into the recent ‘Headpress’ book ‘I WAS ELVIS PRESLEY’S BASTARD LOVE-CHILD’). My latest book is ‘DON'T CALL ME NIGGER, WHITEY: SLY STONE & BLACK POWER’. I look forward to your feedback...ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE IS NO MATCH FOR NATURAL STUPIDITY!!! Check out my website ‘EIGHT MILES HIGHER’ – ‘The Blogspot for People Who Don’t Like Blogspots’ – latest postings include ‘Music From Sheffield: The Box’ interviews/history, Kurt Vonnegut 1983 interview, full Bill Nelson interview-live/album review-discog retrospective with rare archive art, ‘The Lost Worlds Of Arthur Conan Doyle: His SF, Fantasy & Horror’, Neil Sedaka Live, Elvis: My Visit To Graceland & Sun Studios with photos, ‘Rogue Moon’ by Algis Budrys – history & analysis, Cassandra Complex 1988 interview, and more… monthly updates at http://andrewdarlington.blogspot.com

Journeys Without Maps

Journeys Without Maps short poem

JOURNEYS WITHOUT MAPS/ AFTER FIGUERAS, CATALUNYA when seawind blows it spins the moons, fills lunar curves in golden masks that revolve above the ornate faces of the harbour clock when the seawind blows and moons revolve wind-fed wheels feed and

Girl On Westgate

Girl On Westgate short poem

GIRL ON WESTGATE/ FANCY AND IMAGINATION from the coach-window I see the girl on the city-kerb eating the orange ice-pop, hair fanning in the breeze, the centre of her own continuum, catching the smear of exhaust tasting the sharpness of

Winterlude

Winterlude short poem

Winterlude From November to March winter-green and winter-grey for all the things you never say, winter-silver and winter-gold for all the secrets left untold, winter-snow and winter-frost counting all the thing we’ve lost, winter-love and winter-pain washed away in freezing

Theoretical Love Poems

Theoretical Love Poems short poem

(with words borrowed from Cyril M Kornbluth) in molten silver beyond reckoning you watch clouds float beneath your eyelids your tongue crushes grapes until they pour gold and you forever taste the song of peacocks making melodies for the morning

Glass

Glass short poem

the first is touch losing touch sense of touch losing softness losing abrasions… in dark amputation… this is how it was, my mother did not die, just detached, gradually less tenuously linked to life, until there was no link… now