Poems written by Andrew H Hems

Profile photo of Andrew H Hems

About Andrew H Hems

I have a few talents at any given moment, so I tend to go off on a tangent.  Music, photography and poetry are my main loves, as well as my lady of course x

Benylin

Benylin short poem

I took a good few Viscous glugs, that Night. My mother’s breakdown Was getting to me and My pity was destroying Me from the intestines, up. Couldn’t be Christian guilt, Surely? But I felt good again – Her wringing hands

A Bridge

A Bridge long poem

I approach the 160° turn to the left, The public toilets, still there. Those strange, Striped warning poles and a sign in Old engineering font (like London Underground, but rusted) saying ‘STOP WHEN BELL RINGS’. Up its gentle elevation to

Willow Tree

Willow Tree short poem

The years in front are Now shorter than the Ones behind. I lay awake At night, wondering how It will end. It will be sudden, Or not sudden, obviously. A long decline into madness? That’ll do me. Loss of hair,

Wired

Wired prose poem

The cough syrup and amphetamine Don’t seem to mix, in nineteen-ninety Six, and I throw up in the Communal showers, from Impurities. The sight Of the silver fish helped. Tony, in room eight, no longer Around. Dragged his corpse From