Stuart Miller-Osborne

Dear Mummy I chose the short straw yet again And have had to wait in for the electrician And to pass the time I have been watching Twilight (which is a movie that you probably have never heard of) There is a scene early on When Edward saves Bella from a certain death By using […]

I used to chat to a Lebanese girl In the convenience store Only small talk and nothing else And then she was not there I learned later that she had killed herself Which made me sad I made enquires But realised no information She had faded into history Without even a final breath I later […]

The volcano is so beautiful It brings me such joy Especially at night To see it glowing in the distance Red orange yellow and gold It would not be so romantic If it released a pyroclastic surge The turbulent gasses Would kill you instantly You are the least romantic person I know I count many […]

Viktoria returned from the land of self healing With four self healing stones Limonite Quartz Labradorite and Pyrolusite These were gifts for Gilbert Who was rather sad

Francis Bacon painted my late mother Which was a great honour As she had missed the last bus Francis Bacon painted my mother Which was a great honour Until she spoiled our new settee Francis Bacon painted my mother Which was a great honour But it stained the garden furniture Silly Boy

You never change your reflections They are always green and yellow These are my only kitchen cloths I choose only these bright colours Many years ago when at night school I became friendly with a refugee and her sister They asked me to enter into an illegal marriage A marriage of convenience which I turned […]

With my headlights dipped You are sitting next to me We are sharing an ageing bourbon Ghosts roam without illumination I can sense them beside me As we speed through the night

Our second home was tranquil Even though its position was exposed None of our windows were covered As we liked to live with the sea To the side of the steps that led to the beach Was our small swimming pool and assorted chairs We called this swimming pool La Petite Mer Or the Sea […]

At first I thought I had imagined it But it was not my imagination Three short clicks equally spaced It was the same message Are revolutions composed Or are they spontaneous I spent the afternoon Watching my aunt showering I liked her perfumed soap She asked me the same question When a country runs out […]

I sat on the path For only a short Space of time Nobody stopped for me A mysterious passenger Changed cars erratically And then vanished Only the lonely bus stop Remained constant In the wooden shelter A beer glass Slowly gathered dust Cars belong On the road Boats belong In the desert