Stuart Miller-Osborne

This is where his car crashed He took the roundabout at speed But never made it past the trees If you look closely you can see The scars of the accident In the partially hidden copse Mike West owned ICWLA And had doubled its profits In the previous trading year He was returning from a…

I have a Finnish mother And a Finnish father I could not be more Finnish In my colouring and my looks I have a Finnish mother And an African father I could not be more Finnish In my colouring and my looks I agree and do not agree As like me you are Finnish Your…

For many years my best friend From our school days Had a souvenir shack On the side of a volcano When I asked her why With all the inherent dangers Of its exposed location That she took such a risk She said in a hushed whisper Volcanoes Kill Hope

I have just found an exciting coffee Unlike any other known coffee It is called Touching Taylor And was first discovered In a shop in Saigon Which has been owned By the same family Since the late twenties There is I feel a French influence To its bitter yet soft taste When I see you…

When I moved into my flat I found a Gauguin poster Hanging from a bare wall Honorée was my girlfriend At this troubled time in my life I had just lost my adored mother And in an effort sooth the pain I often asked her to strike A similar pose on my bed I imagined…

I feel dead at the moment My spirits are very low It is a predictable season

Areopagitica is a 1644 prose polemic by the English poet, scholar, and polemical author John Milton opposing the 1643 Licencing Order which had re-introduced censorship of books during the First English Civil War  Areopagitica is among history’s most influential and impassioned philosophical defences of the principle of a right to freedom of speech and expression Many of its expressed principles have…

From the window of my cell I can see the hillside cars Going up and then returning From the summit of Kolas Pan I have no bars on the windows Nor is my door securely locked One of my guards has been very kind John Milton’s Areopagitica was my gift

It had rained overnight The air was still humid There was not even The gift of a light breeze

As the zero year drew to a close I chose to sit in a thinning field Of late sunflowers