Stuart Miller-Osborne

A blue hue had descended Over the concert hall A small gap began to appear But it was not noticed by anyone As only Sally could see the light

Forgave Betty on the morning Of her triple birth Love will tear us apart She whispered as she crossed The bridge now grey in the snow

Tirzah and Theresa Lived in Terracotta Rooms Above Teddington Terrace They frequently wore Terracotta Tunics Fringed with Silk

When I was released from prison I caught a train directly to Bison As I needed to see your soft face You had refused to see me in my cell Because I had been wrongly convicted For writing an essay about nothing new

I shared a flat with three sisters Who all loved me as a brother We thrived as we all loved film posters Ours was a free but platonic existence Which surprised all of those who visited us On my wall I hung the movie posters From Zabriskie Point to Easy Rider As I longed to…

He had dreams of growing  Hundreds of olive trees In the shadows Of our volcano

It is the seven string lyre of Apollo  An instrument that heals  Antiquity suggests that therapy  Was done using music 

Eith lived in Amsterdam in a top floor flat  Which overlooked one of the many canals  I often stayed in the flat in a small room That was totally dominated by a movie poster  Although slightly torn it was an impressive addition  That brightened up the tedium of the walls   

Leslie Van Houghton Wrote these words In his battered diary Just before he was killed The powerful play Are there any complaints I gave his diary to Lynda When I visited her She returned it to me A few months later And noted that I had shared this part Of his life and death And…

Is a paradise lost I had carved Proust Into the butt of my rifle If nothing else It made sense of the slaughter I had once loved my country But I feel almost nothing now Soldiers no longer smiled Except when dead They returned in coffins Covered in thin false flags