You have censored our holiday photographs I can see your breasts I can see your cunt I can see your arse On our nudist beach But you have censored the churches In the background With a black sweep marker

August is declining The nights are clear I watched your slow progress From the rise of Jane’s buttocks To the nape of her neck Before I drifted into sleep Yet even as I travelled In my deep hollow dreams I could see your illuminations Stage Left Stage Right Stage Centre

I can see two magpies in my garden They are watching the trains pass by This frightens and excites them at the same time There are fast trains at the end of my garden That pass my mesh fence at ridiculous speeds I have planted red blue and orange flowers near this fence So that […]

I have a beautiful garden but I know that it will decay Just as my beloved country is decaying before my eyes This saddens me as I am aware of the reasons why What are you doing Joe Writing a poem about the decay that surrounds us all Is it the usual pretentious crap Not […]

What is your name Riley Frank Are you related to Anne Frank She was my Great Aunt What inspired you to write a book about her Because I wanted to tell the truth There have many books written about Anne I agree and very good books too But they missed something very important What was […]

I live in a small Cornish village with my dog Rex It is a tranquil life born of silence and friendships I am an artist and often paint the sea and the harbour It is mostly a seasonal occupation As I travel during the cooler months But now I am changing these self imposed rules […]

I visited the Ramsgate Tunnels yesterday It was a very interesting experience Jane was on the constant look out for spiders Which do not alarm me at all as I am insect free However I did find something that worried me It was a small metal sign nailed into the chalk wall It read – […]

I had not even reached twenty and had not loved I had not travelled I had not written books This is my only serious poem Recorded in blood I had no argument with the enemy Yet others thought that this area of scrubland Was worth fighting for Yet they are alive Sitting on the coffins […]

Helen Lassiter was a trained opera singer Who sang under the name of Copper Beech She was quite popular but lived in obscurity Often wearing rags and goften clothes Helen lobed in a shack near Copper Beach And swam each morning no matter the weather To raise founds she would sing in front of charity […]

Angels in reverse Crowd The threatening skies I am counting The grey church towers Warning bells are about to toll Bring out your dead most of them have died the most memorable of deaths They were all filthy traitors And have died by my sword The scent of the night I will not close my […]