Stuart Miller-Osborne

This is such a beautiful shell Undamaged by the storm It has retained its pale colour But is deeply troubled

What made you want to go into space Major Tom Why are you the sole commander of this mission Knowing that we might never return Think of the French Foreign Legion Luke Most of the people that I have ever met Who have served with the French Foreign Legion Were running away from from something […]

Whilst in Spain I attended a concert With Gloria Phil and Kev I knew the music very well Rodrigo’s Conceirto de Aranjuez What I did not know Was that in the brass world This piece is known as Orange Juice It was the last thing that Gloria Said to me before she boarded her train

My husband returned from Bulgaria today He had been away on business We shared a bath soon after As he needed to bury his journey Vincent returned with a present As he always does when he travels My only rule is that these gifts Must be purchased from airport shops Today he gave me a […]

You said that you wrote poetry Miriam I do What type of poetry The poetry of my cunt Is it good That is for you to find out Have you ever been published (she laughs) I have never been asked that question Can I read some of your work If you wish Look at the […]

Whilst I played in various outfield positions I was considered a goalkeeper And played there for a number of years The strange thing was that when outfield I received a variety of red and yellow cards But as a goalkeeper I was neither booked or sent off Although I ran this close on a few […]

Today I paid homage To the missing sun The sky was quite empty And for the first time I felt completely alone

Juliette and I watched the destruction Of our childhood years Whilst on summer walks Collecting sad shells It was during this period of my life That I decided to become a submarine

During the war Many of our local churches Were destroyed By The Sleeping Albert I was in a relationship With his sister Juliette Who was very boyish Flat chested and tall

I have always loved The decaying splendour Of autumn leaves Yet prefer the brittleness Of these harsh winter days