Stuart Miller-Osborne

I once dated a chap from Iceland Who told me that the arctic wastes Reminded him that God exists One is faced with a wilderness Yet it is full of love Josephine x

i am sitting in the foyer of the theatre apart from the front of house it is deathly quiet a gaggle of kids learning their craft break the silence they are giggling and energetic full of hope for the future but the future fades as it did for me i was one of those kids […]

I am sitting naled In his narrow armchaie I am watching the trains pass Three coffes struggle fpr space At my feet warmth arnona pleezes me I can small gis habd on my cunt Although he has gone to work My bush feels sticky matter hair I needed a bath an hour ago The only […]

I am aware of what Joe is doing He is healing me Joe is a healer I know that I am unwell Joe is the poet But my poetry Is the equal of his And he welcomes it He has brought me to Italy A country he knows well I am on his journey He […]

I take photographs of webcams From all around the world As they interest me greatly I see faces and situations When ascending the stairs My porcelain dolls remain On your wooden shelf

Valley upon valley of these monsters slaughtered What an amazing site beholds my eye You have two choices Sarrio A sword or a gun Each will finish you I pulled out a pistol And shot the commandant in the eye His head exploded Blood ran down the walls I Am Sarrio Never forget that name […]

What did you think of the movie That it was totally nuts With a title like that you would have expected A soft core skin flic but it was very pure it was the classical music that really got me OTTOTTOTTOTTOTTOTT Very much This was typical of Italian Cinema In the 1970s It was so […]

You have two choices Sarrio My name is Micheal A sword or a gun Each will finish you I pulled out a pistol And shot the commandant in the eye His head exploded Blood ran down the walls of his office I Am Sarrio Never forget that name

An affluent white couple Have ordered their lunch It is brought to them By an islander Dark of skin Nothing has really changed That is the order of things

Why are there no rainbows over Keighley Joe Because the skies are dark Why are there no rainbows over Haworth Joe Because the skies are corrupt I wrote this in my notebook When travelling in Yorkshire When asked why I answered That my pen was as honest As my brothers sad empty eyes