Stuart Miller-Osborne

I broke my leg whilst climbing recently I was flying for such a short time A matter of seconds/moments Yet I found it rather pleasurable And then I was punished My injury was straightforward but serious And I have been housebound ever since My cousins Dip and Doo have been popping in To ensure that […]

I have been told By people who loathe me That my poetry and fictions Resemble each other That is very true As they share the same mother I am their errant father Who spends a great deal of time In the fields rotating his crops

I hide in the long grass At the side of the road After night falls And watch The headlights of cars Come and go White Red Silver Orange Yet I only see a horizontal glare As all rabbits are colour blind

I love travelling overnight on European trains Here is a list in no particular order of my favourite things Arriving at continental railway stations late at night Finding your sleeping compartment and settling down Waking in the middle of the night Passing through sleeping towns Drinking coffee and watching the dawn Walking through the carriages […]

They found me in the tent I was near death And would have not Survived the night By chance a spotter plane Searching for two adventurers That had been reported missing Had spotted the tent And assumed that they had found The missing couple As I was delirious I made no sense But as soon […]

I felt that I had slept For a year When I awoke I found myself alone The maroon blanket was gone And also the shawl But more importantly The man and the woman Were no longer there I began to weep As I knew that I now occupied A hinterland Without boundaries

When I first saw the tent I could not believe my eyes A green tent in the middle of a desert And then I heard voices A man and a woman Slightly older than me Emerged from the tent The woman was holding The bottle of water That would save my life The man laid […]

I am trapped in a desert My jeep broke down And I looked for help It was a foolish mistake As I am slowly fading I think that with luck That I have a day left The white sands That surround me Are just endless I am lost

Joe is waiting for a bus In the pouring rain He is standing in front Of a derelict cinema It used to be a happy place But is no longer loved The roof leaks It has few windows It is slowly dying of neglect Joe is aware of this But does not care

It may surprise you to hear That I have been called A Visionary Poet I have no opinions about this Why should I have any thoughts As this was noted elsewhere