Stuart Miller-Osborne

Three drunks were stretched out on the city beach The day was done but nobody had bothered to tell the sun Whose glare was still light tight and intense Mac who was the youngest of the three men Was staring at the sun through his Buddy Holly glasses Which had been given to him by […]

Poussière Poussière bleue Poussière blanche Poussière rouge   Je conserve toujours votre poussière mémorable Sur mes bottes d’escalade rugueuses   Chère Marianne

Dust Blue Dust White Dust Red Dust   I still retain your memorable dust On my rough climbing boots   Dear Marianne

I woke up this mornings dawning And looked out of my window As it was snowing Snowing Snow is quite rare In coastal towns As the sea Does not trust the snow To settle quietly Without causing unhappiness

Some people think that I am a bitch But I am nothing of the sort I just know my own mind Unlike other bitches   Switch Bitch I am a bitch Just a bitch Nothing else My favourite bitch In history was Joan of Arc I will not reveal The reason why As I do […]

I was lying in bed bed with my cousin Morag An unusual arrangement But this was only a dream And unusual things happen in dreams The harsh henry winds were battering the frail windows Of the cottage but they were quite regular And not to be feared as some northerly winds are Later in the […]

The houses on the avenue Were huddled together As if for warmth   I walking towards the beach Enjoying the darkness Of the fading day      

the wind was so cruel as it ice whipped the sea spray against my face

                An intellectual says a simple thing in a hard way An artist says a hard thing in a simple way Charles Bukowski

Cold canoes in a frozen harbour If I say that I am a cunt then it will save you reading my poems I would ring him but he is dead I love Jesus more than life itself but he does not answer my calls Any cunt can write poetry but it takes a genius to […]