Stuart Miller-Osborne

Lolita stood by the entrance to the red cave Whilst Robert walked along the narrow grey path Towards her They had been married for fifteen years And both kept owls    

He kissed her roughly This was his last day In the coal mines Before they went to Amerika Under his arm There was a large silver jug He did not know Why he was carrying it   Taken from The Miner by Walter Richard Sickert    

When I was younger I watched a movie called Fuck Off Images of Finland It warned me that the presence of silk In the immune system Was hazardous to one’s health I have loved the Scandinavian country ever since    

Fresh faced not yet twenty You stand there modestly In your wedding dress A warm window breeze gently disturbs Your yellow bouquet But the decorative screen flowers stay still This is your day Remember this is your day   You are told by many But you know that the glitter leopards are not far away […]

On the far side of the dark hills there are a number of windswept trees that shield my cottage from the adjoining lane I was glad of the privacy afforded to me Although isolated my cottage is large It has five rooms and was once owned by a hill-farming family On the wall above my […]

Leonora K found herself sitting in her canvas director’s chair with her broken leg perched on a small wooden table It had been two weeks since her accident Her doctors had instructed her not to put weight on her injured limb This restricted her movement which she found frustrating She was reading a book It […]

When I was a child I published an imaginary newspaper Once a week My journal did not have a title But I devoted an increasing amount of time And column inches To the life and travels of Francisco Pizarro As autumn changed into summer My reports became more frequent For I was now travelling to […]

She sits in a formal yet relaxed pose in what appears to be an ornamental garden Her dress is casual, yet fashionable Almost Bohemian She smiles without passion Into the dull deep middle distance Which leads me to believe that only the hollow eyed rocks Will confuse the general reader   A photograph of a […]

As I watched Elsa-Elsa ride around the Wall of Death I noticed that a cage containing a small canary Was suspended from her neck When I questioned her motives She explained that she was a Motorcycle Performance Artist And that I was her audience    

We watched movies in cornfields And painted watercolours in busy cities Inspired by the enchanting light These were our quiet days of summer   Copies of this short poem have been attached to walls in Bath,Dover and Clichy