Stuart Miller-Osborne

He seeks the God particle In the vending machine But finds only coffee In his ship of despair (No confirmation required)

in nat re there is no  ensorship so why in a dem    cy do we censo  wor and      s this is a       for concern in nature   ere is no censorship so why in a democracy       censor words  nd ima es this is a cause for con   n in nature there is no censorship    why in […]

I can see you on the roads that vanish into trees and from beneath we will travel into the change estates of your great colour which have seasoned my skies of eternal eloquence.   Taken from the memorial of John and Harriot Russell in Marlborough Wiltshire

Allan James, son of the Rev J Allen, Stradbroke, Suffolk, Born March 23 1830 ; left Midsummer 1848 The white heat will not ripen the seeds It will only scorch them Tuckwell, David Gregorie, son of the late W.Tuckwell, Esq.,Oxford Born March 11,1838; left Christmas 1849 The birds will eat their porous meals Let us […]

Miss Salmons Diary As your underskirts scorched you taught my pupils with your heated chalk yet the sea contained no ash   White Nothe As the smugglers search for their zigzag paths (I am already hidden) and await their bounty which I will share with you   The Great Slip I have no interest in […]

The tropical air had covered the city for over a month. It was not a condition that anyone celebrated. Although lightly attired in contrast to the severe winters, people had began to grow tired. Whilst the air was warm it was also very moist and each day was interrupted by showers often quite severe. In […]

is trapped on the ledge of a demolished building I have noted its dilemma

They do not enter the field but are joined at the tail before they commence their final journey     Neither the cat or the snake can enter paradise as they did not weep at the death of Buddha

As the lost moth hovered clinging to its final day it saw as it died in the light of a wind lined sun a man in a velvet suit catch the night train he travelled as always with the hum wires and ate of white food watching the lead castles silent in their icy loneliness. […]

The troubled dawn had drawn its veil on the day as a child smoothed the silks of eternity. it was his journey she knew through the softness of her future years.   Francis Thompson died at dawn on November 13 1907. This poem imagines one of the children (now grown) he composed poems about, standing […]