Friday, November 2, 2012

Spring 2012

“You’re frayed at the edges”,

She let me know,

A return scene from the vaults;

One I’ve already been told.

We wondered, perhaps, if there was more to life than this.

Yet, as we thought in silence, we determined that this must be it.

There was a dull acceptance,

As your hand drew back,

Displaying a blushed realisation

In all the comforts I lacked.

Turning on a heel, words splashed from someone’s lips,

Moistening your smile as you savoured a fresh mix.

Let’s tell them they’re wrong

That It’s all in their heads.

But I knew I’d been mislaid

From what others had said.

She was at once so bright, the same when we’d all left.

Yet away from the beams, she seemed dimmed, bereft.

I can succeed with identity,

A sentiment revealed,

Yet as you told me later

“I won’t understand how you feel”.

So as the evening died down, behind a maroon chimney terrace

You lay your hand on my thigh and the warmth began to focus.

Wednesday, October 31, 2012
I miss Glasgow, and my bud David. The uni, not so much…

I miss Glasgow, and my bud David. The uni, not so much…

Friday, August 17, 2012


It is hard to believe the light that comes from your eyes.

Or the height that comes just from my hair

Either from sleeping on it weird or from that terrifying scare.

The scare that came with the pleasure of our current situation

And the discomfort I get from the inevitable changes.


But that’s awrite because on your soft earlobes are pearls

And they make you look like someone classy from a black&white film.

Like Audrey Hepburn in your black three-quarter length pants

Or a young Ava Gardner when you dance in your bra.

And when you smoulder in the kitchen with your hands turned on your hip

With a look slightly lewd trying to match her pouted lips.

I let out dumb laugh, which I find falls mainly in my eyes –

As they seem to be the most honest tool (I have) for sharing this life. 

Monday, August 13, 2012

Glasgow Nature

I’m very sad to think that, for now, this will be my last week living in Glasgow. I’ve spent four years living here in total, with three spent in the same flat. I’ve become very fond of my flat (and Glasgow itself) in these three years which have been a constant and comforting backdrop to my university career. I realise that no doubt I’m viewing my time here with rose-tinted specs as it wasn’t always that fun or easy all of the time, but it has for sure been an important stage in some sort of progression. 

I’m aware that I will miss the places, the environment, and the nice people I’ve met here, but it is also important to remember the feelings of apprehension I had about coming here in the first place. Hopefully that means that in two years I will feel the same fondness for another city and will have had an equally happy time there. 

I am aware this sounds like I’m dying, I’m not, I’m just moving down the road to Newcastle. Don’t say that’s the same thing…

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Early Summer

I went on a trip to the Andalucia region of Spain this summer. I was there from late May to early June. It’s funny how long ago that seems now.

One of the best bits of the trip was lying on the beach in Cadiz with my gerlfrund. I was eating some cherries and enjoying a bit in “A Moveable Feast”, Hemingway’s notes on his time in Paris. He was describing how F. Scott Fitzgerald had come to him upset due to the fact he had a tiny penis.

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Art Afternoon

The frequent visiting birds of the season

Suggest I’m made from a tougher spice

Like mace or cardamom.

You, we all agree, are cinnamon; sweetened.


Looking down Queen Street we find an answer

To an afternoon slightly light on a sense of culture.

And like the visiting bird, who is now a vulture,

We peruse the GoMA for artistic thoughts

Stretched Conceptually further.


Together we count the number of cunts and pricks

Concealed in a poster, next to a Boyle Family street front.

But we are equally keen to draw from one another

To help establish once and for all,

Whether its the level of enjoyment in the art present,

Or the disdain in the Glasgow rain, which is keeping us indoors.

Sunday, July 1, 2012
Erotic bum man

Erotic bum man

Old Age

I’m making fresh stock and listening to 5live on a Sunday. Where did my youth go?

Monday, June 25, 2012 Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Meals with thrills

Meals with thrills