Sometimes I write poems that are born for the stage, others are too shy. I think all poems have a performative quality, but I submit poems to publishers that require the quiet space of reading, and re-reading, which the page allows.  I have been lucky enough to have poems published on many different pages, including The Rialto, Magma, Popshot and The Morning Star.  Here is one of my poems, featured on The Poetry School website ...


I am carving your initials into my chest
shedding oak in your name, mahogany heavy.

I am beside you with skin like saw dust
skin is saw dust.

Neck braced with trunk, stiff – like the first time.
Burning bark under duvets.

For all the times we lay in silence thinking of walks,
of holding hands, unable to move, I am wooden and smell
of forest floor.

Close – next to you. So warm, so campfire,
here to burn my hairline splinters – good enough to frame.

My branches wilt at the core of you, small furnace –
my roots curl on your toes – my everlasting heat.