HOME

WRITING

KEYS TO THE CITY

I: A New Career In A New Town

II: Dream Life

III: Paintings As Prayers

IV: Late Summer Evening

POETRY

Rose Crowned Evenings

Moments Of Pure Ashtray

The Personalised Circus

Berlin Undressing

Blind Children On Western Streets

Lucifer Says He Won't See Me

Say

Absentee Note

Boy

Christmas Curtains

Fountains

July

Swans On The Surface

Girl Smoking On Balcony

Stained Glass Window

Terrible Vision

The Insurance Was WILD

The Sea's Smile

Van Gogh's Lights

The Disappointed Prince

SHORT STORIES

Tectonic Plates

Turkish Pizza

Cuddle Parties

A Night At The Circus

The Catch

Chekhov In Kreuzberg

A Stolen Dress

Two Contract Killers Get Arrested

My Uncle Dick

Death In The Cafe

Performing To The Curtain

Getting Past The Curtain

OTHER

La Traviata

Babylon Berlin

Living With Samuel Beckett:

An Anti Essay

MUSIC

CONTACT

TERRIBLE VISION

 

MAY 2016

Movement proved too irresistable for us;

Now we’re lying to ourselves, blindly tearing at each other,

Convulsing feverishly from greed and lust.

Just when we near union, near growth,

When we’re evidently closer to being One,

Establishing communication,

Awareness, almost musical in its innocent flurries of ignorance,

We realise we disgust each other,

This other person,

This unflattering mirrored mask,

A tragic reminder of one’s self,

Then, turning away from the believed avenue of illumination,

Of ecstacy, of fulfillment,

We turn off into a blackened forest,

A landscape of shadows,

A maze of unutterable dreams,

A complete nightmare,

We stand together, breathing warm and sultry air,

Cooing desperation into the world’s ear, into one another’s ears,

Inviting any interested demon in for the night;

Then we turn from each other,

Two glowing matches, dizzying flames fading as we go,

Two burning matches, taking shelter in light,

And waiting and needing that darkness