January 2012
1 post
A Number of Black Dots
We picked em outta the ocean black specks they were strange seeds from the edge of the earth   slippery, they were, and cheeky we grasped their husks and flipped em up hup hup juggled them into our boats   on land they aint as nimble and a sort of motherliness came over us we handled them gently one to another warm scaly eggs crinkly and gulping in a helpless way   planted, they seemed quite at...
Jan 7th
September 2011
2 posts
Venice
Tack tack tack, sails billowing At the seams, protesting cheeks of a pufferfish, tendonous. Anchor, collier collier collier fashion down the Thames Under topsails that deflate and warp, deflate, warp. A slow start for a first voyage on the Miriam. - Thirteen and a half, he stands at the bow, Face to sea. Like smoke meeting ceiling, The water always presses, always unpeeling, The fat,...
Sep 17th
A Dream Of Second Sight
when I feel it coming on before I fall asleep Temple-tapped and shaken; (they call me Staithes Nell dear.) Like water in my ear. I feel, like bleak cold cliffs, the fear.  - when I get slowed and throwed, god headed, pour me up Through the tumultuous black they call the sea I am writhing, only, in the damp sheets of my shoreline bricks And slate. My dreams, they call it strange powers, They call...
Sep 8th
August 2011
1 post
The Captain
So, I’m writing a sequence of poems with the provisional title of “The Captain.” I’ve written the first one so far. It’s called “The Theory.” I. The Theory I have always held the theory, and still stick to it, that a sailor, like a poet, is born, and not made. And the father and the grandfather and the five sons of Scarborough “sailor born” if that means ships were his...
Aug 8th
2 notes
May 2011
2 posts
The Walk Home
A petrol rainbow yawns around your shoe and rain glistens down leaves, like fireflies. Some snowdrops in a garden bow their heads with no advice to pass. Car headlights. A crocus burns out in violet before it can reach the sky.   And then, uninvited, happiness creeps in under the draught excluders, bypassed By the snoozing cat. It quietly cuts the pain from the photos on your shelf, Draining the...
May 25th
My poetry is featured on the online magazine... →
May 2nd
April 2011
2 posts
Phantom Island
Like a phantom island I drew you out on my map. When I was young and naive, I tacked down your dimensions. I gave you a position and boundaries that never existed and if they did, they’ve long since been destroyed.
Apr 11th
Snapshot (final draft)
When the mall closes at the end of the day, I watch as the final shoppers drag their bulging bags and aching feet out of the glass doors. The sounds of the shoes squeaking on tiles, coughing, laughing and the endless gurgle of conversation empty from the halls like liquid poured out of a glass. A few drops remain. The cleaners polish the last of the echoing shiny floors and finish the last cheeky...
Apr 5th
1 note
March 2011
9 posts
Holiday Snap
Two bright blonde heads, brother, sister. Sun-bleached. Pear drops in grinning cheeks. My teeth still ache. I remember a swimming pool, a beach, A chalky, beige grassed field. Dust at daybreak. And the fear. (There are sharks behind those grates! Said my brother with a covert grin.) He taught me To fish. Well, he tried. With balled fists he waits Out my fumbling and quiet dread of the Bumpy...
Mar 28th
3 tags
Blackhole
”Technological progress has merely provided us with more efficient means for going backwards.” - Aldous Huxley                 Your brother was really interested in physics as a kid. At one point it was almost an obsession, one summer obsession. One hot summer, your wild enthusiasm for water fights and paddling pools meant nothing to him, as long as he could read his books about space...
Mar 27th
3 tags
Engagement Party
I kicked over a glass of red wine yesterday. The streak of red on cream was met with silence Rather than yelling. Even worse. Yesterday it sat, sad and ashamed, Soaking through the house’s supply of salt. But today, it’s lilac stain matches The co-ordinated engagement banner and balloons.   The rooms are filled with the silence of food. Crisps await their rustling. A fat honey-roasted ham Proud...
Mar 25th
3 tags
Electra
Alison started going to Saturday morning drama classes when she was nine. Her mum probably thought it was a good way for her to make some friends. They were held in the attic of a small theatre. The low-ceilinged room was bustling with props and costumes, hardly hidden by a dull green curtain. Small windows let in usual grey Saturday morning light as the class sat in a circle around the...
Mar 22nd
3 tags
Going Bad
My double bed is full of mould. Imagine, slowly tearing back the covers, Mosses and minute hairs unhook with a lisp. Organic warmth escapes into the cold. Snuggle, deep down into Old skin, soft green mushrooms, fur with a crisp. - My double bed is full of mould. Lie down, always on the right hand side, Curled like a fern. And my dreams of you trickle out of my ear and unfold. Nestle, head sinking...
Mar 22nd
3 tags
The Beach At Night
“who built/So spacious, and his Line stretcht out so farr;/ That Man may know he dwells not in his own…” Rafael, Paradise Lost From the dunes to the shore his eyes adjust almost immediately. Blackness blinks like a negative and collects into impressions of light. A sheet of glass slides silently over the sand, cut harshly at the edges, transparency betraying its crystal interior. He stands...
Mar 18th
3 tags
Dyeing
We measure out 250 grams of salt. It shuffles out of the nib in a hurry and we trill in anticipation as it sullies out of the scale pan into the sink of hot water. Cloudy paste like grasshopper spit. I grasp an old wooden spoon and trundle the water under our sunny eyes and the mists clear. A friend once told me, the small things in life are the ones that give you the most joy. The...
Mar 11th
3 tags
Leap of Faith
Draw your attention now to the most beautiful part. Forget what you’ve heard it’s not the eyes it’s not the heart it’s not the giggling size of the unspeakable part. That upturn beneath the nose where skin turns to lip. An inverted young strawberry, pitted with stubble seeds. A perfect panel for the little finger as I emit a quiet hushhhhh. A soft tunnel from the nose into the dip of...
Mar 3rd
2 tags
Grandad's Dream
Curious. Windscreen wipers Always chugging through your eyeline. Arcs of borrowed streetlamp light. A sepia rainbow, saturn’s rings painted and repainted By black robot arms. That light caught in lines The same way it is caught by a stray spiderweb In the sky. They say that stuff is stronger than steel, They must be right - the sun tightrope walking across its wavering length. Threatening to...
Mar 1st
February 2011
2 posts
2 tags
The Marmite Ring
For Laura and Sam on their wedding day.   The smell of marmite reminds me of a sister In a nightie at the breakfast table, hair tucked behind her ears. A brother grunting sleepily into his cereal. Dad is wearing his tennis shoes which are never free of sand. Mum is mushing a banana into precise amounts of sugar. My sister says it’s divine. With a glass of orange juice, perfect.   And so,...
Feb 17th
2 tags
Evelyn and The Incident
The end of a cigarette falls from her hand and drops onto the carpet. It rolls, damp and smokeless, until it hits the side of a dirty mug half-filled with tea.   Evelyn stands at the sash window, her hand held out motionless, still holding a phantom cigarette to her open lips. Dawn light stretches into the room in a thin line between the curtains. Faint straw light falls across one side of...
Feb 12th
January 2011
11 posts
1 tag
Autumn
By the time autumn really gets started, it’s already ended It pulls itself to earth in mourning robes of orange butterscotch and gold It yawns, shakes itself in the darkening wind, and strips itself down We roll out of each other’s arms when sleep comes. As autumn loses itself in morning mists I wake up to find you have left a neatly folded towel in my chair Strict angles remind me of...
Jan 29th
1 tag
The Lost Yorkshire Pudding Fork
Sunday at grandma’s again. I am horizontal and into a curve of glass my head is raised. I look up into the circling universe above. Water begins to gush into the bowl, Detergent is released and I am an astronaut spinning through a galaxy of dazed   Bubbles and the chug chug of clothes. A sock finds safe refuge in the hole Of a jean pocket. Fragile scarf is whisked like cream and tendrils of...
Jan 22nd
1 tag
Fear of Flying
“there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” - That which is most beautiful Is that which is closest to death. Shall I attempt for one Whipped cream dream to touch the clouds As I fall to the pitch of a flipped heart gripped In the essence of the essence of fear. And I’ll bet you’ve never felt fear Like I’ve felt fear. Because I have mastered it. And it feels better than...
Jan 20th
1 tag
Echo Chamber, Part Three
Pinning back the creases, what remains now is The echo chamber. He likes the echo chamber. It’s his favourite part of the temple. He takes one balled fist, Thumps his chest and says: “Here we bang our sorrows out.”   Whatever sound can your mouth and your flapping tongue make? It will all be met with the sullen silence of stone. The snub of moss. Calm your tongue for once; it’s a useless...
Jan 19th
1 tag
Echo Chamber, Part Two
I leave. Release so violent - Lightening resounds from me, Or white blood-rush? Or retreating rabbit tails? Little brittle grass blades Black and ice and burnt light. Violent release. Misted vision - Or something caught in my eye? Or little brittle tears? Trees greyscale to womb sky. I am the lake watching Her peering in. I am flawless silence. I am the sky, stars are mine What would...
Jan 17th
1 tag
Echo Chamber, Part One
And the white ball is following the red one into the hole again slipping without sound into the net, just as it always has. And the girls are shivering under cigarette gloom and the boys are drinking their purple-blooded snakebites and we’re using the neon to forget the half-light that won’t stay out the room. The bar maid is leaning over to hear the dirty chat up line and toga-clad rugby...
Jan 16th
thiszineisaspaceship asked: thank you very much for the submission. we will let you know if you've been selected sometime in february. if not, please try again. we love your stuff.

cheers,
the editors
Jan 14th
1 tag
You and Me and Sunday
Sunday promised us pancakes. Pancakes for breakfast. The kind of words they write between brackets in Hollywood. Cafe waitress with flamingo hair spills orange juice into the maple syrup. We are forgiving smiles with bleary Sunday eyes, and a man in the courtyard is already Sucking on a g&t cucumber chunk. We are stacked and dripping, saluting America with our hamster cheeks and forks Pronged...
Jan 13th
1 tag
Einstein's Compass
He trembled and grew cold at the findings, As he watched, age five, the needle heave toward the pole, “Something deeply hidden had to be behind things.”   He built a house of cards with fourteen stories Mastering Euclid, complete algebra control, Something deeply hidden had to be behind things.   To ride a beam of light, the drawings, the cravings, To find that dreadful cat, dead, through the...
Jan 12th
1 tag
Blood Tests
Gush me into a tube, half- Yorkshire, like my tea. My vein says hello, I’ve never felt you there before. It pleasingly opens its gullet to fill the vial. You talk to me of the weather. I try to speak but now its mouth is wide and You’ve really opened the flood gates and blood is the colour of lips wet at cigarettes, that birthday balloon you let slip as a kid and wondered when it’d hit the...
Jan 12th
1 tag
Birdless
We built the car park and industrial estate but still they come Despite the mess we make, movement like light from a quivering mirror   Always present if you bother to look, but untouchable. A flutter as you put your hand on the door. Only remnants: a gem blue egg, a feather   Their bodies crack into wings that meet at the tips like last-kiss lips, barely daring to touch   Virginal white...
Jan 12th