I've made a couple of my self published books free to download.
There's Amber Stars: One Night of Stories, which is my first book of linked stories and Remain Vigilant which is two one act plays in the same world. Lost in April Fog, my Napowrimo poems from 2018 was free before but I've offered direct links and removed the need to go through the shop. All are in PDF, Mobi (for Kindles) and ePub (for everything else).
All the books have now been changed to Creative Commons licences so feel free to distribute and remix...
We the spin, the shimmer.
We the sway, the light,
the contagion and the cure
We the anointing and
sometimes the penance.
We the living cosmos.
We who stockpile flocks
of wings in our hearts
and galaxies in our eyes.
We the sun on the river
in the morning. We, barely
glimpsed, we the golden
and the gentle, we the
shine and the reflection.
We the rare, the cruel
and the wonderful. We
the infinite and the brief.
We who have been searching
for millennia, in...
Forgive me, I have lost my lexicon
of the future. Now I search the tangled
entropy of brambles and bindweed.
Nothing useful emerges, only woodlice.
Clouds no longer spell out predictions,
don’t merge or drift into forgotten faces
or arrows, indicating the way forward.
These tea leaves do not show patterns,
just transmit random letters through
flecks settling in cups, stewed static.
I scry daily but my mind is a broken
telescope array. Like every person
now I stumble forward in ignorance.
I ask the stars for guidance. No reply.
The trick is never to let yourself believe it is pouring fully formed from your fingers into a submittable file. It’s all roughs. It’s layering. It’s starting with the six lines you had, that you foolishly believe constitute “an idea,” and editing them and adding to them and sculpting them and building on them and then realising it’s shit and saving that version, renaming the file and starting again, going back to where you went wrong and rewriting, until you feel like you have the shape of something that might...
From a review of Shabaka and the Ancestors in Crack magazine.
I joined a Facebook group 1 which has daily prompts. This one was written in response to the prompt: “How do you click: Write a poem filled with noise” poem.
It’s the first day of lockdown, a week of social distancing and I feel this is representative of me missing the buzz and hum of humans in general.
Days pass with the click of keys,
the confused mumblings of the wind,
unseen neighbours speaking, phrases
occasionally diffusing through walls.
Underneath, I still hear an echo-
many voices merged into a chorus.
I have a fancy new profile picture thanks to Sam Cavender and his restored Mayima. Oooh medium format expired film. It makes me want to dig out my film cameras again
It was taken after the Lyra Festival slam last Saturday. So only a week ago but it feels like forever. A lot has happened since then. There’s been so much rapid change to our way of life that time has expanded, so a day feels like a week and a week feels like a year.
I’m adapting best I can. I’m lucky...
This is the third story in a series I’m publishing monthly throughout 2020. More details here.
CW: Gun violence
Subject: What are you up to?
Hey, hope you’re not going too mad on the eleventh floor!
Just seen this- What crazy things are you up to up there with the nano-bots? Growing a new Prime Minister? LOL
Okay, everyone listen up. I’m about to drop some truth bombs like I do every week. Boom! Like that! See the thing...
So we’re socially isolated for the foreseeable. It’s a weird time, but I’ve been amazed by how people are being incredibly generous. There is so much kindness out there from everyone despite the uncertainty. Here are some things I’ve come across that you may enjoy while distancing from others that may help you feel connected or entertained.
It’s always nice getting a contributor copy, especially for something you would have purchased anyway. This little book flew over the Atlantic for me, I’m looking forward to reading it.
Social isolation means I’m working through the backlog of things I have to do. So I uploaded this video of my poem Encrypted, which was kindly shot by Chris at Bristol Tonic, one of the best nights around to encourage new writing.
Each month performers get given a prompt and are asked to make a piece in a month. My prompt was “Threw postcards in the shape of airplanes hoping they get to where they meant to.” That’s a great prompt.
I took it in some strange directions. Chris also helped me record an audio version of it which...
spring is like a perhaps
Hand in a window
and fro moving New and
people stare carefully
moving a perhaps
fraction of flower here placing
an inch of air there)and
without breaking anything.