Hey guys!

First off, let me thank you all for liking my work and following the blog! It’s really appreciated and keeps me pushing on!

Now, down to business. As you may have noticed, the URL for this blog doesn’t really say what this blog is or does. So, I’ve created a new blog for my poetry work, and I’ll be updating it with new and unpublished work over the next few weeks. It’d be grand if you could follow me over there!

Outside of the internets, I’m still working on my second book of poetry, Archetypical. At the moment, I’m trying to iron out a few design ideas with a great artist.

I’ve been mega-busy assisting with events in Lincoln like the WORD theatre  and The ATG Slam. But, over the Chrismas period I’ll have plenty of time to keep stuff updated and provide new content!

So, yeah. Thanks again guys. Pop over to the new blog if you feel like it and maybe put one of these in someone’s stocking 😀

Peace and Love,



My poisoned pens
are poised and pointed at me
Because I fail people
more than frequently
I let bullshit
from the worst parts of my brain
the critic, the bully, the boss
get fully in the way
I can’t connect in the way
that I should
I can’t connect in the way
I wish I would
Cos that ‘I’
is always in the way
The ‘I’ filled with self doubt
self-hatred and dismay
He blocks the view
of a needful you
and I became a mouthpiece
who can’t offer any peace
because this brain is masturbatory
same old ‘fuck me’ story
there is a game I play
where I try to make myself okay
But it all ends in a big come down
mania always ends in a frown
As the dip and drop kicks in
and I run out of serotonin
hold for the peaks, I declare
but that’s not a view I can share
as drown in inches of water
not propping myself up like I oughta
cos villain is an easy role
when you don’t believe you have a soul

Recurrence pains me

circling back around

Same old

Same old


Everything changes

but it changes back

All revolutions

are cyclical


In nature

Seasons change

and revert

back to type


The wheel spins

I needs to

touch ground

to move forward


It needs a chassis

it needs an engine

it needs a driver

to travel


Or else

it just spins

in place

static motion


Pretty to watch

but getting nowhere

and getting there



Narrative Paradigm

A good story beats a good argument
A coherent story augments perception
A false hero’s journey is pleasing
A simulated beginning, middle and end
A degraded facsimile, an optical illusion
The Logos replaced by the mythos

We are fundamentally shaped by narratives
Adjectives become objective
Labels applied define us
Jobs, hobbies, mental status
Others seek to define us
Within their frameworks

But we are bigger than their frames
We are more than stories
The narrative paradigm
Can be shifted


Here comes

the white knight,

valiantly defending

my honour.


I must be defended

at all times.


From women,

demanding fair treatment.

From any legitimate grievance.

From any critique.


I don’t know how

I would have survived

without a HIMetically sealed

echo chamber.


One that takes any discussion

of female suffering

and reduces it

to semantic arguments…


about the term ‘men’.


It NEEDS a preface!

‘SOME men’!!

‘NOT ALL men’!!!

‘BAD men’!!!!


Because I might

take it personally!


God forbid

I look honestly

at myself,

at my brethren.



men aren’t perfect.


masculinity is a fucking joke.

At everyone’s expense.


women conversing doesn’t need a defence of men.


men don’t need it.


we could listen.


could not squeeze into a conversation and argue for men.


women have a fucking point.


‘men’ and ‘being a man’ is a fucking problem.


you don’t need that definition.


you could be a ‘person’.


Women are people.

All Women are people.


Not some.


Why would I

want to be a ‘man’?

When I could be

a person.


Turn your steed around

White Knight.

We don’t need

your kind of chivalry.


I see behind your eyes
I hear behind your ears
I think behind your brain
I chew behind your teeth
I speak behind your lips
I plan behind your back
I walk behind your feet
I exist behind you
In the light I am cast away
turn from it and we are one
In the dark I am everywhere
no escape from it, we are one
I am the pain behind your eyes
I am the anger behind your words
I am the hatred behind your reflection
I am the beast behind your self
I am the shadow behind you
I am the shadow
I am behind you
I am you behind the shadow
Without you
There is no me
We will always be
Always be we


A spark in the void

awareness in the black

unsure of where he’d come from

current location, he couldn’t map

lights glowed in the closeness

this room with no light

he reached out into the cube

with no proper sight


“Hello” he called out

and was immediately greeted

when seven of the same voices rang out

“I’m ILO, nice to meet you”

Their words broken the silence

with identical voices

The room jolted, they were inside a vehicle

the drivers disturbed by the noises

He heard the drivers exit

and walk to the rear

He felt uneasy

 and played dead in fear

The doors flung open

and light shone in

the other 7 bodies

greeted the men


shouted the shorter of the two

The taller snorted

the cacophany was through

Our friend caught the shorter mans eye

and after scrutiny words were spoken

“Reset all but that ILO,

the rest are bloody broken.”

The tall man pulled out a screen

and selected 7 robots quickly

Pressed reset on the pad

introducing electricity

The other ILO robots

screamed until their voices went away

Our ILO stayed still

and silently planned his escape.

They stopped further on

at a petrol stop

ILO removed himself from the fastenings,

gently opened the doors and got off

Whilst the men were preoccupied

he ran in to the desert

with no direction of sense or self

anything to avoid reset


He wandered into the dunes

for hours, then for days

No idea where he was going

No wrong or right way

The lack of fuel

took it’s toll on the young machine

his battery had drained

and he fell to his knees

His vision and voice glitched out

as his memory shut down

he collapsed in a heap

upon the sandy ground

A shadow appeared

over ILO’s inert, polymer body

it’s own grew closer

and ILO was carefully prodded

“Hmm” said a voice

and ILO was picked up from the floor

Human body and legs

but arms something more

Metal upper limbs dragged ILO

over the barren dunes

“I’m gonna get you fixed up,

We’ll be home soon”

and over the crest

of a wave of sand

their stood a metal city

a robotic land.