No Power In The Verse Can Stop Me NaPoWriMo 2025

The rain is coming in againI watch it approach from over the seaFrom up here high on my promontory, Privileged as I am to see it move, slowly, Creeping over landscapes Towards us The windows start to rattle And the gulls across the way take cover This is the daily drill for them Since spring…

I write each weary evening Bleary eyed and bleary souled I reach out hands reluctantly And tap into my phone It’s long gone past the time When most folks are safe in bedYet here I am And here I’ll stayTil poetry is deadSometimes the words are there Whirrring, wheeling into placeBut most nights it’s like…

The swallows are backI catch a glimpse of one, Swooping over a low hedge By the side of the road, as we drive homeA flash of blue and white and redI lean forward, squinting to check their tail length Just to make sure it’s not the swifts, yet.“First swallow!!” I yell“Ahh, good. It’s summer now”…

“It is a serious thing just to be alive on this fresh morning, in this broken world” – Mary OliverIt is a serious thingTo reverently look upon The trees, the fields, the sunsetBreathing in their shapes and colours.It is a serious thingTo recognise the names of flowers,To yell the names of birds of prey,Or dogs,…

Sometimes, this brain of mineCan be a nightmare swirl ofForgotten emails,Looming deadlines,Manic shifts from mood to moodA cacophony of sensory confusionAnd the feeling of impending doomBut sometimes Just sometimes This fizzy lizard brain Will latch on to something new and funAnd run And run And run And runSo yeah, deadlines are my enemy, and my…

My eyelids fought each otherAnd yet the only winner Was meBecause at the end of the altercationAll there was Was sleep

Blue skies Reflected in blue seasGold rays On golden sandThe country is a bin fire, obviously, obviously – but sometimes Things are alright Sunday afternoon napStolen from the day, without being plannedThe window’s open for the first time this spring Gentle breeze Bird song The faraway sound of the sea Tiny moments to be grateful

We wrap stories around each other like great woollen blankets To insulate us against the cold of unknownsTaking words learnt long ago And moulding them into tiny pieces of comfort To be passed on, in new and varied forms I can only hope, against hope, that one fine day Some of the random shit I…

If I have to be a wheel of capitalismThen I’ll teach the kids with my storiesThat being kind is important But also, fuck the Tories I need this job to liveSo we had better make it worthwhileI’ll become the thing the right wing hatesAnd indoctrinate kids with a smile 🙂

All roads look the same after a while. Except, that bit of the M40, Where the sky opens up suddenly And red kites swoop across the scene. Oh and that bit of the M5, Where you cross the flooded Avon,Miles upon miles of sopping wet fields to either side As far as you can see.And…

I’ll scroll and scroll and Scroll and scroll and Scroll til I can’t remember who I am Where I am What I am Phew

If I were a fish I think I’d still be afraid Of those things that lurk Deep downIn the darkYou know, those fishWith the see-through faceOr the rows of teethOr the deeply unsettling mandiblesThe eyes that see in the dark That see into your soulAnd find you sorely wantingIf I were even a huge blue…

If writing poems were as easyAs falling asleepI would still not be any good at it. But occasionally the planets would align To bring the equivalent of that one perfect night Where your head hits the pillow and bam, lights out.Tonight is not that night And this is not that poemAnd maybe it will never…

If hibernation were an option I think I’d quite like to give it a go Spend a few months just monching And cronching and munching and saying “Oh this? It’s for my survival!” To anyone who dared to question My quest for a good layer of winter protection. Then I could curl up Somewhere soft…

Don’t have the powerFor words that rhyme today, soThis will have to doMaybe poetryIs sometimes just existingAnd hey, that’s ok

Hey You,You probably won’t listen to thisCoz let’s face it, we’re a little bit precocious And not one to take unsolicited advice But one day, in the future,(From where I’m saying this)You’re gonna be in a band.You’ll stand on stages in hot sticky pubs With some of the folks you love the mostAnd people in…

Have you ever felt so tired That you’re angry at your own bodyThat everything is terrible OR hilarious And nothing in betweenThat the only thing getting you throughIs a licence plate that reads “POO”And the thought of a premium sausage roll from the service stationYeah, me too

A little nonsenseEchoing through walls adorned with Poster paint flowersProud sugar paper formsA roll call of letting go. A snatch of a tune Filtering through grey offices intoRooms of colour Spaces safe and soft,Room to run if you need toBut most of you don’t.I’ve said it before, and I stand by it nowAny one of…

There aren’t enough hoursTo get every damn thing doneSleep is for cowards

Rain mists lightly through the treesBig drops fall delicately from ochre leavesAbove these intrepid souls Daring greatly Stubborn to a T Determined to live a life so far out of reach For now Just for now Seeing how the other half spend a wet April Sunday Bathed in delight At 38 degrees

We’re busy building empires Stacking brick upon brick upon brick uponEach conquered piece of progress Each step getting closer to something Kind of like success And yesI’m so proud of you, of me, of this But I wish upon wish upon wish uponWish the price of doing so Wasn’t the distance inbetween The miles upon…

You know going in that it’s going to be badBut no Just noYou are not preparedFor something so unutterably heinousThat you take off your glasses just to try and dull the edgesIt makes NO SENSEThough it’s *really* trying, With every new pun it feels like you’re dyingThe continuity errors are just fucking offensiveI feel like…

I don’t want to see a ghost, Though it’s not the sight that I fear mostAnd it’s hard to say what that would be, actually.If you scroll through the list ofUsual suspectsThere’s nothing that really stands out as the worst, a curse or blight on my psycheUntil, I guess, yeah, I had something to loseSo…

They sayYou only ever have a first time onceBut I don’t know if that’s trueMaybe first times are just A state of mind A mode of being, a context clueMaybe first times are just a vibe Something tangible to hold on to Gimme a tenth timeSixteenth, five hundred and ninth,Two thousand nine hundred and ninety…

I never realisedBefore I came backFrom the brink of wherever I was The number of things that stood out about meIf you only looked close enoughA lifetime ago I disappeared Melted like the T-1000Ready to reform anew and You were all there waitingPaying attention Giving a shit without expecting repaymentTil it feels like I’m really…

Without you I’m nothingJust a headachey mess There’s no eloquent way to try and expressThe ways that you hold me together Like a thousand elastic bands Like the reassuring squeeze of you and me holding handsLike the covalent bond that exists between new shoes and sticky pub dancefloors You’re a scalpel Dissecting my attentionLaying it…

There And Back Again Inch by inch Mile by mile Through trial and tribulation,Nothing to keep us on our path But usJust us Take my hand through this barren land Until we stand upon the brink of HomeWherever orWhoever That is