A group of writers in Chichester coming together once a month for inspiration, collaboration and sensation

Love poems series.


I used to be a dreamer
but then I woke up
the cup was overflowing
but taking a sip,cut my lip
on the cup.


We drank and talked
seemed a time without ends
where this would go next
it’s on your feelings
and so depends.


A single eyelash scratches barriers to softness off
like the bark of a tree
scrapes off the hardened crust of hurt
exposing vulnerability.


I was a romantic,
later on a cynic.
But now I’ve been vaccinated from fairytales
at the Real Relationships Clinic.

Did you ever mourn a memory
wish that time would still now be?
Tell me you wish you were lying with someone right now,
Lying with yourself that’d it work out SOME HOW.
A small sorrow will tear at the fabric of the sky,
and all the moons,suns and stars of the cosmos drown and die
irrelevant to what once was here-
It’s a jagged path,this life,we all must steer

Love isnae aboot cairds or cuddly bears
Love’s aboot bein wi somebdy an no huvin any cares.
Love isnae foond in the sayin
Love lies in the daean.
Mony wish they kent whit love wis aboot
an mony unnerstaun love nae doot
Love is oor society’s root
an wioot it, graws unhealthy fruit.

Rainbow Romantics.
George Street Square
She kissed me there
Is this love? all’s fair
Kissed her back
made my peace with Glasgow,with the past
The hardships of a recent return shyly slunk off
It only takes a moment for a door to open
what would this mean we could only wait and see
we hugged kissed more,she left for thought
told me don’t you be gettin needy
she said it would only be if she was free from all demand
of exclusivity
It only takes a second for a door to close
They call me a dreamer, all the names in the book
Don’t  they know, have sighed long and hard,
walked cobbled and coastal nights
lost and lonely
lost in myself
lost to myself
and yet home is all this’d ever be
I can’t do as you ask
watch you go
will you return to me?


She whae came
she whae felt an did
she whae waan’ed
fae love hir love wis hid.

Mair thorns they mey prick ‘ir
mair sair maun ken her hert
she wunnert whit it wis fer
gin she cuid avoid it fae the stert.

she whae’s loast
she whae whun she hud
she whae love left fest
she whae cuidnae help bit boast
….an ye ken the rest.

9. Peel off the wear and tear of a weary world
at the bottom of it all, lies a romantic(somewhere)
A cynic,a hopeful believer,with flowery verses to make you sick
No! I believe in a beautiful synchronicity
not symbosis or subsumption
pathological parity or insecure redemption
No! a real humble mutuality
a honest son signs up to a singlehood
of setbacks,self esteem cracks
suspected lacks
No! It is not needed..
In the face of it, from every front,
fortitude against the forces
“Hunter blow Thy Horn”
and sing the song of the dreamer.

When the rose was still alive
I dreamed of a world without pains
A boy lost a sense of self
uncomfortable man of war truths, that gentle heart died


I was made for you
like the correction pen for the mistake.
I see through you to the loveliness inside
like a window that’s opaque.
I want to burrow into your face
I want to be the mould growing in your most intimate space.
I want to be your parasite
if you’ll be my host.
I want to haunt your grave like a ghost.
Nail me to a cross,I’ll be your christ
killed all the angels in paradise.
I want to eat your vomit
I want to blast you like Hailey’s Comet.
make me the leper of your dreams.
I want to feed you in through your pus sores.
nail you against the wall like serial murdered whores.
I want to shit on your chest
I want to rape your distress.
I’ll eat your bleeding faecal matter
to show how far I’d go.
You’re my baby and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do-
just had to let you know.
That’s how much I love you.
I need you,can’t you see
even if all I got from you was an STD
then that
would be enough for me.

All the human family are
like comrades to me,
Love is revolutionary.
Love has lived in
Kronstadt, Catalonia
Victoria gardens,St Andrews Square
and the Paris Commune.
and Love howls in  sorrow
like a wolf before the moon.
Weeds grow over dictators graves
While a new world blooms from each person
that mutual aid saves.


love is a lie
love doesn’t exist
love is torture
love is false consciousness.


Whaur yince wis flame
Dule wis nane.
Whaur yince wis hope,
nou is gane.



Meet with social dreamers at Pavillion Café
others run the opposite direction on the path.
Here the future hones it’s craft
that brave world only still on it’s first draft.
Pregnant with possibility – dialogue
we’re all in it for the long slog.


Woman wanted
for revolution and romance
for ending class war,
who just wants to dance.

gentle souls,
not government moles
no sly stories
no love for fascists
or for the tories.

a good kisser
uses her brain
who stands up for her rights
who against the establishment
-not me-
always fights!

That’s the woman I want.
That’s the women I need
A lover, and a rebel
in every word and deed.




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This entry was posted on August 1, 2013 by in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , .
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