Here are some poems I have written and posted on this blog. Alternatively check out the tags writing, poetry and poems which will bring you back to writing I have tagged.


Hangdog in my brow, eyes and soul (body)

Hangdog in my bones, my muscles, my legs,

Caught in between currents at sea

in a boat in a whirlpool

Vultures cry overhead

I am addicted to my bed

Suffering withdrawal I lie out

Calamities are calling

But I am deaf

I am focussed, bread

dead. Yet I breathe

and as I write this feel

something other. Personal,

Social, Public, personal,

persona, persona non grata.

Hangdog in my wrist, in my fist

fingers, hand, eyes, brow.

Hangdog has got me.

Will not let me go.

Stiff, unyielding, not alive

not dead. Not doll, not lead.

The ache in my back, kidneys

migrating, pain shock.

paracetamol, doors locked.

Personal shame, public blame

undying flame, stupid game.

Master and slave, dog and hangdog

winner and loser, alone but not alone

heart-tugging, souls shrugging

personal shame. It’s the name of the game

we play in life, who is up, who is next, who is out.

Fingers curl around my heart

and squeeze and shove. moving muscle

moving me from alone to convalesced.

Norton knows of my pain and on the

great plains I am next to Saffran Grass dead and

rotting already gone, yet at home I live, on.

The sounds from without punch a lonely

beat on the house on the street where

people shall meet and greet and glower and

soap and shower in full view of everyone.

My lamp glows steadfastly, its LED’s

unthinking, unaware of the milling around

of folk and their stories that bear heavily

like wild animals exploring man’s world.

Off The Sea

I can hear the waves rushing in off the sea

I don’t know but to me this is poetry

Its like everyone is here from 1993

In the air is a poem carrying some psyence fiction

and in my throat a sound, like a moan but more guttural like a gorilla

Children of the age from Landon town in pink wearing a frown upside down

Marshmallows by the fire and suddenly its time! So soon. Back to my room.

And it’s the Seventies again tonite. Come on Eileen! Come on! We’re having fun.

David Bowie on a yacht asking me could it be so much fun. Weeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Yes I can grab your gun we’re going for a run into town to see what’s going down

Hello, Titch, I’ve got a dog named Mitch back at home but here I’m all alone…

Alone in despair but I don’t care. I think I’m destined for better things.

What rhymes with this mote on my finger? Better things/ Golden Rings

Suddenly I’m ten again and the world seems to be very large. I play in a corner, alone.

Are you one of them? Or are you one of us? to which the only answer can be – I think I’m one of me.

Speedway on the track, no time for looking back into a grey haze on duvet days.

Another false dawn comes as no surprise to my eyes, my eyes, my eyes come as no surprise.

And blink and count back from ten. Then come looking for us.

Published by Andrew Mark Watkins

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