Hockley Brook

Apres du the past
black and white traction engine
fails to ignite me
But the present lo, behold!
Traps of Budapest alight

warm and welcoming
into the future, we gaze
counting the prophets
Shopkeepers Inn and hot food
Amazed at the distance gone

Drinking black and white
Elements and hops barley
within touching reach
from everywhere for a
piece of gold from nearby town

Hockley nestled tween
Handsworth and Winson Green
Great minds of Soho
House that built a city out
of industry innovate.

Houses that line the brook
Boxes within, tenants block
Police, ambulance
children bounce on trampolines
in sheer delight at being here

While adults of age
commute to work on all days
turning overturn there’s
lots to be done in Hockley
Looking out for number one.


A meditation on the place I moved to recently.



Grasping with eagle claws
the clouds I’d tear from the sky
unholy minions denizens of the deep
forcing me to let go
to collapse into a heap
once more sane
no more blame
no more games

The buzzing denizens
the trembling vixens
awaiting my touch
awaiting my every word

(sounds of breathing)
Dragons passing my door
No-one loves me anymore
There are no rules
Only sane and insane
to rule my actions of the sword
Terrible silence Roars
Terrible silence – Roars
To be replaced
by small talk
how did I get so fucking deep?