Latest Submissions

The Presence of Jalendu

This story was published in Cadenza, a now defunct high-quality literary magazine. I see it a one of my (few) best.  ...

5th of November

The Gothic towers appear impressive from a distance. And lit at night the entire building has a recognisable majesty. Yet, up close, it is, in parts, ruinous. Peopled by those, in parts, ruinous. What may begin as veneration can twist to vanity. And vigilance sour to a patrolling paranoia. The crown is brittle: eggshell. A marble and granite temple in a grove on the shores of Lake Nemi. Here, a man, is, by virtue, often ...

The reluctant benefit tourist.

This is a part of my life which I was reluctant to accept initially to come to the UK,having been forced to come  as a POW. I wrote this piece many years ago and just came across it again ...

Different folks

Life is a roller-coaster ...

5th of November

Mummy’s home. Daddy said she’d be home today. It’s been a long time since I saw her, and even then, she was sleeping in a very tall bed with rails at the side, just like the ones I used to have on my bed. I’m a big girl now, I never fall out – well hardly ever Granny has been staying, to help Daddy. I like it when Granny stays. She bakes little cakes and ...

My wishes

My wishes are dreary and cold Time, in rush, under the sun is sweating, And summer sears stories can’t be told, The heart by itself is obliged to live beating, In cadence with love words of a song, Which a pretty girl sang so long, so long. I sighed, then, and sympathized with her pain, Later, to recollect those words, I tried in vain. Her eyes were intense black, sad and wet. Where starless winter ...
/ / Poetry / 1 Comment on My wishes

Fix My Computer

This story was inspired whilst listening in to a friend on an IT support call (first published on my blog in 2012) ...

Lamartine’s Umbrella

Better to re-submit a poem than not submit at all. This one begins with a real event ...

Y Viva España

One of my Spanish Civil War poems  ...

Donegal Eden

Part true - part fiction ...

Paralysed.

Thou, of my ugliest despair, know Though thy love and care grow; Through my darkness thou seek, For fragments of a profitable tale, From my clearest days of love Which pain repelled to remove So withered they silent and weak Deeper in dark abyss of a deep dale. Flutter not nor float to speak. Lone forgotten to die below. Alas, thy pure heart and pride, Thy beauty and perfume at my side, The pleasure thy ...
/ / Poetry / 1 Comment on Paralysed.