Monthly Archives: April 2012

Best before

Today’s poem springs from things seen and heard this morning. Best before Rhubarb and mango chutney square bottle gold lid under the ingredients list it says best before May 2913. I admire the precision of that ‘May’ wonder what happens … Continue reading

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About Jan Dean

About Jan Dean.

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Change of State

EX24 to WA16 Sky shines that last dark blue at the pivot of the day before blackness. I drive the motorway, change down to pass a Stobart, Paul Simon sings me through the long walled bend to Avonmouth I’m going … Continue reading

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Mouse

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Back at the keyboard

I’ve been away from my keyboard for a couple of weeks and writing poems in actual ink on real paper.  Now that I’m here again – briefly – I’m going to post a few of these unblogged pieces  alongside my … Continue reading

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Stuffed

I left cash under my pillow but the bastard fairy didn’t leave no teeth bad start and all avalanche landslip downhill since red sky turned out to be my shed burning and them shepherds? not a one warned me liars … Continue reading

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29 refusals at the checkout.

29 refusals at the checkout. Charity bag pack and I’m doing my bit I’ve learnt how to open those flimsy bags all I need now is a customer. The long queue grumps its way through the slow till – but … Continue reading

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Poem A Day # 5

This is the last medical poem. Honest. I’m moving on to cheerier stuff next. Scar Tissue I consider the staples their angularity their flat shine the way they grip flesh which rises like pursed lips and will heal into a … Continue reading

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Poem A Day for a Month # 4

Colonoscopy. I’ve breathed through birth so I can breathe through this… only now I am the one curled like a fist and my breath shunts in time with the clench of my hand round the hand of the nurse. Re-lax. … Continue reading

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Still with training wheels…

Goodnight Irene. I probably won’t see you in my dreams unless you are the cow on the landing in which case I will pat your ample black and white worldmap flanks and urge you carefully down the stairs. I’m unlikely … Continue reading

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