Green Fields

My poem 'Field Party' features in the Green Fields anthology published by Maytree Press, available here. Field Party The sweet trace of fodderon the breeze, the acidof spilled cider. Occasional cars tearing up the air, like the invitesnone of us had received. I don't even remember a house. What signal set us heading outto ooze like summer starlings feeding … Continue reading Green Fields

Poetry Birmingham Review

I have three poems in the new edition of Poetry Birmingham Review, including the sequence 'Creek Diary'. Excerpt from 'Creek Diary' The soft blur of codeineleaks into morning light.A cloud unpinned, a drifting barge.A herring gull preening on a mast. * I took myself offacross marshland and coast paths, lost along the littoral  * Slate grey and … Continue reading Poetry Birmingham Review

Reviews: West South North, North South East (2)

I found a lovely review by Andrew Taylor of my poetry collection West South North, North South East in The Journal, Sam Smith's heroic poetry magazine from Wales. My thanks to both of them. Sometimes, I don't know where any of us would be without the small presses. _________ Following a Red Ceilings Press pamphlet, … Continue reading Reviews: West South North, North South East (2)

Reviews: West South North, North South East (1)

As well as including my poem 'Berlin', the current issue of the Frogmore Papers includes a nice review from Peter Stewart of my debut poetry collection, West South North, North South East. 'Among many fine poems in Daniel Bennett's debut collection, 'Still Life' remarks on the featured delicious apples whose green/ will always remind us … Continue reading Reviews: West South North, North South East (1)

Elsewhere

Elsewhere are currently hosting my film-poem 'Landscape With Man and High-Vis Jacket and Alpaca.' https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bOd_7UzoRfE For the last ten years, I've made the same train journey through the Hampshire countryside, from London out towards the coast. The landscape has become a familiar companion during this time, although remaining remote and elusive, trapped beyond glass. One night, on … Continue reading Elsewhere

from ‘At The Frontier’

The diary lay blank. A summer job fell through. The engine in my head ran wild, chopping up clay, foliage, nudging farm machineryto roll loose across the landscape  down into the valley between the old hills.The pool of mud was meat under moonlight. Someone lit fireworks in a darkened annex.The hooded man offered a long-toothed smile.  These things … Continue reading from ‘At The Frontier’