Excitement for Legacy Launch

Legacy cover penultimate

Exciting news!  My publisher, Black Pear Press, has been working hard on my second collection, ‘Legacy’.  I am delighted to announce I received the penultimate edit this morning, and the book launch is now imminent (weeks away, maybe a month or so!).

I was humbled by Lacuna’s success, thrilled it was popular, and grateful for the readership it found.  More, I am deeply honoured that Black Pear Press have seen something in my poetry that has prompted them to publish a second, more lengthy collection.

Legacy sees the publication of some longer poems and a few more personal pieces, but keeps with my style of delivering mostly succinct and evocative poetry.  I am extremely grateful to my editor, Polly Stretton for her dedication and friendship.

I am also grateful to my brother, Damien Davis, for his stunning cover, and to my friend, Paul F. Lenzi; for his support, guidance and kind words (see his blurb on my back cover!).

I am blessed.  Truly.  Thank you all for your support, I can’t wait to announce a release date.

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Reading Over My Shoulder

Myth-maker,

Sweet and sour

Pot Noodle memories

that remind me,

I would rather be lonely

than ‘only’ anything.

I could quite easily

destroy everything,

simply by refraining

from explaining

myself

to an audience,

that does not read,

but reads into.

 

Inside Suicide

They sought the shadow in the shell,

telling stories of her youth in hope

the memories would remind her,

but the kind were blind and the rope

twitched, she kicked without falling,

silently calling for someone to kill her past,

and, at last, there was peace without pain,

the strain ceased, released, she danced her last.

 

Divine Offering

My corrupted conscience,

a gift to gods at odds

with their religion.

The shrike strikes

a bargain,

the grim harvest,

offered

to the empty coffer

at the alter,

altering the faltering footsteps

of a faith –

fallen on hard times.

Again, the view of empty pews,

greets the chaplain.

 

Epitaph, Entreated

 

It’s just my bones that lie here,

I want it written on my grave,

as my soul was sold so long ago,

so keep your prayers, and save

your tears; for the years I gave

you are worth more than the loss.

Wherever I am, I love you,

don’t be cross. I ask one last thing

of you, my one wish, my final boon,

live your life, be free and please;

don’t come and see me soon.