Publications

Windows Author and Artist Series (1994) n/a
Falling into Monaghan (1999) £5.99
Historiographilia (2002) n/a
Falling into Cornwall (2009) £10.00
Salthouse and Chapel (2010) £5.99
Graphohistoricity (2012) n/a
A Shared Experience (2013) n/a
Falling into Atlantic Islands (2019)
An extended and enlarged Conchinilia Journey II: Shell Artists and Collectors (2021)
Hereward: The Wake (2022)

See also - Poetry Ireland Review, Flaming Arrows, Spark Review, Stet, Argus, Gaelacht Lan, Krino, Honest Ulsterman, Cuirt Literary Journal, The Connacht Tribune, The Steeple, Atlanta Review, Crab Orchard Review, W.P. Monthly, Salmon, A Journey in Poetry 1981-2007, Poetry Cornwall, The Cornishman, Cornwall Poetry Anthology, The Backyards of Heaven, At the Year's Turning (Or Volge L'Anno),, Windows Anthology etc

Block Stanzas (from Wave Hub, 2014)

I'm knocking down a Cornish Hedge: rank surgery on a brain
with sledgehammer, jack; secateurs cutting veins in ivy –
wedges of scab, rab, lichen, furze over cracked fingernails.

I'm moving my wall to new land twenty feet on. No need for
numbered stones (big molars left at base, the rest now gone).
Phil's digger grates, clangs mantis through mist. A happy dentist.

I find pennies stamped in lime, centipedes, a phial, colonies of
snails (no rings, gold bands). Each hour there's rain to wash over
mud on the hands. Each shower a nuisance, curse and denial:
I wrack old bones on new land.

For these last late frosts have rattled my box of eggs, tested
my limitations. Issues of possession- this new triangle of meadow,
correcting the boundary by degrees. The hard work satisfies more
than myself, stakes a shift in growth, assembled order, histories.

Aphrodite and the Acid Coast

Limestone slews sheer to blue Mediterranean, white
As slashed teeth from a scull.

        Was Proteus ill? Our boat rattered into life, churning cobalt, the
        Promise of cream in a cowrie. After minutes, in a line piercing
        The horizon, we stopped.

No child was born. In quiet we heard the thin wailing of sea birds.
Wincing, we stared in dull wonder, knew the long issues of starting again.