Wednesday, 11 February 2015


after Sir Andrew Motion
Andrew Motion on how to write a love poem)


Totally took the toolbox to the task, tib.
Ransacked it;
rhetoric repurposed, to the red rhythm of your rib.

I love you.
You're beautiful.

More than that,
you're flawless! Perfect! What?
Sorry, right. You're right, that's ridiculous.
No but seriously... what?
Why are you laughing?

When I open my mouth to speak
and I know you can hear me,
the room becomes an echo chamber:
all *I* can hear is me, too. The sythms and rhounds as I 
sputter and stoonerise words for which
there is no dictionary definition.
But then, there *are* no words for which
the dictionary definition
clomes cose to what I'm
sighing to tray.

Really? Right, right.
Back to the drawing board.
(I love you. You're beautiful).