
Chris Hemingway
Poet, songwriter, two published pamphlets (‘paperfolders’, ‘party in the Diaryhouse’)

Chris Hemingway
Poet, songwriter, two published pamphlets (‘paperfolders’, ‘party in the Diaryhouse’)
It’s been this way since the Domesday Book.
So convinced
no one would need ever take
an arrow in the eye again.
An arrow in the eye,
there are other ways to blind,
or to be blind.
There’s an exhibition of driftwood
washed up on the river.
Washed up on the river,
choked to shallows by uncut reeds.
They slashed the hospitals,
knocked on the doors
of the ill and workless
Ill and workless,
f...
The Bad Thing never lasted
As long as I thought it would.
It lodged in my subconscious
And Colonised my anticipation.
But in real time I realised
the Bad Thing could not last forever
and has no more stamina
than better things, everydays.
It’s only fuel
was the power I offered it....
Blood moon
Covered by the sun
Red Shadow
Hovers like desert dust
Superstitious times
Bring strong voices
In the kingdom of the unrehearsed
We are all off guard
and frightened
Watching the skies
With pre- science eyes
Hungry for answers
For sacrifice
To know
It’s not our fault...
It’s Firework Day, the town is eager
Each year hoping Klauss will ignite
the Volcano Fountain.
And once again, astonishing sparks and trails
will fly across the square,
and we will reach upwards, towards the fire lanterns.
No-one will mourn, the grief that engulfed us
will dissolve
And Klauss will climb down from the church tower
As the bells in his head ring out once more...
The fingers of suspicion finished pointing
before the hands had started to applaud
the knuckles bared like teeth that needed filling
the nails hardly blunter than his sword
Her trust had not survived the last confession
It left a taste that clung to every word
And nothing he could do would stop the burning
Though it was undersaid and overheard.
The trouble with suspicion is it lingers
Hangs a...
When my Grandad had died
I said that we were coping
By crying alone,
sitting in separate rooms.
Facing each other after.
When your Grandad had died
It was one of the rare times
when you were real to me,
showing me your true feelings
Sadly unshared in family...
I was 60
I wanted to do something new
To get a significant gift
And it looks terrific
Something to sit in front of in the evening
Quiet steady practices
As if
Where would that time come from?
Borrowed from unlearnt languages
Fetched from must-read shelves
Bought from quick contracts
But I’ve got a set of three finger chords
And some heavy reverb bass
I never thought it’d be Chopin
I can lose...
Doubt (dowt) mythical English creature, half purposeful, half anxious.
Doubtful, doubts were said to have huge appetites, but little interest in pronouns or prepositions, believing them to be constructs of their human suppressors
In fairness, they also knew that humans who tried to suppress doubts very rarely succeeded.
Doubtless, describing a situation where a either no doubts remained, or po...
1st Alex
2nd Douglas
You’ve written a book?
Yes, it’s a quirky metaphorical self- improvement pamphlet
About bank robbers?
It’s not illegal if it’s a metaphor
Are you sure?
Technically simile could land you with community service, but metaphor is ok
Maybe you’d be sent somewhere that felt like prison..
but wasn’t
Exactly, so what’s the central idea?
Approach your life as if you were ro...
2024
Blue walls are crumbling
How quickly the conjurors are melting away
2025
Budget papers leaked insiders
Not wholly true but close enough
2026
Half term Oranges
And other even more
cumbersome metaphors
2027
Blue walls are still dissolving
with toxic microplasticity
2028
Five years pass, sheep are grazing
in what seem mostly greener fields...