zines
coming & going a weekend shooting photos with beCa and friends
be my Canova (excerpt)
time ticks away her beauty, her reason
for being here, to capture the moment
with her flower still in full bloom
so why hide the flower beneath a floral dress
to protect its nectar from the attracted bees
would the gardener keep the garden’s beauty from prying eyes
until it withers and its bouquet turns rancid
why cheat the world of her beauty
some adult imagery
€10 + €2.50 p&p
Confidential Interrogations An A5 photo-poetry zine. A confessional document about an erotic encounter.
the rat love (excerpt)
reluctant to condemn myself in your eyes
I refuse to use the word “love”, I'm smitten
the four letter word being an expletive
along with cock, cunt, piss, shit and fuck
love being the worst offender of all
it is sugar coated poison, a course of aversion
therapy, love being the demon, that squats
in the head, the voice, that keeps one awake
at night, the paranoia, love being a one way ticket
to the asylum, Nietzsche prescribed spectacles
for cure, experience can be cure enough
some adult imagery
€10.00 + 2.50 p&p
Sex & Cigarettes An A5 photo-poetry zine. The sociology of sexual pleasure.
cigarette III (excerpt)
she gave me a cigarette
I wanted to give her one back
“give her one” euphemism, “to fuck”
rude and crude, it is how I felt
earthy, good for the grind
all woman, struggling beneath me
erupting, like a world in turmoil
one fantasizes about these things
but do they ever really happen
a coy smile to nude with attitude
a man cannot prepare himself
for such a metamorphous
some adult imagery
€10.00 + 2.50 p&p
Comics
Ranter No.1. Ranter knows everything and is happy to educate you on things he thinks you should be interested in.
€5 + €2.50 p&p
Ranter No.2. Ranter is back happy to carry on educating you on things he thinks you should be interested in.
€5 + €2.50 p&p
Government In Exile. A one off satirical comic.
€5 + €2.50 p&p.
5 original editions available €10 p&p
Boris & Betty Bad the Bad couple who are bad at being bad. B&B Bad was a gag comic strip created in the late 90s, early 2000 that appeared originally in an online zine Oysters and Chocolate and ran for about 2 years. It later appeared in a couple of Danes and now defunct journals.
€5 + €2.50 p&p
Gaylien.Gaylien, the confused alien whose mission is to seek out new life forms and procreate.
€10 + €2.50 p&p 2 remaining
photo books
Inside Out Upside Down An A5 analogue experiments involving the damaging and interference with negatives.
portrait series: Frans Smith
portrait series: Joz Knoop (poet)
Rainy
Self
poetry chapbooks
Explaining women
A collection of poems are based on a mixture of fact, fiction, memory, gossip and myth. Where reality ends and the imagination begins? Kow towing to political correctness has no place in this collection, a rake's progress of poems.
€10 + €2.50p&p
Explaining Women (excerpt)
J, with collar up, like a character out of The Third Man
arrived incognito, cigarettes, wine and a Leonard Cohen LP
she kissed the air, to communicate her corrupt intentions
the regal poise of a queen at court, she sat in an easy chair
her husband’s cheque book held with the authority of a sceptre
eager to squander the ground beneath his feet
redress his neglect of his treaty obligations
with a body half her age and underwear to match
an ability to quote Ovid, in context and in Latin (I asked)
she offered herself as tribute, in a game of marital chess
to be iconised, her vulva, an apple for the artist’s eye
her drama, tempting the snake in her adulterous game
there was no eunuch in this brothel, I studied her
someone else's concubine, insomeone else's harem
in the aquarium of diffused studio light, J posed
visions of neoclassical beauty, impressionist voluptuousness
mine were strictly utilitarian, open thighs directed my eye
sexual gravity, I was sucked in by the black hole of want
she may have considered her offer ripe for the plucking
I saw it as a fish mouth sucking its prey out of a shell
her Cleopatra's grip, firm as a brush in an artist’s hand
Japanese geishas were said to be skilled at such art
training and experience enabled her to grip the brush
full of ink, then she would squat, articulate her hips
draw a calligraphic line, reflect the art of moving in coition
J was impressed, there was something else he need not know
secrets piled up over the years, like a rack of old canvases
some masterpieces, some best discarded
Muse
Muse is a drama written in poetry from the point of view of an artist's Muse, after which the collection of poems is titled. The poems in the collection are both experience and fictions but it is difficult to say where experience ends and fiction begins. Celebratory, lusty, cynical and love weary, these poems are sexual relationships with daggers.
€10 + €2.50p&p
Maggie
Maggie with electric copper
mane
brighter than fire, clad in black leather
animal skin stretched over animal
sat astride an old Vincent five hundred
its single piston thumping hard
holding the bull by the horns
a twist of the wrist, urged more power
her straightened back, took the shock
the machine belched blue and growled
spat grit then thundered up road
this could be fiction but the memory is fact
riding pillion along the Rivelin Valley
the inflated sun more orange than a Jaffa
female anatomy pushed hard into my groin
not that I was in control, I was hanging on
she handled lovers like she handled a bike
easing them into the bend, lower, lower
accelerating out, then a wheely along the straight
in awe, you surrender to your fate, knowing
if the road doesn't get you, her sex will
the addiction of life at speed, the
intake of breath
overtaking and weaving through the flow of traffic
my life depending upon Amazon skills
I see her, stretched naked before me, a road
into some new adventure, just one more time
the summer, Silver Machine played on every juke box
in cafes and pubs, at all night
parties
we shared coffee, beer and body fluids, her leathers
unzipped to her navel, the globes of her breasts
always threatened to push free
the sodium street lights bent like sunflower heads
pollinating the dark suburban streets we cruised
my arms belted around her waist, my hands gloved
in her leathers, jealously guarding her sex
inhaling the oily sweat of my Amazonian queen
The Dead Centre Of The Universe And Other Places
This collection begins with a small series of poems about when the poet moved to and arrived in Leeuwarden. The other poems are poems that were written over the years and never fitted into a project, places visited, experiences experienced and musings.
€10 + €2.50p&p
old fart
bottles stand in rows, like a shooting gallery
ceiling high they resemble church organ pipes
bars are churches, you attend to contemplate
or commune with friends and celebrate life
or like me, simply to make human contact
over a beer, another word for holy water
not that I ever attended church, though
I once attended midnight mass on a promise
a Christmas gift wrapped in Chelsea Girl underwear
I endured the drone of tinnitus dirge and voice
the suppressed excitement in my pants
threatened to explode in a blasphemous rage
I’m older now, less well maintained, on the slide
those urgent needs are not so urgent now, anyway
girls in Chelsea Girl underwear don’t promise anymore
so I sit in the chiaroscuro light of Café De Spoek
the mirror behind the bar being all too honest
I’m an old fart doing an old fart thing
I sip my beer and dither, to talk or not to talk
interrupt someone’s brooding depression
impose my genius wit on their dull existence
I could put their world to rights, council them
tell them where their life went wrong
alcoholic advice from an out of control life
the myriad brand labels on endless bottles
life is not long enough to appreciate such efforts
but I’m at a stage in life where experimenting kills
like sex, it’s appreciated but can the heart take it
adventure is another beer, it used to be smoke too
but death loiters with intent, a mugger in the shadows