Żabko

Żabko, Śpieszmy się kochać ludzi, tak szybko odchodzą.* Autumn leaves line forest paths  with copper rose and burnt orange lath; Laced sun upon October draught. Your feet drum a rhythm into earth, The beat of Slavic ancestry. Perperuna Opens the heavens and rain Touches your face in ways that I envy.  The cold kiss against your...

The Moment

(C) 2022, Phen Weston

Night Forest Journal Issue 3 — Night Forest Cell of Radical Poets

The world has been a strange place since the release of the second issue of our journal. This strange quality has permeated near all aspects of civilisation, in more ways than we could articulate here. In a very long book, the philosopher Schopenhauer described poetry as being greater than history, as history can only account […]Night...

Suicide Notes – A Free Collection

Slight update to this free collection. Nothing new, just a few tiny edits! But here is a free collection of some of my poems, all written through my ongoing battle with Borderline Personality Disorder, Bipolar Disorder and Generalised Anxiety Disorder. I hope you all enjoy and thank you for reading. Click here ------->  Suicide Notes...

Doom Days

loving you was suicide an adrenaline fuelled skydive towards needle pillars and crying precipices that long to break me a soul that only you saw that only you understood that you fixed with one simple message creating worlds and colour creating future and passion making me whole and that I stole in mistake and stupidity...

A CALL TO HOWL…

Night Forest Cell of Radical Poets

“He was mastered by the sheer surging of life, the tidal wave of being, the perfect joy of each separate muscle, joint, and sinew in that it was everything that was not death, that it was aglow and rampant, expressing itself in movement, flying exultantly under the stars.” ― Jack London, The Call of the Wild.

We call this phase around Our star 2020. A cycle that has revealed cracks and fissures within leviathan. We have seen its devastating effects upon our home with raging fires that destroy and corrupt our lungs. We have seen the truth of its strength as society came to a global stand still from a microscopic virus, created by the conditions We choose to exploit Our fellow earthlings in. We have watched as those who “lead” Us profit from playing our differences against one another, only caring about their own self-interest. 2020 is screaming at…

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In your eyes

To J • In your eyes I saw the burning passion of a thousand years,Of love that swept the land with fond spring ariasAnd tingledwith raindrop touch,dancing upon our skin, As I walked to you,the world becomes a place I want to belong to again.Those long winters gone and, in your arms, I tracea lifetime...

Porphyria’s Wake

Years neglect how she became my muse until her eyes tore through the shrouds of all I had come to call empyrean earth. Now each step engulfs her loveless being, and waters wash away the strongest walls, each held the sanity before, Bastille amour. Bleeding sooner than death can swing her scythe, to show me...

Her Ghost Walks Stars

♦ From my book ‘Nothing But The Rain’ ♦ Through births and deaths, Haunting oceans of emptiness, She solely walks with Universal falling stars, An apparition to dead worlds Manifested between nebulous crypts, As revenant watcher of long days She wistfully travelled light years, A spiralling impression Faintly touching those who lived Grounded, A trace,...

Untitled, 1st February 2016

She placed the world against arousing paradigms that salaciously played with wood and feathers, fire and flames, that grew in aching hours, prurient and gradations folding with new dissonances. Each lubricious memory, that danced within the chasms of life, hold suggestive to those witnessing their yearning, rife and pornographic to those with privileged visions. In...