Sleep Grimalkin (Revisited, 3rd July 2015)

(Taken from my book, Nothing But The Rain)

Grimalkin sulked and snuck,
Matted fur, feverish night,
The witching hour lay insight,
Mistress soon would raise her head,

She baited the mouse, slithered,
Waiting to pounce and devour,
Only four teeth remained,
But still enough to snap bone,

She purred playfully to herself,
The stench of death snaked
From her throat, violating the air,
She didn’t have a single care,

Burrowing deeper still
Into empty pitched darkness,
Camouflaged from everything,
Except the touch of harbingers,

The night felt freshly fresh
Against her ancient bones,
How she loathed the cold,
Insulated she loathed all,

The mouse gently squeaked,
Her ears curiously pricked,
Soon she would have her fun,
Taste the warm redness anew,

Suddenly the air fractured,
Flashed, flared, flailed,
Leaping, she felt her age,
Disdained the world once again,

Before her a kitten stood,
Young innocent faced fun,
Fragmentation of divinity,
How she loathed the youthful,

“I’ve come for you old grandma”
Glee filled his every word
“You’re long past due”
Grimalkin withdrew, into black,

She glared, “I have no time
For nonsense games,” snarled,
She wanted dinner before nightly
Burden, drudgery, duty,

“You’re work is done old one,
now I have come,” prowess prowled,
“Far beyond your normal years
You have wrongly been enslaved”

Experience told her truths
She long knew, she loathed truth,
But enslavement was an odd
Choice of stubborn words,

How could one be a slave
To time, when it was such
A precious commodity,
She didn’t loathe time,

“There is more time than this,”
The kitten calmly, caringly claimed,
Callous the words slammed
Her senior ears, loathing lingered,

Tattered, moth-eaten hair
Stood erect, shivers and shakes,
“Life will be beautiful my friend”
She loathed beautiful too,

The witch stirred, soon the hour
Engulfed, no rest for the wicked,
Was there more than aching bones?
Raspy, her voice caught inside,

Images flowed of younger days,
Before her haggard mistress strayed
And dragged her loathingly
Along her darker path, loathingly,

Playful kitten turned his head
And light illuminated the nearly dead,
Earthly turmoil she would shed,
No longer hallowed to be bled,

“Grimalkin, sweet Grimalkin,
Rest those tired eyes and know
Your time and playful prize,
“I am here for you alone”

Grimalkin loathed alone,
But she loathed this long life
Even more when pleasure
Had long since shut its door,

What was she still waiting for?
And Grimalkin bowed her head,
“If there’s more to this than dead
Show me kitten your soft soft bed”

Grimalkin, matted fur and fang,
Rested one final time, shut her eyes,
Gravely and harsh breathing faded,
And gracefully, loathing left,

Grimalkin, queen of cats,
Sat and bathed in endless light,
Basking, she breathed deep,
Loving eternal pleasures, at peace.


Poem © Phen Weston

Passage Observed (Revisited, 1st July 2014)

The world melted
Together and apart,
An oil painting
On coarse canvas,
Hanging on their memory,

Impressions stolen,

Delicacy flourished
With each withered
Stroke of the brush,
Corse they lay, recall,
Reminiscence of character,

Identity bared,

They were human once
Before fast paced days
Took reflection away,
Ethos still gently manifests,
Ultra-fine hands digress,

Passage observed

Ritual and ceremony
Solemnly prescribed
Nature as the human heart,
Souls collected, constant,
Perfect fields of sunflowers,

Humanity reformed.


Poem © Phen Weston 2014

Nothing But The Rain (Kindle Edition)

“Nothing But The Rain is a moving and intelligent collection of poems. Every word has earned its place, with each piece crafted with meticulous care. Some feel deeply personal, others utterly whimsical, but all feel powered by a narrative touch that adds to the encompasing nature of this little book.” – Callum McLaughlin.

“Read these poems! Then read these poems again and again! They’re incredibly thoughtful, movingly sad, and wonderfully crafted—a collection of the personal, interpersonal, worldly, and otherworldly.” – Benjamin Grossman.

Overconsumption inhales (Revisited, 29th June 2014)

Today the words deny beauty, the
World stunted feverishly hangs in
The debauchery of self pitying twists
That calmly indulge subservient vices without
A care for the barer, who am
I to care of such things when life is
A cruel mistress, fallacy, falsify.
Degeneracy out of turn worms between
The creases of the corpse brain I
Claim knows anything, it’s all lies defiled,
Eaten by the flies. I lovingly submit to
Her taste, sour, bitter, I embrace the
Darkness post-haste, perversion.
She gets under my skin, a bag of bones,
Though self rape isn’t as painful as
The intemperance suggests, overconsumption
Of “who am I” gave way to
Feelings that I was actually someone,
Overconsumption of the
Self made the darkness drown in morality,
Turpitude cries the cold rain
Today, good morning to the fucked! Iniquity!
Principles were never base, maybe that’s
The place I should have laced, payed.
Laid my head down to rest that final time,
Grotesque beauty I sealed
Within these walls crawls again, scratching
Away at my inner lining ’till nails
Rip from their casing, embedded in my misery,
And who will see?

You see!
Staring back at me. As words are
written they evaporate within your smile,
The light floods back through my
Window and denial succumbs to
Your allure, healing combination, allure
Awakens grandeur, artistry whirls love
Against the dying of the day, And you
Stay, implemented ways charm and
You behold myself whole. Who knew
The darkness could so easily dissipate?
Deviate from all I had known before, to
Lives in harmony once more, belle, vision,
One glance, brief, dissolves the frost, the
Fog, the endless dampening smog, and
The way is clear, there is no fear, and
I find my path again.


Poem © Phen Weston

Fortune Of The Teller

If I poured
the fragile thoughts
from my wrists,
crimson binary in bliss,
would you
let me penetrate
your sanity?

You are sanity,

And I watched you dissolve,
cocooned in your innocence!
The legacy of your demise,
cataclysm, catalyst,
the moth
came out to play
in December fields
and aching fray…

You married the queen of my soul
and bled her heart into the dust,
calling the whim of transcended
fractures: fissure under skin.
I kissed your skin,
tasted the scent of your ecstasy,
took your crying dreams,

and dropped them

to fevered culmination.

Falling for futures
fragile with lust,
the promise of death
was always there,
lying in vermilion and
nickel reformed,
we harden the walls
where patience kissed
and stole desire.
And i erected devastation
to you.
Watching the world from the skies
of embered embrace.

How we burned with nothing,
Sepia intercourse, barren and bare,
I DEVOURED your thighs,
Filling your womb with prophet and fortune-teller.

Stripped back to the bone
naked, pulsating, promise.

Will you read this at all?
Know that I crave the sin more than the false
life that never sees the journey.
Walls bow, stumbling again,
maybe it was never the heart that I consumed,
but jeered,
waiting for a taste
between your thighs
for that first kiss of
Your Sanity.
You are sanity,
The Only Lucidity.

ANNOUNCEMENT! The Silent Balance

Hello beautiful World,

How are you all today? Hopefully enjoying the beautiful gift of life we have all been given?

So, today I have a big announcement! The completion and publication of my second book, titled ‘The Silent Balance’. This book is the collected works of my Waka poetry over the last year. It contains over one hundred Haikus, Tankas, Chōkas, Bussokusekikas, Katautas and Sedōkas. It is physically available through Amazon and Create Space, although the eBook is currently still in the works (Formatting Issues). You can click here to take a look. It is only a short book, so to encourage sales for reasons stated below, I have kept the price as low as I can. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed creating it.

I was very privileged with this book in several ways. Firstly, is for the stunning cover image, designed by my gorgeous and talented fiancé, Willow Stancombe, who has a very beautiful eye for stunning photography. Thank you baby, it means so much that you support and help me. I will be working with Willow again on future endeavours that are currently in the ideas phase.

Secondly, I had the opportunity to work with my wonderful friend Nickie Shobeiry, who is a fantastic poet and journalist from Exeter, England. She contributed to the completion of all the Katautas within this book, and through her unique and beautiful voice, challenged and furthered my own words. If you don’t know her already, I highly recommend that you check her work out here. But, I thought I would be generous and include a couple of our collaborations here for your viewing pleasure.

Riverside train ride,
school girls, conductors and me,
locking eyes by accident.

Hitchcock waits for crows
to flock under noir spotlights,
are we strangers after all?


Fog on the kitchen
window, your loved fingerprints
lasted longer than you did.

Dissolved with fate, they
look towards what may be, free
horizons in crystal glass.

Thirdly, and most importantly… This book is dedicated to my younger brother, Nicholas. Who, for a long time, has been a great inspiration to me and has unknowingly helped me through some very hard times because of his strength and courage. He is truly a beautiful soul (and an unbelievably talented cook!). For several years Nicholas has battled his own demons in the form of severe depression, anxiety and OCD. He still battles these and through doing so shows a tremendous fountain of strength that he is often unaware of. Two years ago he finally came out to me about his sexuality… not that he needed too, because I’d always known, since he was very young. But for him this was a huge achievement because of his fears of what people may think, especially those close to him. He had no need to worry though and I couldn’t be more proud of him than I am over this.

Over the last few years, he has grown and “blossomed” into the biggest diva I’ve ever met, and he is so much happier for it. He is also in the process of setting up a support group, Light in the Closet, for the LGBT community in Warrington, England, where his rainbow reaches. This group will give support and a shoulder for any young adult, who like him, suffers as a result of people’s ignorance towards them. This also extends to those who are friends and family of the LGBT community. It is a fantastic thing he is trying to accomplish and he is a star for doing it! They can currently be found on Twitter (@LightCloset). So, in support of this, any royalties that I make on sales of this book (after Amazon and the tax man take their cut) will be given to this group to help with its formation and running, or another LGBT charity of his choosing. It’s the least I can do to show my brother how much I love him. I wish him and those involved with this all the luck in the world and my full support.

Sexuality and gender is still a touchy and taboo subject, even now in the twenty first century, but should this still be the case? Have we not advanced enough to see that love is love, no matter who it is for? I have seen many posts around social media sites in condemnation for the lives that people choose to live. This is such a shame and as a species we really need to start maturing. This is one of the reasons that I have decided to, in my own way, show that ignorance is not a suitable excuse for bigotry and intolerance anymore. And for those people that say “God hates gays” and that it is condemned in the bible… well… If this is the case then your God is a fake! Any celestial being that gave us all the gift of life, would not then condemn good people for loving those they choose. Any that does is no true God. God is love and beauty and life, no matter of sexual orientation or gender identity, race or religion. We all exist and are here, let’s make the world a better place for all life, not just our own. And as a species, through our humanity and humility, show that we have earned this remarkable gift.

And on that note, I will leave you to whatever is occupying you on this wonderful day.

My love to you all.

Untitled, 21st June 2015. (Day Five of the Five Photos, Five Stories Challenge… I know, I know, it’s late!)

*I owe apologies for not being able to complete this challenge on time, sometimes life gets in the way.But here, finally,is day five. I hope you enjoy it…*


Do we find divinity— between the antique saplings—
that curve in contradiction to the sturdiest squalls—
holding ghost of days gone by— rooted where they belong—
those shuddering fingers— track my vertebrae once more—
longing arises— to trace each scar— silver shadows— nightly threads—
I see the spectres in each leaf— turning green with envy of love—
walking away was never easy— decaying charm in summer conflicts—
but the night grew dark—I lost my path—
stumbling through infertile thoughts—

Poem © Phen Weston 2015


I was invited by the fantastically talented Lisa from Underground Energy to join the Five Photos last week, Five Stories Challenge: “Post a photo each day for five consecutive days and attach a story to the photo. It can be fiction or non-fiction, a poem or a short paragraph and each day nominate another blogger for the challenge”.

I honestly cannot decide who to pick today. I know that seems like such a fail on my part. But my question is… who would like to give this a go? Who has not already taken part and think they are up for the challenge? If you do then please, have a go, but make sure to send me the link so I can follow your work!

I hope you are all having a great weekend out there. And I wish you all a beautiful week to come. And stay tuned for a newly completed project soon!

Recordor Mortis Nostrae (Day Four of the Five Photos, Five Stories Challenge)



Remember that i had to die,
That endless days don’t fill the sky,
Where silken memories fall
Against the pillars we built up high.

Devotion killed our sins,
Blanketed the hate within
That built our walls in darker nights,
And sent us on follies flight.

Remember that you once lived,
That fondness placed her hands
Against your skin and kissed your nape
And drew you in to tenderness.

Were there broken wings?
To tender the hands of endearment,
Swaying in the gentle winds
Of inclination and our kindness?

Death asked for friendship,
Drew me close to her nurturing breast,
And touched my forehead
With slender fingers, blessed.

Her form searched the stars
To displace her wintery kiss,
Her hibernal feelings hid the warmth
Of her tender lissome abyss.

She took the name Memento Mori,
To show the world that there was more
Than empty streets on lonely roads,
Astray from extinct stormy odes.

We shifted and phased
From life in ways incomprehensible,
Uncompromising, uncomplicated,
Seeing all our times before us.

I saw your smile,
and shed your tears,
I devoured your love
And dissolved in your fears.

There were never simple times,
Each moment encased in all we find
In life to draw us to their strength,
And I saw your heart bleed the heavens.

Crying out the world’s we melt
Between for days, less and great,
Convincing myself to sleep again
Beneath our expiration…

Remember that i once lived,
That endless days permeate the sky,
Where silken memories infuse
the pillars we built up so high.

Remember that you had to die,
And in fondness my hands
Touched your skin, I kissed your nape,
And drew you in to tenderness.

You were my attainment,
My infatuation and atonement,
We walked the stars, body in body, soul in soul,
And death become our guide.

Poem © Phen Weston 2015


I was invited by the wonderful Lisa from Underground Energy to join the Five Photos last week, Five Stories Challenge: “Post a photo each day for five consecutive days and attach a story to the photo. It can be fiction or non-fiction, a poem or a short paragraph and each day nominate another blogger for the challenge”.

Who to choose today? There are so many wonderfull and talented poets, writers out there. It’s hard! But today I think I will choose Murrsma from Crone’s Corner. You are an amazing poet, and beautiful soul! I challenge you… unless you are otherwise engaged, busy, procrastinating, sleeping, or any other reason you wish to not participate, my friend, then I understand.