We slip against the starlight shores- A gathering of distance stands before those repaid dalliances- must it play those evermore- six string hearts and department store romances- for her heartbeat her refractive epiphany locked into our palimpsest- imbued in eloquence wrapped along the shifting veil of wondrous nightscapes- I wait- inshore for examples of remorse-... Continue Reading →

The Torment of Salmoneus

*By Rebecca Shapland and Phen Weston* Burning cold water licks his toes And the winds tug and pull at his clothes, Whisper with woe it’s too late it’s too late But he stands fast as an anchor, he watches and waits. The dawn squalls prick his thrifting heart Frozen to murmers, the sudden depart, Drives... Continue Reading →


The rain transplanted state of mind to fixtures of distinguished stretches, resistant to conformity and hallowed leaps, benign through requiems of healing found, Skylines six feet underground where life moved in golden shadows, the little drops, the augmented skin, soul's away today, waiting for inclination’s visualised within, without, legacy and collection, Simple smiles to awaken inner understanding,... Continue Reading →

Five Micropoems

We walled in legacy to dark waters, sky high in paradise, remembering nothing but crashing waves. *********************************** She married another man, but I transcend each promise, the patch work lingering of yesterday. *********************************** We drank ice tea at The Ritz talked of Woolf and a pocket full of stones all the while devouring words with... Continue Reading →

A Micropoem 

I walked winds where feathers fell as heavy rain, each droplet taken for lesser days, and I? I lived so many lives.    Poem © Phen Weston 2015

You Are the Silent Ocean

"Forgiveness is not always easy. At times, it feels more painful than the wound we suffered, to forgive the one that inflicted it. And yet, there is no peace without forgiveness." - Marianne Williamson    Swim off happier shores, I see no words for you to starve with agonising emotions held, I am the prisoner you... Continue Reading →

All Things Move Towards Their End

“She was given to me to put things right And I stacked all my accomplishments beside her Still I seemed so obsolete and small” - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds A painted fan with crimson tears floats on the wind of appetite, occasion approaching the backbone of gathering storm rekindled amid flickers of those... Continue Reading →

Create a free website or blog at

Up ↑