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Apr 20 · 82
In to Blue
A W Bullen Apr 20
Under this
is nothing new


over my dead bodyweight
the sky reprises peace...

Though trauma grows its
root in dream,

I clover on a pearl
of sleep

upended by
a tender sun


falling into

?  once,
Mar 24 · 169
A W Bullen Mar 24
sleepy gathers

in the bombed-out
church of expectation,

fundamental frequencies

too cynical to pray

the senses crave

I worship
from afar

these days,

when everything
that's ever loved

leaves something else

Feb 25 · 186
A W Bullen Feb 25
Old skin,

I swore,
I would not make

But here I claw
In all my flaking majesty...

Some sordid Lord
of  all Misrule,

a gruelling fool

to pitiful anatomy...
Feb 17 · 113
Some Golden Ratio
A W Bullen Feb 17
Shouldered cold
bent deep in grims of collar
turns to maddened hash
of blustered sleet

the walk to wear
is work itself,

A solemn
adamantine morning, pleads
me to ignore the well of failing
human kindness,

by this hand I try
to see

predicaments of alder
whip lacuna from the
mindless face

that beauty
is but symmetry

thus ,crudely overrated

and then again
there's Winter Jasmine,

understated, famined stem
emblazoned with the gemstones
of its flower

now the winter sour, sweetens
cracks the lip a timid noise

pouring forth,
some golden ratio,

sulphur trill of banished voice
Jan 20 · 183
A W Bullen Jan 20
The hearth had yet
to warm a toe, an hour
before the paling

The rain had gone

now comes the cold

profound, inactive ,cold

Assumed a duelling clarion
across the mustered aerials,,

slung, humboldt in the jangled dark,
In the hush of these ice-bound mornings,
sound travels,
The local lesser-black backs have
a regular tear-up with a couple of herons
that kip down by the frozen willow,
On low-pressure mornings, it's all a bit windy
and lost
In the cold-high-overs it hovers
forever, cupping the lowland with voice
Dec 2023 · 215
rounding The Hope
A W Bullen Dec 2023
the being, surly murks,
hobbles, heart-bulb hurt,
in furtive mist,

fields of the falling mind, pine
sight-less in a fog-banked shawl,
lured, hurriedly by nothing
more than fear

-I will still believe, it's somehow, there-

that sailboat
with seabird halos

gliding, dearly
down the dusk

with just enough
to love
Nov 2023 · 266
A W Bullen Nov 2023

Your kin still fly
uncaged and called

young November sky
                   scored countless

      For three high days they came
                                     great in massing
                       climbing, radiant
                       fire-milk lariats

           gaps in blaming
rain pursued.

When leaf-cull doors
                      low fruit to fall

                implores the motley
      parkland bronze

Your kin will fly
                     uncaged and called

Your legacy
lives on.
Extraordinary flocks of Wood pigeon over Cardiff, called to mind the story of the Passenger pigeon.
Nov 2023 · 876
A W Bullen Nov 2023

from the parapets

a rorschach night
laid out below

If mine
is but a little while

then yours is not
for me to know

so, glittering
away, we leapt

from all convention

golden folklores

with our whispering
of owls
Oct 2023 · 384
A W Bullen Oct 2023
We'll tell the Keepers
of the gates
that guard our varied heavens

-we weren't engaged in cruel crusades-

we just supplied the weapons-
Oct 2023 · 151
A W Bullen Oct 2023
has banked,
-grown little teeth-,
portentous new alignments
meet , exaggerated,
weather veined,
behind impatient

Flames divine
entrancing shivers
breath, a ghost
an omen passed,
fragments carried,
Icy river

She dances
Oct 2023 · 244
The bloke upstairs
A W Bullen Oct 2023
All I've seen
are legs

of the bloke

believe me,
they are snappable

I've knocked
his door

he doesn't

my calm
with his
bass enhancer


I'm an affable
kind of guy,
but ..

this ******
is testing my

I want him
to die

Not so he rots
in a puddle of snot

-I still claim a frisson of feeling-

plus I don't want the hell
of that festering smell
or the pain of repainting
the ceiling...

I don't try
to be mean,
to stir-up a scene
but the grinning is
hard to pretend,

so I'll sit on my hands
and mutter those plans
for that thin *******
to end.
Oct 2023 · 161
A W Bullen Oct 2023
Pre somnabulation
I would taste the breeze

the dew-lit louche
revealing airborne revelations

soft of foot, divining
cool uncomplication

drinking deeply of
the hill-born wood

passive eccentricity,
I celebrated unison

a humbling becoming
only dignity condones

When transitory laxity
forgave my foreign callowness

I took the private brook
to where the quiet rooks row home..
once  upon-a -time

louche/ absinthe
Oct 2023 · 172
Out of focus
A W Bullen Oct 2023
All this life
has left me staring,
passed me by as I was standing,
hands in pockets, thinking,
planning, something
I'm unsure of.
Sep 2023 · 217
Bone Idols
A W Bullen Sep 2023
Long time - no sea

and feelings of the ocean-pull
have gained the upper hand,

There is nothing here
in writing,

just pigeon- breasted
increasing stipulations

All that meadowsweet
and moonshine ran,
to desert sand androgony

sank lower
than the daily dip
of fire's head in middle distance

Dizzy social densities
imported inner-city syndromes
proffer only impotence
of temporary reprieve

seems hard to bed
the disenchanted,
sickening for cigarettes
for solitary epithets


So, hide away
demands that breed
the need to know the answers

Been peeking
round the prism bars
empowered sense of self defeat

For sugared-melon hedonism
far too many lines have soured


Long time - no sea...
Aug 2023 · 346
A W Bullen Aug 2023

needs trimming,


beseeches management,
preventions of digression


I know these abled tangents,

-peculiar obsessions-

how they float up, moon- mouthed,
dream-lacquered vagrants,

Superlative deliverers
of profligate insistence

Their cool what-ifs

the vacant-eyed

excited by this delicate
There are creatures
in the deep that we should
keep beneath the waves
Jul 2023 · 538
The Boys
A W Bullen Jul 2023
The trick is
to break the fall,

prepare soft landings

roll forward with
some standing joke,

calling-in the softball laughter

drawing on that coruscating
excellence of company

the fool congeniality
we coaxed in all conditions

We'll repeat this to ourselves
as we go about our

Time will take the evidence,
possessions from the locker

but nothing is forgotten

as you're always
with The Boys..
Ryan Foley, friend and colleague - lost to us on Friday 7th July- never forgotten-
Jun 2023 · 353
A W Bullen Jun 2023


Is there a peace,

a deep and swirling peace?

does that fabled light leave
the body ,released
from an anguish
of gravity

Can it be that you
are there?


outside these
small perceptions

even after all this time
the questioning

is this just me
Jun 2023 · 331
Get out, Claws!
A W Bullen Jun 2023
So you identify
as a cat,...

I'm alright with that

come in through the flap
in the back door ,

eat jellied meat from a bowl on the floor

crap in a tray or lay
cables in neighbours
back yards

Shouldn't be hard to tell

you're a cat

Beeline to your feline kin, slapping
the thatch off a whiskery chin
and yowling like grief

treating your mates
to a corpse of a bird
that you hold In
your teeth

lie on the sack
with your tongue in your crack

and I'll back you're a cat

But I think you'll change

in fact,

I'm willing to bet

When you're not so busy,
oh, little Miss Frisky

We're taking a trip
to the vet
just seen a bus load of reality heading South-need to get out there and turn it around- enough of this *******!
May 2023 · 370
A W Bullen May 2023


bombastic, love/ hate sprayed, whatevers,
beer-stained brutalist underpass

the lake, a paper-mill, stink of pulp-steam,
dog-**** minefield ,fast-food cartons

park-and-riding, egg-fried verges
turgid outflow,

Down this squeezed tube,
of dead algorithm n' *****,
blue-green algea ,wetland gangrene,

come Nightingales..

Meliflous revelry,

distinctive dichotomy,

obvious opposite


Beneficent Mediterranean
medicine chugged via
secretive syrinx



sweet unplugged jugular

thick cut clarity, every
note a pearl-dropped hope for muddled

ditches, creeks and jetties, broken
wings of football pitches

blood of oak and bluebell
soaking smoke above the muddied tracks

and clearing,

clearing all
before their song
Mar 2023 · 404
Spring Lane
A W Bullen Mar 2023
were once
the Spring

Easter voices climbing
from a namesake lane

Early risers,
Windmill limbed and finding
out our simple selves

Nimble, skinny
twitten skippers, wile-aways,
unburdened, burning, spotless
in our pheasant- feather gold.

One decade undecayed
brought all the stories ever needed

One decade undecayed
before the innocent
were sold
Feb 2023 · 285
A W Bullen Feb 2023
husks of things
hollowed out and sickening
for nourishment

mystically redundant

raised to graze on empty calories,

spineless fluids puking
endless effluent
of chosen pronouns

Influence biology

Identity a bracelet taken
on and off at will, by
Pop-up preachers,
screeching out
their digital misogyny,

Narcissistic troglodytes,
who, prancing in their
jettison the Suffragette

there's no such noun as Woman,
Helen Reddy-or not,

Forgotten sacrifice of troops
has stooped to this..

Time to decontaminate

shall I tell you
of the Snowdrops
that are showing,
by the garden gate?
do not feed the unicorns
Feb 2023 · 313
A W Bullen Feb 2023
it begins..

tiptoes down the bantam
skin, one bird awake

water holds both
cold and oldness
somehow fresh

and freezing air
grows, unaware

that yesterday

A lorry carries
off the stars

The barking dog



insistent as the car
alarming movement
at the window
Feb 2023 · 233
A W Bullen Feb 2023
was a virtue
gentle and benign,
she offered up her qualities

but no-one had the time..
Jan 2023 · 218
A W Bullen Jan 2023
this crest
a learn of words

From the ruby
throated humming
burns a burst of brittle
somethings loved

as we remember
better times,
from vicious
days that were...

At the falling
of its maker,
promise ends

for the bravest
of our betting
is but pennies
in the fountain

take a moment
to attend the honour
promises deserve

then return into the light,
a brighter soul...
If we are not careful can collapse in on itself.
To some, in the darkened hemisphere, it can be like standing barefoot in a bucket of cold water staring down the bleak North wind, salted eyes, seeing nothing more than an accident of birth.

Divorce and suicide rates run high in this first of months.

Nothing, is always, as , always is nothing and we were born to feel something in between the birth and death of everything.
Sensorial, corporeal, our matter is a moment  to no-one  but our minds.

Be careful in/out there...

Mind how you go
Dec 2022 · 975
A W Bullen Dec 2022
My trepid step
has long abandoned
carefree whips of youth,

Thus, gingerly I test
the bridge for traction,

A full beam darkness
buckles back
the harness of my shame

ever older bones
across this gaunt canal
fleshing the knuckle of the conversation that started with, "The bridge, by me is ****** with ice"
Caution is a boomerang, that, once thrown- may disappear for years- but it will return, and return hard-  
For me, it's in my early 50's- approaching a decking bridge, slick with ice, reaching into my pocket  and thinking "****!, where did that boomerang come from?"

I crossed the bridge- it was pathetic- thank the Lord and all his bearded chums, it was dark...
Dec 2022 · 304
A W Bullen Dec 2022

with a rueful
little smile,

swept the weeks
into a pile

of a year
gone by...
Nov 2022 · 529
A W Bullen Nov 2022
They'll give me a page
present me a pen

but I'll draw my
own conclusions
Oct 2022 · 253
A W Bullen Oct 2022
in peace

this gull-bone light,
to beechwood feasting

And may it be
a paper ship,

our languages
of liberty
borne sea-ward
by the falling water

to mean the World
for those who languish,
foamed in contemplation

from their tree-top
forts to bid the fond
Oct 2022 · 402
A W Bullen Oct 2022
I have
not forgotten


purring, from
the parching tree

Your unassuming
crooning wooed
the willows
of an older



summer songs
of Solomon

A single sweet monotonony
dependable as harvest store

came summoning the daysleep
word delectable.
Aug 2022 · 512
The Hiding
A W Bullen Aug 2022
The form
the flux,
the constant

the duty,
the running
of motors,

the quotas,
the breadline,
the rising
and shining

the hiding
a stupefied look
in your eyes
Aug 2022 · 424
The art of letting-go
A W Bullen Aug 2022
There is an art to letting-go,
A craft, I hurt to master

I've asked the four-winds
what they know

But haven't heard
their answer
Jul 2022 · 394
A W Bullen Jul 2022

never see
the likes of this

The day

only evening has,
in orange bloods..

dancing by the castle turrets-

scarlet mixing fuchsia pinks

sinking into psyche ...

How joyously
we raised our arms
raised our arms and sang,

sang deep into the starlit mirth
of everything we ever were

and ever dared to be...
Jul 2022 · 366
A W Bullen Jul 2022
new words
to see
it through.

a pseudo
grown easy
on the eyelet,
fits, apparently

the derelict
it cannot be
this much is all

The All, we are
to ever have
and less the time
to take

Seems aeons
since the badlands
let, their Agincourt
of arrowheads,

projecting from
the epicentred
of Your

a softer
than before

yet, pertinent,
as ever


back to you
Jul 2022 · 280
In Absentia
A W Bullen Jul 2022
In this
growing tired
of my kind

noting doltish
bovine, influence
as drivers of despair,

I fair

To think
my smaller feeling
called the villagers
to prayer,

two hundred
miles East of here
In wealds of hop and apple..

I wring these
calloused grapples, well,

aware of my atrocities

confiding to be someone else,

sometime away from this
May 2022 · 380
The Watch
A W Bullen May 2022
'Tis a tyrannous
horology that haunts
the lighthouse keeper's watch,
the turning beam he mans alone
splits night for but a single beat.
His thoughts are nothing more than mist
a slow condensing of the airs
that form about his rising chair
and chill his idle feet .
Apr 2022 · 309
A W Bullen Apr 2022
The house bound head
had heard the news

old-money descant
dipped in dog-rose

Tuning forks
for goat-foot Gods
curating song
bedazzled zones

The crown
emblazoned sink estate
retained the annual Pilgrim's rite

round every door
bore cherry blossom white
Mar 2022 · 655
A W Bullen Mar 2022
I was going
to text you

to let you know
I have your phone

but I have your phone,
so I couldn't text you,

but I guess you
didn't know...

I tried
to call you

you were out,

left a message
for you, bro..

like, I said,
I have your phone..
Mar 2022 · 275
A W Bullen Mar 2022
all those
Russian tanks

why are boys at
Lockheed Martin
popping corks
and dancing

like there's
greenbacks to
be gained...?
amid the filth of war, rest assured, that someone, somewhere is getting minted.
Feb 2022 · 859
A W Bullen Feb 2022
I note
the bird sings

but does not
sing for me
Feb 2022 · 442
A W Bullen Feb 2022
will be a
low colt prayer/
a player's prayer of
sayings dark anointed,

sliding in
to new existence-

trailing disappointment,
from the one that went before

At this
appointed juncture

I am more
or less
the same..

my un-angelic
angles grind
in uninspired

from this
I seek a mealy sway,
a speck of strength to recollect

exhilarating dialects
my lovers deigned to speak..
the irony of finding inspiration through being uninspired
Feb 2022 · 280
Givin' Bob the Bird
A W Bullen Feb 2022
So I gave Bob Dylan
a Greylag Goose

( for his wildfowl collection)

I phoned him and asked
what the bird was up to
and he started to reply,

" The Anser, my friend..."

- get the folk outta here, Bob!
Jan 2022 · 855
duck bored
A W Bullen Jan 2022
Today is a duck
sort of day,

grey and windy
with waves
on lakes..

good for choppy,
not so great for

but ducks find ways...

to our
stuck look,
they're doing
duck-type stuff,

just as
the text book said


while they paddle
are they pondering
their station in the universe

expanding on the mysteries
of bread.
Dec 2021 · 309
The Breach
A W Bullen Dec 2021
A gunshot
splits the air

whip-like across
the back of morning,

milling rooks
erupt in flight
exploding out
the tall, thin, tree

has been tangled with,

a rabbit scarpers
for the warren ,
breaking, frantic
to evade
those hands
that shatter peace.

Those nameless
hands that claim the day
that rob the complex
of its store,

Those heartless
eyes that aim out life
that blackened eye
that flames the roar

What vow
knows iron twinned
with flesh,

what conscience
has this beast.

in deprivation are

The hands
that shatter peace
Dec 2021 · 389
A W Bullen Dec 2021
how cold
it's grown

now I
cannot feel
your hands..
Dec 2021 · 711
first snow
A W Bullen Dec 2021
As I recall
we watched together,

turning off
the upstairs light

we huddled by our
landing window.

under burgundy

We stared across
the road, toward

that solitary
street lamp

both silenced,
by the wonder
of it all...

So when
the first flakes fall

I become that child,
once more,

my face behind
the curtain

forehead pressed
to freezing glass,

being careful
with the breathing..

living only
for the quiet snow

some part of me
expecting you
to be here
Dec 2021 · 236
A W Bullen Dec 2021
And I shall
flinch the brittle creature
from the rock face

with frightening

to your glorious embrace,
I must comply,

vulturine, delirious
impervious to pain

near that place
between excitement
and all possible regret

I will go by
Nov 2021 · 491
A W Bullen Nov 2021
into the mirror

there was
nothing staring
back at me

could be
I'm free

could be
I'm free
Nov 2021 · 275
Closing Time
A W Bullen Nov 2021
Leaning more to
Winter now,

I set a silent
time aside

become a thing

led in and out
of twilights.

This vintner's loss
of glass-blown height,

too intricate
to comprehend,

like promises
we occupy,

leads meaning
to an end.
Nov 2021 · 652
A W Bullen Nov 2021
if from

a dimple
of that far-off laughter

ripples through
the wavered spaces

than it used to be

Nov 2021 · 615
A W Bullen Nov 2021
our culture
of elusive truth

my faith
in doubt
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