xxrSo what's it all about?

ww49-year-old ordinary bloke, still in possession of own hair and teeth, seeks readers for his slightly less ordinary poetry.
wwIf you've got this far then you can take it that you've been mugged for the job.
wwPoetry, in the classic definition of Nigel Molesworth, is cissie stuff that rhymes. Except that mine doesn't. My lyrics do . . . sort of.

wwLet's cut to the chase . . .

wwI usually put a recent epic on the home page. It's likely to be about France (where I live) or even in French , music, weird personal stuff
wwor just plain surreal. If you survive it, you can probably find other little gems on this site, despite the kindergarten standard of web design.
wwYou may even like them. So here we go . . .

wwStar update 1 March 2010: bbbbwwwwwLatest poem: Toy planes, grown men 7 July 2010

wAlways the sea wfor Claire

You are my blue sea and grey sea
my concealer of rainbows,
my solitary bird dividing
the splinters and pictures of water,
my seahorse disturbing the graces
of curving and thoughtful sand,
weighing and stripping my spectrum
of hues and coding and words;
you, between the shallows of time

wwAnd now . . .

wwIf you're still with the story so far, you might like to go straight to:

ww

wwShould you be shocked, stunned, amazed, appalled or otherwise moved to comment, you can always try eddie@eddiecastellan.com

wwAll poems and other texts on this site are the copyright of Richard Edward Hugh Castellan 2009