Henry is a poet, writer and mental health essayist based in Somerset. In the UK. His work has featured previously in Impspired.

Poet on a Pushbike

Progress is poor as the poet on a pushbike 
turns through treacle with wheels that sound of rust. 
While ghosts of Plath and Pound prepare 
polymorphic verse to enrich an earth 
riven with tangerine blare, 
spinning spokes of jagged thought
whirl in ruinous rumination. 

A head full of fibrous filaments.
seeking solace in cobalt calm.

The sudden zest of a sunlit shard.
A golden clang from a suspended orb.
The distant howl of Ginsberg’s cat. 
The jab of a piercing light.
The solar flare moment to ride into the night.

Anxious Poets…Have Poetic Anxiety

Anxious poets browse the small bookshop 
trying to 
allay the fear 
that their latest collection is not selling.

They talk of a 
cut and paste existence 
where their days are split into transposable tasks.

They muse at each other over 
fractured dialectic
and discursive discourse,
which means nothing to us.

Anxious poets have real worries too,
convincing themselves that one 
side of their hair 
grows quicker than the other.

Anxious poets impose a personal coffee allowance, 
and when their thinking gets
riddled with too many thoughts,
they lapse into lassitude,
which to normal people 
means they feel mentally tired.

And, of course, they engage in
endless reflection

But what sets them apart is their art, 
where a string bag full of oranges
produces a free-flowing verse,
dripping with colour
and tasteable words
thus simultaneously assuaging their soul.

So until they see their next critical review,
The anxious poets gather together 
and drink Côtes du Rhône.