The Drowning Sea
The Death of Icarus
I’ve re-connected with my interest in abstract art. These are acrylics on canvas. The Midnight Trees has an under painting done in masking fluid and so it catches the light from various angles, quite unintentional I assure you.
Words and dodgy photographs © D. Archer . December 2015.
Has it always been like this?
inside this low, living headache
where everyone is closed or taken;
where the pressure is blinding
and the quiet assumptions are the worst.
The mirror lies,
I’m not the only one in this room
as the argument begins
“What lies beneath my ink stained skin?”
New Urban Landscape Design
The designed universe is in doubt
Everyone I have ever loved has left
Post Modern Garden
I have decided to start a new school of photography called “Crapism“, now don’t be fooled by the name my photos really are crap but I do like the subject matter. These buildings and service objects won’t be around forever and I feel it is my duty to show them in all their supernal glory.
Long live Crapism!
All crap photographs © D. Archer. November 2015
Holy Rood Church
A beautiful autumn afternoon and I have been out for a wander with my phone camera. Most of these were taken in my local park (Locke Park, Barnsley) apart from the two churches which were on my wanderings. through the centre of town.
Photographs © D.Archer. October 2015.
Here is a collection of photographs of my imaginary cat Alan and his two friends Hector and Chester. These photographs were taken shortly before they went on their holidays. They were not pleased at being made to sit still, not pleased at all.
© D. Archer. October 2015.
Tomorrow I will alphabetise the dust on my desk,
eat only food that begins with an ‘F’,
write the novel I haven’t started and
plant plastic vegetables in my imaginary garden;
I’ll create a spreadsheet of all my lost socks
and hold my breath as I stare at the clock,
tomorrow I will stop procrastinating
as soon as I’ve finished the list I’m making.
© D. Archer. October 2015. No humour intended.
The past gets heavier every day
for the man at the back of my imagination
who put the last of his heart
in a newspaper boat
and set it adrift on an unknown sea,
waiting to be rescued,
wanting to be held
like the love letter you’ve kept all these years,
the one you read when no one is watching,
the one with your tears
trapped in the discoloured crease.
© D. Archer. October 2015.
Photograph © D. Archer 2015
As close to death as to love
I lived with demons under my skin,
my swollen eyes leached stinging tears
into a void I would never fill.
© D. Archer. August 2015
Though she slipped from this life
like time through your fingers
never to be held again,
there is a star in the sky
that aches to fall,
to shelter you from the closing day.
Hold on to these thoughts,
take as long as you need,
keep only those that made you smile
and to the four winds
set all others free.
© D. Archer. March 2015