The Ballad of Henry Hughes

There once was a girl
from north of the border
who sent me money by postal order
and though I couldn’t wash her pans or pots,
touch her blankets or door knobs,
she touched my life from miles away
and I miss her
like it was yesterday.


© D. Archer. January 2016


Love lies in the roughest sea,
in the smallest hours,
in a one oared boat,
not in the anonymous promises
of those that lure in calm waters
as sirens circle in the undertow;
soon the unwinding begins
the rope that proffers salvation
forms a seductive silk noose around your neck
and be it by category or allegory
the search for your lungs in another
will only one day leave you
out of breath.

© D. Archer. January 2013. Tweaked in February 2015.

History Lessons

As new disciples gather
in idyllic adoration
to marvel at the neck of the virgin swan,
be mindful of those that bring nothing to the table
but want everything in return;
be careful who next petitions your heart,
sail through their paper-thin veiled verbs
and as you search
remember the last mast
you bound your colours to
was broken beyond
even you to nurse.

© D. Archer. September 2012. Tweaked February 2015

Uxbridge English Dictionary

The Uxbridge English Dictionary is designed to clear up misunderstandings surrounding the actual meaning of words commonly found in the English Language.

For example: PROPAGANDAto stare at an object intently.

You get the idea.


The Morrissey the More I forget!

The trouble with
This Charming Man when
trying to write poetry
listening to your iPod
at the same time

is that there is no Joy
Division in the New Order
of The Beautiful South;

The Morrissey
the more I forget
all my Stevie Wonder thoughts
come to nought;

I feel like The Jam on
a Jimmy Cliff sandwich;
my words Wither like Bill;
tears Weller in my eyes like Paul;

If I knew The Cure
I would Johnny Cash in all
my words
for one minute
with or without

© Copyright D. Archer October 2011 

This poem is also called “The curse of trying to write Poetry when listening to your iPod at the same time”, it’s like a driving your car and trying to do your ironing at the same time, impossible for me anyway..





Every now and then I surprise myself with an original thought that actually makes sense.

When asked why I write so much “poetry” I came to the conclusion that writing, for me, really is a fantastic escape, a chance to connect, to travel, to remember, to imagine, to accept what has passed then to ignore it all in the same sentence all without ever leaving my desk.

Poetry for me is an enriching subject be it reading the giants of the medium or shouting obscenities at the obvious.

Alas my poetry won’t alleviate the poverty of my bank balance but the more I read the richer I become.

Word and Pictures © D. Archer. August 2013.

A prayer on the eve of War

A prayer on the eve of War. Copyright D. Archer 2013

A prayer on the eve of War. Copyright D. Archer 2013

I wrote the poem a while ago now and then realised it somehow fit quite nicely with the woodcut of Eric Gill that I tried to emulate a few weeks ago. The original image is called “The Soul and the Bridegroom” and as with all of Gill’s woodcuts they convey such depth and beauty. A typographer, printer, artist, sculptor and a man of many hats (and other vices). Plus, this is as close to Valentine’s day mush as I will venture this year.