Freighter and other poems

by Andrew Taylor



Journeys that follow
old routes
invisible mapped
by satellites

freight box carried
through zones

buy the organic
and gold top milk
skipping early

lanes lead directly
to paths near rivers
charted walked

patch of grass temporary
camp quickly
assembled picnic

the place to which
to return



early hours feel
by one it will be time

enough to think through
& track

bring the birthday bottle back
open & consume

soon enough a pattern
of recognition & names

will emerge

beat in time the embrace
offers proof

a shared month

the planting of trees
it is the season

hide the widening road
blanket the ridge



11.30 a.m.
Raisin or Roisin
Post-its posters
spiced smell of cold
teapot must conform
to cleanliness
radiator off
blinds closed
clouds heavy
the blue enamel mug
Tristesse Myrrh
between glass Venetian
blinds locked open
email off Nils
photo of the inside of
a building in Liverpool
communal kitchen
door posters
travel west
sanctuary of services
if only for ten minutes

paisley French Grey
a glass of beer
clothes on
the picture rail
a case half-emptied
medical box
bare trees


Mello Mello Haiku

Lemon on Lime Street
Artists Depot Slater Street
steaming cup of tea

Counter coffee sacks
on table tops fresh flowers
window framed shadows



Cool Roller

dust shatters in wake
        trackside weeds bow
purple yellow primary colours

hidden copse activity

low tide
        canal is full

slowly release

girl in shorts connected
        tennis net like fence

under cloudy skies
        sheep shelter under oak

reverse journey blind
        evening sun creeps
across shed on damaged fields

tilt long shadows
        fade behind scattered grey
and whites

fullness of borders attempted
        crop circles

shoot into the sun
        expected flare

smattering of poppies
it fits together

curvature of Watford Gap
        southern stop

housing estate trackside
        pathways zones unmapped
derestricted band of cloud

Boil of sunset circle of sheep
        empty feeder
fuel of coolness
march of pylons

alternative route follow the ravens
        sod the canal boats
is two hours eight minutes
quick enough?

support roads empty
        steam from skirted towers

ridge non-indigenous silhouette
        plate layer’s hut

when it turns to shit shall I turn to it?

the beauty of the welfare van
        flasked tea packed lunch

take a tiffin tin

day of abstract expressionism
        stood in front of satellite view of earth

leaving of station excitement look
        for the green light


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Andrew Taylor is a Liverpool born, Nottingham based poet. He is a lecturer in English and Creative Writing at Nottingham Trent University. His debut collection, Radio Mast Horizon is published by Shearsman Books. Publications are forthcoming from Like This Press and VerySmallKitchen.  http://www.andrewtaylorpoetry.com

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photo by Angela M Campbell


Pure Phase and other poems

by Andrew Taylor

Pure Phase


Ship the desk

          beach house rental

set tape rolling

          delicate insects avoid movement


keep the gas lit

           meter reversal


shallow water candles

mad dog at the door

hole in the bathroom wall


from the docks sound

         dwelling mixed shared


like a Christmas drink

a patterned carpet


speakers raised ship’s chest

untold stories from the city


that smell from the sea


First Wings


Snow gathered

red cross green arrow


like the toll booth

approach at midnight


it encloses drops

like a trickster


salt clears route

floodlights deflect

columns a permanent




beyond production

logistics warehousing


its thickened air paths

of ghosts lead forward


spooks suddenly


a roadside cat


Slow Connection


So I think of boxes

usefulness and leaving


Reaching beyond the scope

those walkways look ancient

concrete has aged


Second cup of coffee sinks in

the 9.48 moves me


A line to embrace

     England’s green and pleasant

its motorway network adds the soul


Necessary cocoon preferable

carpet pattern is nicer

suits the mood


Physical context furniture

makes all the difference


drain the cup imagine the grounds



Mist House


Solitary cut



headlights into



half light

twin lanes


hedgerow curve

revelation of

mist house


lit from within






28 August 2011


She sticks stickers

     on notebooks that

she will inherit


like clear skies

     that turn to cloud

it’s necessity


dig through sand seek lines

     make camp


verge offers opportunity

     west coast mainline


shortening days leaf

     silhouettes against roofs


picnic near parks

     picnic in motorway service areas

reverb a snare


harvest home

     an M1 trajectory



Arc Light


Third rail flakes as if it’s been

attacked by acid crumbles

like ten year old denim


wait for autumn puddles

for grey reflection

warehouses and frames of engineless



shades of digital distortion

the layers are intentional

you have to dig

even by arc light rewards

are there



Andrew Taylor is a Liverpool poet and co-editor of erbacce and erbacce-press. His latest pamphlet is ‘The Lights Will Inspire You’ (Full of Crow: Oakland) was published in spring 2011. Poems have recently appeared or are about to appear in Poetry Wales, Red Fez, Mad Rush, The Ten Pages Press Reader III and Rain Dogs. He has a PhD in poetry and poetics and currently teaches creative writing at Edge Hill University.


photo by Kristi Harms


Radio and other poems

by Andrew Taylor



studio apartment pianist

composes notates

the dinner is delivered


Love is the available transport

courtyard is thoughtful


loft ballet dancer gives

a low

warm laugh


the street is fogged in

radio brings silence





From the cottage window wild deer

roamed paused took a look at the honeymoon couple

concerned with keeping warm


Isolation of the finest kind morning

leads to evening

slow paced      like the Lilac Time

spending summer playing tennis


rescued from routine excitement

loss purged

she appears fresh from Italy with desire

and the knack of making coffee

a rescue act    from the decimation of parted angels


she made him believe in the stars once more


city-centre hotel the turn of the millennium

the river slate coloured       tidal


she watches gardening programmes

and eats room service


a warm welcome after returning from

the hip party

through Mathew street’s madness


the room looks like a shoot from Vogue



The Rainbow


Wood takes two

and a half hours


Paper is product


small talk

over ravioli


battery holds its charge


I’ve seen how

she looks at you


It’s how I look at her


fingers leave marks

there will be DNA


should the rains fall

we will be protected


Don’t be afraid of

the good in this world


Midland corridor

calm window

motorway curve


track takes me to you


December visit my streets


your streets


I walk them to remember

and buy the music


to gift to connect



Cashpoint on Platform 7


nine lines carved

there is a message in that


return with whiskey

an hour tasting tears


Auto switch off





Against the snow the scarf is spectacular it is frozen


Feed the ponies polos an afternoon walk

making own steps heels dance red

bitten fences worn down path


the goat is not in the garden the shed is locked

I’ll look for the first sign of flowers

metal has replaced the arching wood


I asked for a replica a photograph will do



Touch Tour


It makes you think differently about art

It makes you use your brain

and it keeps working even after you have left


cool evening power

clouds angle at odds


leaves fall like light snow

gather centre road


a crushed conker

investigated by sparrow


gloss from rain

reflective light


there is temperature change

a future of dust


to be washed away

on river’s tide


after hibernation

a return



Millers Bridge


Demolished churches warehouses empty

below the brow water calm

ship docked against sunset

Belfast bound with the tide





Andrew Taylor is a Liverpool poet and co-editor of erbacce and erbacce-press. He has a full collection of poems forthcoming from Shearsman. He supports Everton FC.

Photo by Eleanor Bennett


Pacing Call and other poems

by Andrew Taylor

Pacing Call

Like glass in a turned field
it is recognition of shift

I prefer Tarmac in relaid
car parks at twilight

with the evening calls of birds
the sharing of information

becomes priority

Digging in the heap

twilight estate              white PVC
offers the illusion of Switzerland
Blackbirds search for roost

Sssh birds it’s time for bed
once when I was here
fireworks  kept me awake

like cotton gathered in Velcro
you offer reminders

To sleep in the cellar      in winter
is cold      especially without heat

Circular brick           patterns of bridges
glide of light      remnant of spring sun
over the docks

after a slow start
Cherry blossoms reach peak
the spiders are yet to leave

The cobbler is a bastard
the shoes are returned

The tree surgeon was impressed
by the coppicing of the hazel

Lights switched on early
offer guidance past
danger of the rail

cloud cover masks the best
of the day which masks eventual


Do not close
the blind

tide catches
late sun

spreads among

buildings catch
glow slowly

before dark
balcony view

Do not sniff
the umbrella

scents long gone

railings silvered
salt attached

blue brown fade

cotton returned
to ground

Cool Harvest

They’ve built a wall
around the garden
we sat in twenty four years ago

Does the dirt remain the same?

The square is revamped
glitter cobblestones
in late summer sun

same river different swans

Waterside steps flood
markers video footage
walk towards town

September sound season
travel amongst ancient roses
Geography of intent

like a silent wind farm
you are here without movement

Leaves pressed against a fence
visible yet untouchable

Harvest of acorn
like a junction halt
wait for connection

machines do the work
the archive is incomplete


Rails rust through cuttings toward the city
nature plays – even hand
shadow buddleia to act
and grasp a hint of daylight

Trap Point

It gets busier
I’m thinking of your green dress
Toxic tags they paint at night
like engineers

the best they can hope for
is draping plants

Pick speed up fast track
Oh destination I love your history


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Andrew Taylor is a Liverpool poet and editor of erbacce and erbacce-press. After several pamphlets, his debut collection Radio Mast Horizon was published by Shearsman in January 2013. www.andrewtaylorpoetry.com

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diane grondin 4

Photo by: Diane Grondin