A Performance Poet specialising in Immersive Theatre and collaborative performance experiences. Curator of Spoken Word Events, Digital Media enthusiast for scotche.gg and Youth Project Field Worker for WritingWestMidlands.org.

Festival Fever

Scroobius Pip blessed me with an opportunity to perform on his mighty satin lizard lounge stage over the Weekend at Bestival 2013, what better place to deliver festival fever to the crowd :)

Thank you so much to all that listened and hopefully enjoyed it.



Never before has passions description been placed on my lips as non-fiction,
And as my eyes rise its difficult to prize,
A centre away from yours.

Your breath is my oxygen,
In the moment, without it
My wings may break.

Though now shielded by yours,
Secured before an angels eyes
Stares into my soul.

My hearts weighted, elated,
This world didnt show me happiness.
The flutter rests.

Carresses replace it,
Strengths pounding with this founding,
With fire on blankets of ice on Dovedale.

A phenominal love tale.
Snow angels found the missing halo’s,
When we carved heavens in ice dust.


Porlock Hill

Sounds of the air corrupt the trees,
Winding roads match sharpness in the wind,
And the climb sinks mountains into misty water.
The coves exsist in imagination, More


The Doors the Cover


Living in paper towers
On a desk that doesnt think
Watching written speech get bolder.

They mean more when in a letter
The pens engravement causes shadows
As the suns rays blaze and bathe her.

My book of room will follow
Eventually I’ll run to heaven
I close my eyes a longer blink
My glowing lids a smiling craven.

The imaginations like a feather
floating over pictures
piled high in towered treasures.