Brian Bilston's Poetry Laboetry

Hello brave subscriber, Welcome to my first newsletter, a naive and futile attempt to escape from the horrors of social media: the lack of safety controls; the endless ads; AI; the ‘influencers’; the political agendas of the lunatics who run these platforms; and the messages which say things like “You’re eligible! Start earning with content monetisation today!” Monetisation The advert…

Refugees They have no need of our helpSo do not tell meThese haggard faces could belong to you or meShould life have dealt a different handWe need to see them for who they really areChancers and scroungersLayabouts and loungersWith bombs up their sleevesCut-throats and thievesThey are notWelcome hereWe should make themGo back to where they came fromThey cannotShare our foodShare our homesShare…

I’m out and about reading poems at various literary festivals this week, starting with Leek on Wednesday, then Chester on Thursday. They’re both sold out but there are still tickets available for my show at the Nottingham Poetry Festival on Saturday should that be of interest to you. Tickets for that are on sale here:…

What Don Corleone Did Next upon retiringfrom the mafia he wove aquatic mammalsout of raffia let me tell youhow I learnt this news: he made me an otterI could not refuse

The Problem of Writing Poems in Hot Weather The problemof writingpoemsinhot weather isthatthe wordsgetsweatyand sticktogether.

UK people … here’s a nice thing from my publisher: the Great Big Brian Bilston Bundle Giveaway*. It’s a chance to win copies of my books plus 2 free tickets to a show near you. Alternatively, you could just buy those things. Or even more alternatively, not buy those things at all. It’s completely up to you. Anyway, here’s the link: https://www.panmacmillan.com/brian-bilston-bundle-giveaway *…

The Last Bee  After the last  ee had  uzzed its last  uzz, the  irds and the  utterflies did what they could.   ut soon the fields lay  are, few flowers were left, nature was  roken, and the planet  ereft. 

This is Not the Poem I Had Hoped to Write This is not the poem I had hoped to writewhen I sat at my desk and the page was white.You see, there were other words I’d had in mind,yet this is what I leave behind. I thought it was a poem to eradicate war;one of such power, it would heal all the soresof a world torn apart by conflict and schism.But it isn’t. Lovers, I’d imagined, would quote from it…

Life of a Naturalist it’s his birthdayand the sloths are up early for oncethe flamingos line up in pink, long-legged salutethe birds of paradise parade in their finestthe elephants blow their trumpetsthe blue whales gush with joythe gorillas act out stories of his visitsthe lions lay off the wildebeest for one dayand stand together on the Serengeti plainthe lyre birds sing his voice in…

Much to my surprise, some of my shows this year are on the verge of selling out. You may need to get your rollerblades on if you plan to come to any of the following, which have fewer than 50 tickets remaining: 9May: FILEY Literature Festival3 June: LEEK Arts Festival4 June: CHESTER Literature Festival8 Oct: DEAL Astor Theatre10 Oct: COLCHESTER Arts Centre14 Oct: LOUGHBOROUGH, MMC7 Nov:…

   Anniversary I forgot, I said,but since when was our love builton anything so ordinaryas a date?    Let other couples mark time.I am too caught upwith the here and the now of youto waste these hoursin commemoration of the past.   Because our love is vast,like an ocean,with depths far beyondothers’ comprehension.   Why spend our lives swimming circlesin the muddy puddleof…

Billionaire in a Midlife Crisis He’s swapped designer jeans and flashy carsFor designer spacesuits and trips to MarsWhere he watches Earth turn on its axisWith its stupid people paying taxesHe’s indulging all his whims and vicesHe’s a billionaire in a midlife crisis He’s got plans to end world povertyOnce his new hair’s lost its noveltyHe’s dropping rap tracks and dissing pronounsHis kids have…

An Invention of Collective Nouns A reckoning of spreadsheets.A distraction of smartphones.A prattle of podcasts.A mispronunciation of scones. A clique of photographers.A heard of precedents.An enjambment ofpoets. A grope of presidents. A pile of haemorrhoids.A bunion of personal trainers.A bout of estimations.A condescension of mansplainers. A stroke of geniuses.A spot of adolescents.An…

The Cost of Loving I love you more than life itselfbut I swear I’ll love you betterif you let me turn the heating offand you wear another sweater. I cannot get enough of you –I’m completely in your thrall.I love to watch you bending overto unplug the telly at the wall. Yes, you’re the only one for me,my sweet and fragrant flower –now you’ve ditched your daily bath for a cost-efficient…

The Question Erm, well – I begin, shifting nervously in my chair – if it’s true there is no heaven and no hell,  no eternity or long hereafter,  no divine plan or offstage direction from an invisible hand, then how do we make sense of it all, how do we make our way through this life,this glorious, ridiculous, ramshackle world of ours, with its wars and brutality, conflicts and petty…

Assorted Haiku Haiku #2511 Tourists wait in lineto enter Machu Picchu.Oh, look! A high queue. Haiku #564127 how dare you suggestI have a short attentionspanish omelette Limeraiku There once was a younglimerick from Kew who turnedinto a haiku. The Constraints of Haiku Tied up all night witha haiku dominatrixand her three-line whip. Shakespearean Haiku Shall I compare theeTo a summer’s…

It’s publication day for ‘How to Lay an Egg with a Horse Inside’. For those of you who preordered, I hope your copy has arrived and you enjoy reading it. For those of you who, for some strange reason, didn’t preorder, it should be out there in most bookshops for perusal and purchase. But only if you want to.  There’s a special edition available through most indie bookshops (signed and with a…