All Posts By

Chris Green

Poetry

Public Good

“Its all for the public good,” they all allege, “Read these, our words, watch and hear our pledge – Information for all our commuters,” These granite words pour from their computers. Sell more sheets of the public tabloid press, Lies, nonsense and rubbish with no redress – Lives are destroyed,…
Chris Green
8th February 2011
Poetry

Newark Castle by the River Trent

Deeply reflective waters watched from behind bars of modern steel, set, strong and deep in old stone. Old, black pollution pocks and pits the window; classless as any dead thing, eyeless, yet beautifying. Fanciful escapes, you may say, a noble castle and a mobile river. Three thousand yards to the…
Chris Green
8th February 2011
Poetry

Oddenstein

Oddenstein is my name & I live inside your brain; I have a voice, I'm so surreal Telling you just what you feel; There's lots of space in your head & I've put in a four post bed; I grumble, 'cus' and moan a lot, Someone's spiked my wine-a-lot. Oddment…
Chris Green
13th April 2010
Poetry

Memories

Jew's Ear Fungi camp in the brittle bark of 'Once a Tree'; his body is broken, separated, chopped and sawn until only his feet remain surrounded by remnant branches. A crocus pokes her green bonnet above the Earth's hem and waits for the first rays of early morning sun; she…
Chris Green
13th April 2010
Poetry

Gas

Iambic Hexameters by pole, perch & rood we balanced and stood on the six foot line. Strongly stressed Iambic Pentameters start blankly from the page echoing through the hall of stress syllable meters.
Chris Green
13th April 2010
Poetry

Marmite

Ma might but Da won't! "Reconstituted tar!" "Arse gravy!" "Gearbox grease!" "Ships' bottom anti-fouling!" Marmite, Marmite, my delight; Frightfully black and sharp; Laidback zinc, thickly salty, Blackly-inky, sticky stink. Da won't but Ma - might...
Chris Green
13th April 2010
Poetry

I

I Chrysanthemum in pink-sleeved petals, green leaves cushioning; framing.
Chris Green
13th April 2010
Stories

Horse

Neigh! Neigh! Oddenstein: "Come back with my horse, that's the last bit of voice I've got left." Monument having tripped and concertina-ed over a gnomon: "What a grumpy looking gnome." Gnomon: "Speak for yourself, sunshine, if you had t sit out in all weathers on top of that sun dial,…
Chris Green
27th January 2009
Poetry

Flag

What is a flag? Some pieces of rag, Some colours sewn all together; An ensign; a place to gather. What is a flag? Rolled cloth in a bag, A great ship’s battle ensign Or only a printed sign? What is a flag? In honour’s brag We stand and fight In…
Chris Green
19th December 2008