It’s been rather a long time since I posted on here! So where are we? Just got my first year UNI results in and I was just shy of a first. Better than expected.

I was seeing a girl for a bit but she turned out to be the craziest person I have ever met. No jokes. Insane. Off the scale, the scale being the hot/mad one off HIMYM.


I went to see Dropkick Murphys which was incredible.

I bought Tom Waits’ discography, Martha off of Closing Time is one of my favourite songs ever. Whenever I’m drunk and it plays I always want to send it to someone but I shan’t! It is fucking beautiful.

What else? Spent some time with my Aunt which was nice. I haven’t seen her much since Uncle Jeff died and she’s thrown herself into handiwork. It’s impressive.

Um. I’m doing poetry reading in sept at the Phoenix hopefully.

The poetry stuff is going well. Feedback is good.

I went on holiday. Here’s me with some American Indians playing in the beach. They’re small, over my shoulder.

It was fucking lovely to get away. I’m working lots and have ages until I’m back at UNI, I cant believe I miss it.

That’s about it really. Lots of horrible things have happened, people keep dying. Whenever I think about the recent deaths, I always want to reconnect with my old friends. It’s a shame it takes such an event to cause that response. Ah well.

Solidarity and love always


We Were Angels


You call me at 2am
With blood flowing
From your palms
And I,
I never was a believer.

You said it’s a miracle
You ever made it this far.
You look to me for some salvation
When really, you just want me to
Nail you
Back up on there.

You say
Remember when we were angels
Remember when we had wings
Remember how we used to be
And the songs I would sing

But I’ve never been a believer
In anything
But you.
But I don’t see the blood in your hands
And I don’t think there’s a master plan

At least, not anymore.

I don’t remember us being angels
But I remember your face
And how you looked when you told me
I pulled you from grace.

I think it is a miracle,
We even made it this far.

You liked to lay on your back
When you had a panic attack
And maybe I saw a scar.
When you turned over
From where your wings were.


But we only exist now in old notebooks
And that space in-between dreams
Where we are no older
And nothing is what it seems.

And I am sorry
For that night
Where I caught you
With a hammer,
With your palm spread
And a nail half through

Oh you should said something
I would have believed
You should have said anything
We could have grieved together

Sometimes I do think
That we may have been angels.
And then I see your face
In some crowded room
And I realise
I was never one of them.

I think you wished I was,
I think I wished I was.

And you can count on me to nail
You back up.
If you promise to take me with you.

You remember us as angels
I remember us as sinners
On the seventh day.
For at least seven years
I sinned,
And if I dragged you down,
To hell with it.

I think of you whenever I sleep
And it is nice to think that
Maybe once,
We could’ve been angels.



I’ve finally been convinced to write without a nom de plume and share my work so please check this blog… James Cookson’s Poems

I’ll still be using this one, for poems and drafts and stuff, plus there are poems I can’t share with people that would see that one! Haha.

Love always.