Stuart Miller-Osborne

I was walking the backstreets of a cool coastal town When I found in a dry gutter a pornographic magazine This fascinated me so much that I took it back to my studio I was engaged at this time in painting bright marine scenes On stolen or redundant cobble stones as these sold very well […]

one of my favourite lines of poetry is from Houseman’s Shropshire Lad   That is the land of lost content I see it shining plain  The happy highways where I went  And cannot come again    it is memorable but it is my opinion that it should have read   That is the land of […]

You were sitting on the high sea wall A refugee from a nearby wedding celebration Your lovely clothes (velvet skirt/white shirt) Were totally at odds with the rough stone nearby   You said to me that you were had become bored Of the jagged noise and the false excitement And needed to look at the […]

The same can be said of poetry If you are featured in a poem Then you have achieved immortality

If you fall in love with a fictional character In a book They will never die

My dad is a Marxist intellectual Anna Really You do not seem that impressed I am not Why Because there is no such thing as a Marxist intellectual I disagree Anna Marxism has never been proved to work My dad is an intellectual I am not disputing that But as an intellectual he must see […]

In 1944 my father who was an American GI watched as the volcano swallowed the railway for the last time He told me about this when I was old enough to understand the meaning of his interesting story In 1984 I travelled in the chairlift for the last time before it too was closed because […]

…… and pine ………….be mine in …..equal….. measures wewillexplore …………………………………………..the caves and…… share……. its s……ilver…………a……….n……….d………si………lent ………………………treasures

I watch you creep silently across the wooden floor As not to wake me from my other world You open the buttercup curtains And watch the sun slowly rise Above the gas towers and the distant hills How pretty your bottom is in the young light I can hear the blind paperboy delivering our newspaper […]

I met you on the Vesuvius Railway Shortly before its wartime destruction We both wanted to travel into the core And experience its other worlds But there was a notice hidden Beneath a seat in the carriage Which read in a slow beat Love is all you have My friends Love is all you have