i’m a poet and writer interested in words that reach out honestly for core conditions that help all humans, that offer such conditions, to help us find, make, a benign environment for growth for all, serious and fun

i’m especially interested in poetry, literature, film, theatre, music, art, wisdom, counselling (and many aspects of these, including gender)

. . .


readers read and their eyes write
write the writer back
tributary to the river
of their dream

AKH (31st March 2020)


surely necessary
to turn against
as well as with
within verses

but in all my flowing with
all our flowing with
surely cannot be
the conclusion

AKH (31st March 2020)

spotlight on . . . prayer

Make of yourself a light
– Buddha

i’ve always loved to watch the light
although darkness claims my shame
it is to light that I have turned
my night a grieving shield from hurt
dungeon to conceal myself, punish,
bringing only worse, cell for the frozen,
hiding from light’s encompassment,
mourning a drift on its lossless sea
of love

we must forgive ourselves
and each other . . .
our faults intrinsic
shadow-traps to our best makings
only define me whilst i refuse
to turn to sea, again . . .

A. H / K. H-H (19th September and 13 October 2018)

in the summer months of 2018 I read Luminous Light by Jacob Israel Liberman which was lovely, though I’m cautious about saying much he says, I know less, but he’s radical on it and it thoroughly stimulated me considering these possibilities and light, it filtered into lots of my writing in a summer of the start of a lot of reassessment. later i came across Buddha’s last words again . . .

it was published in Survivors’ Poetry’s Poetry Express newsletter number 54.

and was originally posted here – prayer

be calmed

a trawler cut stillness
bisected mouth river calm
silent sleekness
shushed noise like snow
in a serene Selenic blanket

the non-witch watched moonlit
from a haven once devil craft wound
by a priest’s words so long ago
now trans, would witch-hood be suspected
by many, and many not

coming here like a bewitchment
fleeing The Holy Mountain for life
hooked by a moon driven east-easterly into,
to childhood eyes’ cream of the watch
only later a thought to dark vulnerabilities

the trawler cut stillness
under a stark moon’s revelation
and she sat, ignoring the call
to walk to the lighthouse (locked)
toward her father, whispers her heart

this not the first time
she has felt this wish
to come, sit, to go there
an expectation she’d round
it’s base and find him

echo twist perhaps
on childhood games
walking the pier, threeish,
he hip replaced
learning to walk again

always at heart

none of this more
than what it is
it is

A. H / K. H-H (26th March 2020)


sometimes i feel i’ve the depth of a screen
and the best it gets is a script with depth
or an actor who’s learnt what background means
something i wonder if i’ve done for myself

mixed in a crowd on its narrative tracks
passing me by with their shows in their eyes
our dialogues only mine the seams
of what things meant to us already

K. H / A. H (20th March 2020)

blog update 19th March 2020

the calendar turns and i’m still at this, roughly 200 poems posted and enjoying this and finding more to post. i am trying to add more images, my own where i’m able. a family member heard of my blogging which has led me to upgrade plan as a birthday present – it may make it seem smoother, but it will also let me experiment with video and audio as i’d like. i hope it’s unnoticeable in any bad way – but am always interested in feedback if you have it.


spotlight on . . . author credit

cracked stick figures
summoned hence
to dance
to sing
on lips
your own
life’s breath

A. H / K. H-H (18 Jan – 23 July 2017)

an older poem, from before blogging, at the moment in the draft of a staff of asklepios I may try pairing it with a poem on the blog with some similar themes, wind carried words

Départ / Departure – translation from Rimbaud

Assez vu. La vision s’est rencontrée à tous les airs.
Assez eu. Rumeurs des villes, le soir, et au soleil, et toujours.
Assez connu. Les arrêts de la vie. – O Rumeurs et Visions!
Départ dans l’affection et le bruit neufs!

Arthur Rimbaud (Illuminations)


Enough seen. The vision has been encountered in every air.
Quite enough. Whispers of towns, the evening, and in the sun, and ever.
Enough known. Life’s instants. — O Whispers and Visions!
Departure in fresh affection and fresh noise!

Arthur Rimbaud (Illuminations) (trans. AH/KH 24/12/17)

types of poetry – haiku

types of poetry
categorical insanity
nets cannot catch breath

A. K. H. H (13th March 2020 – rewrite)

click for an introduction

blog thoughts

it’s coming up towards 2 years since I started blogging i commented today on ‘observations’ (original post) being my most liked post, with 19 i think i’ve not fretted too much over numbers, its just been a nice thing to do — and has led to me writing more (a good thing) i did some…


for many years
i was unable even to try
to write a cv
as this task made me so sad

i don’t think such feelings are uncommon

read on . . .

ii (2020)

humbled in soul break
pray, pray now
as i should anyway
first in thanks for life
any wordless poetry
granted there, anon.
moments’ blessings
living well
in harmony
an orchard to tend,
apples come
when seasons bring them

A. H / K. H-H (6th March 2020)

read the whole post for some introduction

i (2020)

silent sounding
conversations of the eyes
move my heart
beyond words

a. h / k. h-h (5th March 2020)


types of poetry?
is that idea insanity?
does a net catch breath?

Spotlight on . . . Plight

Is it vulgar, to gambol, on both sides
of a sacred marriage? Not one thing or the other.
There is a smell of spring and a smell of winter,
the sound of a party and a wedding altercation.
 I’m unsure I’m invited to either.
 Small inside my puff pastry story
 I’m blowing on some ember – sometimes a flame,
sometimes cinders – dizzy oscillator.
Truth in both – true in neither.
A neuter case to curse the wedding night.
Unless, dance card spirited away, secreted
in some fold, I turn toward my song,
party of one, alone, seeking paradise.
A veil lifted, falls to outward celebration.

A. H / K. H-H (15th September 2018 & March 2019).

an eyelashed silhouette sits

an eyelashed silhouette sits
in a ward window
close comforter
not mirror
nor shadow

in a ward window
my eyelashed silhouette
sits showing
a gentle figure
awaiting colour

Poetics (again) – Again

I was going back through my last year of posts and got to this:

poetics (again)

I still agree, and may have been taking for granted, but it seems obvious, but important to add – maybe this is where ‘all the best words in the best order’ come back in, in that that is the best possible path to the revelation, if we listen to what we hear very very carefully, which may sometimes mean sitting with it and distilling very carefully, which can be a bit scary when faced with the enormity you want to catch and maybe only comes with a bit of digestion, recollected in tranquility. Maybe that and the immediate revelation are two different poetrys. Maybe this is how to move a bit between the two — and maybe some personal circumstances render that more doable now, for now. Knowing to its best.

A. H / K. H-H (7th February 2020)

My Film Review of The Kindergarten Teacher (2018) is posted at Lapidus International blog

Lapidus International have kindly posted my brief review of this wonderful film about poets and getting lost in the world (much more could be said, but best is to just watch it). I’m grateful to them (especially Francesca Baker and Richard Axtell).

Lapidus International blog – The Kindergarten Teacher (2018), film review

toni (31st January 2020)

Spotlight on . . . Rebecca

(after Alfred Hitchcock’s film)

Lost at sea

The Wars of the Narratives
bidding for control
with disinformation of the heart

Reality subtracted from reality
leaves what?

An empty tennis court?

And perhaps we tell our tales with bias
the good, the bad, the melodramatic

But how the heart has found its task
when truly made to work —
to love, to act in love

at the rock face, information’s motherlode,
free to be
constructive not constructed

A. H / K. H-H (30th October 2018)

my goodness, 200 poems and i manage to spotlight the same one i started with last november again (broken). I am not obsessed with it. Really. I think.

So, another. This one inspired by seeing Hitchcock’s film, chosen now as it’s about people living with the broken.

Spotlight on . . . broken

as dawn falls golden
past bronze to lead remember
all sunlight’s broken

(c) A. H / K. H-H (19th May 2018)

One of my early blogged poems from when I started posting regularly in 2018. Also one of my most liked, 17 for the original post, poor little me has never hit 20 yet for any – obvs not my fault people. Not that it matters. I must be doing something wrong though.

I hope you like it. There must be about 200 poems here now. I can’t quite believe that. Maybe also another book, if I ever did get that far.


thinking about being an emerging poet in middle age

There was a famous observation I read somewhere (through a third person’s writing) that a poet is more like the captain in a painting of a ship than the actual captain of the ship. I’ve not found it in a quick google search, it may have been Emerson, I remember it as an American nineteenth century writer but can’t even remember where I read this now in recent years. But it may have been a painter or a philosopher as I think now that the comparison may have been to philosophers as sea captains, doing the bigger real task and the poet being in their small part in the painting.
. . .

one magpie

two for joy

one this morning
before another clear
from hidden

so, one or two?

so very human
joy present
quite unknown

A. H / K. H-H (25th January 2020)

poem published

observations i & ii has been published on the blog at Disability Arts Online (DAO) – my thanks to DAO and its editor Colin Hambrook. you can see it here – DAO blog, observations i & ii followers of my posts may notice this is made of my observations i and iia poems, the second…

stomach bug blues

stomach bug blues
i made it to the water’s edge
greeted by these hues
the pictures didn’t get it
the odd pane of crystal glass
totally smooth
perfectly clear
every so many waves
right to my feet

even before I went there
it was like the sun was new

A. H / K. H-H (15th & 16th January 2020)

what you need to know today . . .

is that i wonder
how anyone could know what i need to know
why they would tell me like that, in a headline,
whether there is anything they’d like me to think
whether they just want me to accept they know best
if the momentum of The Reformation is being reversed
whether (some of) the media wish to be priests
and why it is that i am being polite

A. H/ K. H-H (16th January 2020)

observations ii(a)

one day i folded myself into a form – trimmed my edges, or everything they didn’t want – flavoured myself to an unreal specification

then posted this and found they wanted more

which is how i was trapped year after year – commuting myself into a box – trimmed and partial of all they might abhor – unboundaried thinking and being, the poet, oh and the trans bit as well, vital fuel for this engine

of course medicine made all this worse

i knew i was doing it too, had too, and the balance tipped, harder and harder to remedy it

in part it was clear as i was – and so got totally lost, not least as it hid how so many others were doing the same, a bit, some remedying it better, finding others

all my best bits, a whole problematic, thrived elsewhere, i knew, why i fed them, though lean and hungry at home – i even bored everyone, speaking of a person they just could not see, and they might have thought it my bad faith

here’s funny – they noticed and laughed, petted my head, some poked me to see what would happen and could not understand how my mad partiality protected a heart breathing true, almost alone, with its books and a pen, unwanted, folded and crying it knew

A. H / K. H-H (15th January 2020)


it is a false power that requires the destruction or inhibition of your power?

but that is the reality of power

and some may inhibit themselves when they see it

perhaps this explains free will – and I’d have to think and study if it relates at all to Old Nick and his hell

is it that we are allowed hell, in this sense, as removed from the divine, if we insist – we certainly do seem to insist a lot