Identity Verified Thinker in Arts / Literature / Contemporary
Sean Urquhart
Sean Urquhart
I am an experienced writer who has worked across a variety of mediums including: screenplay, script editing, prose, poetry,and novelization. I am particularly interested in psychogeography and the scope it gives both academics and creative writers to effectively trade elements of their fields.
 

Categories

This Blog has no active categories.
 
Close  
Apr. 4, 2017 12:30 pm
The view was occluded, as domestic wars reached a damp crescendo, waged for mere monetary reasons, the type that wipe out communities. It's hard to see through the murk and PR spin, aficionados of the truth will weep as do I, as multitudes of alternative facts are proffered. Better still to be myopic, take the close-up, take the soundbite, take the glamour pout, and accede to the...  Read More
Apr. 4, 2017 6:14 am
He doesn't lurk in the background, he's no spectre, he's highly visible, Uncle Joe never went away, He's at the bar, roaring about Putin, Spilling his drink, And realising he was strong in the weak zeitgeist.  Read More
Apr. 4, 2017 5:58 am
It was noon; the long lunchtime of the soul. You walked in and re-started my life. It had been a long lay-off, I'd been in the margins, hiding, And you'd been off the market. It's a romance of equals. Often nothing ventured, equals nothing gained. Until there was you. I'll be your Huckleberry.  Read More
Apr. 3, 2017 5:25 am
It was in his wild expression; Drink-sodden, psychotic, And entirely human. He, like me, had been in places he'd rather not have been. The years had been unkind and it told on his face, Seamed, nicotine and alcohol and myriad life sweeteners, Ruining that countenance that had climbed many a mountain. I only had that fateful hour with him. A decade passes and he's gone, And I never did...  Read More
Apr. 3, 2017 5:14 am
Drifting; Monday, the somnambulist in a mid-morning dream, No connection, no earthly bounds as he heads towards an uncertain future. Standing after the ravages of the city living have wrought their changes. Febrile; a condition of the day. And now lunchtime is upon him. After spending the day moving notional finance around. The life of the professional gambler; Stocks and shares replace...  Read More
Mar. 31, 2017 11:40 pm
Pints supped, Deals struck while the boss is away, The Rose and Crown as a sanctuary, For the long lunchtime of the soul. Words tumbled frim anxious lips, Rendered silent as Brexit wrought chaos, And the empire was once again under threat, More often than not, we drank in rapt attention. Odd sacrements in odd acres of concrete, wild. And then the dawning and the realisation that we are...  Read More
Mar. 31, 2017 11:14 pm
We were talking oblivion with Burroughs, In that bone dry martini way, As auld Barrhead became Manhattan, When it really was the Bronx. And then you mentioned dying by 34. 50 looms and have we learned anything? Doubtless, but you're light years frrom me now, And I miss the cravkle and hiss of your verbiage, That angular patter, And those emerald minces. We saw through it all as teens, ...  Read More
Mar. 31, 2017 9:54 am
I watched as pints flowed, As gossip became currency and the atmosphere was tense. The long days of conservative misrule. Nothing changes much in this disunited kingdom  Read More
Mar. 30, 2017 9:00 am
I once stood in the dole queues, then was subjected to pseudo medicals assessments, now I am working flotsam, on a low wage, and waiting for the axe to fall. Either way same surplus, Either way same surplus.  Read More
Mar. 28, 2017 2:52 pm
There is much to pity, Much more so than to admire, In a country where beauty is trammeled by Trident.  Read More
Mar. 27, 2017 6:12 pm
Quiet living, in the margins, nothing to say in these lean days. Nothing worth saying. Words count for little, Especially those of our representatives. Keep schtum, I often wish I'd kept schtum more often.  Read More
Mar. 27, 2017 6:04 pm
I still have life left in me, Despite daily vomiting, Asthma and a host of other ailments. I've sworn off drink this week, To no better health, And so will return to the brew, Self-contamination as meds.  Read More
Mar. 24, 2017 9:09 am
Thoughts of home, That mythical place that never existed, that place that never nurtured, though soured me. And now, here, three hundred and fifty miles, And the right amount of distance between me And those crushing memories, Those daemons haunting from afar, Are now free-flying elsewhere. Home is notional at best, A place to rest, A place to sleep off the doubt.  Read More
Mar. 24, 2017 7:25 am
It's a secular temple; The pub. I've spent many an hour worshipping there, In the company of familiar strangers, Men and women of similar stripes, Righting wrongs over several drinks. I never tire of those places, Especially in days like these, Where one needs a drink, Just to stay human.  Read More
Mar. 22, 2017 6:28 pm
No one wins in war, Whether domestic or international, No one wins. The lone figure, insane, atomised, Striking at the capital, Never wins as he cuts down innocents And is himself cut down. Today was a reminder, That security is a myth, That the war on terror is a myth, And we are caught in so many conflicts, That the very idea of right is often flawed. Often conflated with might. ...  Read More
Mar. 21, 2017 12:57 pm
Why bother with any pretence? The sour face, the lack of a handshake, The teenager in aspic scowl, The full spectrum of studied indifference, Hiding a blatant regard of self and ego. Must be great being you; Hating most for the sake of an image, A self-serving, Which must be hard to propel. It would wear me out. Farewell and enjoy the spite ahead, For it will germinate and spread.  Read More
Mar. 21, 2017 8:48 am
The cringe, When one knows that they are on the bottom rung, And plying a trade that goes unnoticed. I am not defined by my role, Though the public often peer down, From their umpire's view. I serve, And swerve the pigeonholing That has dogged me from the start.  Read More
Mar. 20, 2017 5:20 am
While thoughts of work, Exit from Europe, And the fall-out from that, Rally in the mind, Jasper, pushes his tail towards me, In his own territorial battle, Though of the very much benign version. He merely wants some positive strokes, As we all do on a daily basis, Pity we seldom get them.  Read More
Mar. 19, 2017 8:49 am
Shared humour, shared food, We laughed and ate And all was well. A simple Saturday. Fortunate to be alive, Despite all that festers outside. I don't feel just as alone as I did last year, Nor as hopeless. That is more than a.small mercy.  Read More
Mar. 17, 2017 9:39 am
I see glimpses of humanity, In among the drunken lurches, Misogyny writ large. Not someone I often return too. I'm no paragon of virtue, But I avoid the reminders of that, In between Old Chuck's lines. He was often wrong, And so am I.  Read More
Mar. 17, 2017 8:37 am
You know the type; Too much tartan and sabre rattling patter, Flag-waving Olympics of victimhood, Too much stout cried into, Not enough solidarity with the brothers and sisters of another race, Rivers of green, Misty-eyed Brigadoon images of a past, A past that was created for commerce. The folk songs that remain unsung, The ones that never get an airing, Are often the vessels of truth,...  Read More
Mar. 14, 2017 4:22 pm
The bus was empty as we talked; Me dead, him alive. He was on good form, Good shape, As we headed for Oxford. It was OK death, Not quite the nullity I expected, Or others predicted, It was pretty much a continuation, Nietzsche's eternal recurrance, With Big Joe for company, To the next life. I woke up, Headington next. Big Joe was gone. Only an echo of him in my tired ears, Only a...  Read More
Mar. 14, 2017 4:05 pm
The green lizard stare, The wet fish handshake, And the stench of insincerity. The hallmarks of the urban cad de jour. And still I persist, Conversation leaning towards his bank balance. Until the social cavalry arrives, Bearing hard stares, Laconic patter. And yer man exits, Leaving me with the wraith of the bar, Whispering baritone warnings, Gasping between gulps of scotch, And...  Read More
Mar. 12, 2017 7:46 pm
I never did like Tolkien much, Found his prose ludicrously prolix, And dull. I found the Golden Age posited More than a little worrying, Summoning up an authoritarianism At odds with my own notion of freedom And community. I avoided the classics, With their own fearful gravitas, Preferring the margins, Where I continue to dwell, Mopping up the regal overspill, Lees from...  Read More
Mar. 12, 2017 2:23 pm
I walked on Hoe Street's molten tarmac Trying to take the cultural temperature Instead I met Mickey In his cups Some, most of us can't afford to be existentialists We rail and carp And it's back to work or the dole queue On a grey Monday. Mickey. berated me For not quite living the dream That he perceived I was projecting The truth is I was tired Of his half-cut assumptions And the...  Read More
Mar. 11, 2017 11:02 pm
On the edge of this commune of exiles Widescreen TV 55" of testosterone And the company of fools. I make an escape after 80 minutes of dire sport To my left the humour and good grace Of Master Fordes To my right the olfactory gusts Of THC and school playground chauvinism 80 minutes can be interminable Retreating to be with my soul mate I was only ever looking for one When I spent...  Read More
Mar. 9, 2017 11:03 am
Looking for traces of the human in the rubbish we leave behind. Seeking answers in the rising tide of waste, industrial and personal. Turning in on one's self as a means of escape from the crushing realities of the day. Further atomised, drifting further from the idea of a homo sapiens community, consuming more, yet atrophying from the fodder on offer. STOP. I've been here before. This...  Read More
Mar. 9, 2017 8:38 am
From the past to the present The past cast out, Banished. The present; Unburdened, floods of tears, All the old daemons not quite gone, But on their way out. A tidal wave of relief As TK Maxx looms, A reminder of seven years ago, A vastly different proposal, In the new dawn of the now. I walked out of my old, clinging skin, Shedding the fears, Embracing the beautiful fragile new...  Read More
Mar. 7, 2017 10:26 am
I can’t quite count two battleships But I can count the ways I love my partner I could never contemplate a diminished fifth in music May as well ask me to play a dinner plate But I can keep a beat four to the floor And more It was that bastard Morrow the maths teacher from Hades itself Abandon hope all who entered his class Who finally ruined my early joy of numbers And so, I retreated...  Read More
Feb. 14, 2017 1:39 am
Hoe Street Musique Concrete Clearing the lights at the Bell Corner, choking on the monoxide perfumery as the traffic hits a midday peak flow, the dull greys of January inflict their seasonal woes on any soul as they weave their way past the one-time 24 hour pool emporium. The wraiths of many an after hours drink-inflected session now replaced with builders on a heritage erasure tip as new flats...  Read More
 
 
Latest Ebooks