Poems from Brian Jackson


Image by Brian Jackson

Night Thoughts

I never could count sheep.
A mind not given to gently grazing
Rather thoughts reared behind a fence
fed on roots deep under the surface.
Dandelions and thistles nosed-out,
rarely the sought after edible fungi.
Thoughts like omnivorous mammals,
with tender flesh under thick skin,
ready for the butcher.
Improbable outcomes farmed
in the dark night of slaughter.
I never could count sheep.
Pigs run rampant.

Brian Jackson
Published in Raw Edge Magazine, Summer 2001, ISSN 1361-2565



Image from angelasharum, Pixabay


The Visitor

I began to feel edgy

as his hand reached down,

the moment had come.

What choice had he?

After all it was her fault.

There were other choices

she could have made.

Why o why had she chosen this one.

His hand gripped tight, lifted,

and then it was over.

My heart pounded,

I reeled from the infidelity.

My favourite mug, used.

Brian Jackson
18 October 1998



Brian Jackson lives in Goodwick.

A man of many talents, he is a keen photographer and an accomplished poet.

Kitty Parsons

Kitty has forgotten how long she has been here now but she loves Pembrokeshire for its beauty and it's people. She spends her time searching out stories for pembrokeshire.online, swimming in the sea , drawing and painting as Snorkelfish and eating cake. She says "Pembrokeshire.online has been an opportunity to celebrate this beautiful county and its people. Keep the stories coming. We love to hear from you."

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1 Response

  1. Karen says:

    I absolutely love Brian’s poems! Definitely a man of many talents, as I’ve seen the photographs and woodwork too, and I’m sure those are just the beginning…