New book- Mortal by Veronica Aldous

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A little guillotine chops the film
A girl assembles the frames
Into a great pattern, a rose window
Beyond a cloister racked with old hats.
My piano is filled with music
It swallowed the endless toothache
Of love, my coat pockets belch
Scores, minims and crotchets
The sanguineous ink of you.
Soon the main event will commence
The screening of Some Moments  When You Were Happy
The orchestra tune up and everyone mutters
Such a concomitance of sound and image!
It is only a hollow warehouse in the rain
White without black is no story
The celluloid flaps endlessly.

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Balsam and Rue


Balsam and Rue

Aunt Chook’s got the plant called pop-bang
outside her window, she raffled a doll
I didn’t win so I cried although I was 18
(I was very ill from footprints on my head)
When she’s on holiday we feed James
The cat, he’s a Maine Coon
He also has a pet stuffed toy otter
He wraps his cat arms round it and sings

Please may I, please may I, please may I

Aunt Chook looks after elderly people
She is 90. I tickled the balsam
It went kerrpow and the seeds went high
I miss James and Aunt Chook
They were 40 years ago
What happened?
I guess they still live in this box
In my head; I am not letting worms
Get to it, or headscars.

Veronica Aldous 2018 all rights reserved
Painting of Coulsdon Common by Veronica

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In a huddled corner I long for cuckoo pint, marjoram
Lush swathes of grass to brush and burr my fur
I am not a lush kitten, but an old mistress
Once called Pip, called RonkaConka
Now nameless prisoner of aching bones.

None comes to rescue one-eye, having served
My useful days on laps, my paps hung with tinies
Little tumblers long gone, no longer mother but ratter
Perhaps? I offer that.

I am forest, I declare I know how to dig a beetle
Pull the skin off a mouse so it looks like liver
I once caught a bat; its shrieks unnerved
The cold teeth of night, the neighbour’s dog
Bayed for blood, I charmed him through a gate
Dragging kills past his jaws
My eyes a gorgeous weaponry of hate.

I am wormy and I dribble
but I am still half-lovely
I want to stretch upon a hot doorstep
Eat cold tinned lungs, exude the smell
Of stinky worn out shoes, beloved
For what I am,
always yours
A whiskered nemesis, fallen star and ever, poet.


veronica aldous all rights reserved 2018

Picture shows my art and my  poetry books  now available on Lulu. Be lovely if you bought one! Click below.



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I thought about boiling some glue
Making flypapers in the gloom
Hanging them up and catching
Hardhearts and worrypests
Finaglers and wicked hurters

But I have caught glow worms and stars
And my mother’s beautiful voice
Singing to me, to calm me
As I weep on the stairs

I am still attached
By the caul
By the mind
By the heart.


Veronica Aldous  2018  all rights reserved

Painting by Veronica- Buddha meets my Bones

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When will it End?


Pio and Almedo in the rotting courtyard
With the game of draughts between them
The huge banana palms in greenlit haze
From cigars Hypatia brought them

Sipping rum and trading whore-stories
She better not hear, the big bottom
Of all bottoms, as the sun falls
Behind her bottom
And night cicadas squizzle in the pots
Of dirty lilies and here come hot sausages
From the sausage and hot fat bars
As red and blue lights hit the little pool
In which Pio keeps his rum cold
Among Hypatia’s koi made of pvc
Best not disobey such wives
Almedo says…

This and all the other dreams
Of being 91,92,93
Still nipping women’s necks
But ridiculously crocodile-arsehole wrinkled
Plucking small guitars and singing
My love, my preciosa lily-
However did we ever get  so old?


Veronica Aldous all rights reserved 2018

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In the fields is the shim sham man
Now we are in the bales
I got the holy screeches

The sun did pop down
And I snugged away in a burrow
Smelling of sweet hay

Here I is, not altogether
Together. I can eye a slit
Here he comes pobbling over

To see the kid maybe trapped
If I was cowboygirl
Shoot him dead

I scry him all my life
He is the loutish joddy
Under the bed.


Veronica Aldous all rights reserved 2018

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She left grapes bluing and blurring
Glaucous surfaces with the rose red juices
Coagulating in their limpid cells
Much as I kissed her, so she goes

Here is our oval dinner table
Repeating the shining blossoms
From the cherry tree beyond the window
The letter pressed beneath a bowl

A cup of emerald and silver lustre
That last she touched, I never clean
I saw her once on the esplanade
It was her cinnamon hair, I swear

My bed is a museum of shivering shades
At night she comes to me and sings a fado
Tenebrous as the hills beyond the city
Her chemise in my arms, her arms…

Veronica Aldous all rights reserved 2018

Painting by Veronica Aldous – Caribe

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