Have you ever seen one of those beautiful clips on social media where someone finishes their cancer treatment and rings a bell at the hospital they’ve been treated at to mark it? Often nurses, doctors and families are present to mark the moment with them, and all those gathered clap and celebrate, lining the corridor to cheer them off as they leave for the last time. It’s such a wonderful tradition, and so moving to watch.

Whilst I love it, I can’t help but feel sad that we don’t do the same thing for those finishing treatment in other areas of health, particularly mental health. Mental health therapies are often such hard work, and so much of that hard work happens in secret, perhaps without the same level of support and understanding people might offer if it was a physical health condition.

This poem imagines what it might look like to offer the same kind of tradition for someone finishing a mental health therapy, or perhaps reaching a point of discharge from services. As they walk out of a ward, treatment centre or therapist’s office for the last time, what would I want it to look like for them? What would I want to say. The words are below the video if you need them.

I would ring the bell for you
I’d line the corridor with everyone that you adore
Oh how we’d roar
Rapturous applause
For everything that you’ve endured.

I would ring the bell for you.
We would celebrate every step that you have taken
Commemorate every chain breaking
Heart break fading, your life a remaking 

We’d clap for all that graft
Graft that will last that changed your path
A path from which you won’t turn back

We’d see evey piece of grief
When pain didn’t cease and there was no relief
No reprieve, nothing that eased or brought you peace

The days you conveyed you wouldn’t make it
The prayers you prayed that did nothing to shake it
But you stayed, remained and found a way.

We’d name the pain that still remains.
We’d say to take it day by day,
We’ll walk beside you come what may.

Then one day…

You will ring the bell for them.
You’ll line the corridor with everyone that they adore
Oh how you’ll roar 
Rapturous applause for everything that they’ve endured
You will ring the bell for them

I was very excited to see this book out in the wild as I browsed the bookshops of Bath recently! Chimes is a brilliant monthly poetry event that runs in the back bar at The Bell on Walcot Street in Bath. Lots of incredible poets headline and there is always the opportunity to sign up for an open mic slot. It’s a wonderful mix of people and I love that it provides a supportive and encouraging environment for new poets, as well as an established platform for more experienced poets to perform.

It was the first ever place I drummed up the courage to perform one of my poems, so I’m really pleased to have recently joined the team, and to have a poem in their recently published anthology which is pictured below. You can buy a copy at Chimes events, from Mr B’s Bookshop in Bath and in store and online at Magalleria. Follow Chimes on Instagram here.

Three of my poems were featured in the 2025 Fringe Arts Bath festival, which consisted of several exhibitions spread over venues in the city centre of Bath between 23rd May and 7th of June. Fringe Arts Bath describe themselves as “Bath Fringe Festival’s cheeky little sister”, and provide a platform for early career curators and emerging artists.

My work featured in an exhibition called ‘Gentle Words Fall upon Loving Ears’, designed to be “an open love letter presenting work that captures the true beauty found within the domestic everyday life of queer relationships”. I really liked the idea of being part of an exhibition that celebrated the joy and everyday normality of queer relationships, rather than something necessarily focused on discrimination, prejudice or LGBTQ+ rights (although that type of work is really important). I chose three poems that I felt best fitted the theme, and whilst they were just for this exhibition (and my wife!) you can read or hear me perform one of them here.

The exhibition was curated by Ashley Cerrino, who chose to set the exhibition up like a living room, with artist’s work posted on the wall, a fridge, a TV screen, and performed through a queer poetry night. Ashley also included fridge magnets showing pictures of some of the artists and their partners, which was a lovely touch!

It was a privilege to be a part of, and a new experience for me to see my work displayed in this form. I’ve only ever showcased my poetry on a page, social media post or through performance, so to see several pieces printed large, framed and hung was really new for me! I helped out with invigilating one day, and it was wonderful to see people interacting with the exhibition and the work that was part of it. It inspired me to think more about how I merge some of the art forms I practice in, having had a desire to do this for a while now. I have tended to keep photography, film and poetry separate, but I hope over the next year I’ll get chance to play with mix these up a little more. A huge thank you to Ashley and Fringe Arts Bath for the opportunity!

One of my favourite things about Spring, is that moment when you first notice things starting to change – the beginning of the shift in seasons. Those moments are fuel for hope, proof that brighter days are coming, signs that point to a future where things blossom and bloom. This poem is about that. The words are typed out below the image if you need them.

Is there anything more beautiful?
Than the first bit of bud on branch.
The fleck of green in the dark damp soil.
The crack of a seed that will be a tree.

Is there anything more comforting?
Than the curtain of light as the closed door creeks open.
The silhouette of promise as sun peers out from cloud.
The slow fade from darkness to light.

Is there anything more joyful?
Than the first saying of your name by the child you made.
Or first baby steps. Hands that hover but go unheld.
The learning that becomes relearning or unlearning.

Is there anything more amazing?
Than the size of the seed that becomes the mustard tree.
The yeast that makes the whole thing rise.
The spark that starts the flame.

(It’s enough.
It’s enough.
It’s enough for now.)

Pride month draws to a close this weekend, so I thought I’d post this poem as a thank you to all those who have gone before me, and made my path safer as a result. I know I have a responsibility to keep making it safer for the generation after me, and I hope I am doing that in some small way. The poem is called The Nod, and the words are below if you need them.

We were walking in town my wife and I,
When an older gay couple caught my eye.
For a moment as they walked right by,
One looked straight at me, nodded and smiled.
I nodded right back and then thought as I walked,
How those nods weren’t just nods they were so much more…

A representation, a kind of me too,
A way of saying there are others like you.
That the path has been made and you’ll find your way,
That you’re not on your own, you’re not walking alone.

An affirmation of the love we’ve all found,
Shouted from rooftops without making a sound.
A celebration of love that was formed through struggle,
Refined by fire, flowers pushing through rubble.

A thank you for all you had to go through,
The battle you fought just to be you.
Your fight means I can be who I am,
That I can walk with my wife hand in hand.

I hope you remembered as you walked past,
That because of you every ceiling has smashed.
Please know that in us your legacy lasts,
That all you hoped for has come to pass.

It was my 8th wedding anniversary recently (11 years together!) and I was inspired to write this by another social media post I’d seen. If you press play below you can hear me introducing the poem which will help it to make sense! I really like how this poem captures the love in its most ordinary sense, the everyday, mundane moments alongside the life-altering, earth-shattering ones, good and bad.

I’m in my primary school hallway
Council coloured walls and closed doors
Between classrooms standing on coffee stained floors 
A gateway

Lessons are in session but I’ve got the principal’s blessing
A hall pass of sorts permission to explore
To wander and ponder and search for more
An adventure 

I’ve never been out of place in these liminal spaces 
Always sat on the edges always outside the fences
Finding friends as I walk this way – a kid sent out, another running late
Familiar faces

Did I mention I stole that hall pass while in detention?
An open store cupboard door I just couldn’t ignore
It was a dance between chance and circumstance
Divine intervention 

So when they try to keep you confined
When they insist you must fit and colour inside the lines
Resist it and show them a different existence 
A life undefined