...It sprawls to the horizon, all this sea,
This blue-green brine all mirroring the sky,
The deeps devoid of light and charity,
Adrift and floating...
                                        What's become of me?
The waves still lap against me, no reprieve,
But fear and treading steady me a while.
I can't imagine how I'd ever leave -
I cast my gaze across the empty miles,
Revealing...
                        isolation, chill and grim
Until the dawn sweeps up above the brine:
A glimmer lighting up the ragged rim,
Then sea-foam verdigris gives way to shine.
And still I float below the gelid sky,
Adrift, a castaway within your eyes.

Freud says tattoos
Are
The Manifestation
Of a
Trauma

Every point
A
Separate pain
We
Have
Suffered

It took
Two
And a
Half
Hours

To complete
The
Diary
Of my
Trauma

And half a million perforations

To convert
Those
Memories
Into something

New

And

Beautiful

To finally
Let go
Of the past

Weary, lost and hungry
a traveller came to an inn.
Under the sign of
“The George & Dragon”
he enquired at an open window:
“Could I have something to
eat please?”
“No!” said the landlady
“We’re closed!”

“Well, could I have a bed
for the night?”
“Certainly not!
Go away!”

Thus rebuffed
the traveller
waited for a while,
then called again:
“Could I speak to George
this time please?”

TOBIAS