Fire and brimstone in a head
That rests upon my hands,
On my soft pillow on my bed,
Upon my shoulders, even in foreign lands.
A shell just slightly thicker than an egg’s,
But there is no yolk, only firecrackers
That my heart implores, charges, begs
To stop, before the shell truly shatters
Spitting out the grey matter to populate the skies
With nebulae, since I neglected to be wise.

I learnt to start justifying my actions
After years of crying sin
On everything I did and said
And only now the thought pervades my head
Now that I can breath, and I have no one to wrong
Just how wrong I was for the long
Of these two years.
Amongst my fears
I count – Will I ever be as brave, as honest, as forgiving, as principled
As before the time the reality of Life hit me, violent, raw, carried me on its current, limp, unbridled?
Will I find Truth again
Not calling it vain
To struggle and fight
For what is right?
Will I learn to forgive myself, not because ‘it was a hard time, too hard for me to take’,
But come out of the shame I have descended into, and give forgiveness for its own sake?

I forgive easily, give second chances easily, give easily
I give up more than I can, feasibly,
Until I realise, the stone idol, earthquake crumbling, does nothing but rain stones on me
And I am already so deeply entrenched,
That I forget how to seek strength,
From a God that hasn’t forsaken me.

Do you wake up only even now?
She tugged on your toe, sleeping giant, for long
She did not speak in me, but spoke to me
Only now, you get up, and you bow
I grew up silent, my parents saying that shouting is wrong
Perhaps it is, but speaking firmly and clearly
Is the opposite – It demonstrates control and frustrates the enemy
Let measure be your ally, sleeping giant, as you unfurl like an anemone
Though you slept through her trying
Through her crying,
You heard little. True, you woke up sometimes,
And moved mountains, but the times
Are still cruel to her, and you, as the big man, must protect
Those who are oppressed, else your size is your greatest defect -
They are not lords that forget their strength, and so, their duty
To aid those who are in difficulty.

This minute gives me no strong feelings - “...Going no where...”,
Stornoway, you had it there
Yet we are, just slowly, as slowly as Boats and Trains
And I fear unrequited love too, and I fear the rains
That bless tomorrow, and I fear Dad’s bottle of wine
Will never see the day when the light will shine
Through glasses it’s poured into, and our eyes, and our hearts
I don’t think anyone has even thought about rehearsing their parts
‘Cos it’s a very, very, very long way a way
Too too long way away, freedom to love, to smile, to breath, day.

Gliding on the Isis, Dad at the castle
Not hindered by the usual watern bustle
Summer is come, my sister’s a flower
Unfurling to sweet sixteen’s tune in this hour
Dog roses and nettles, poplar and willow
Leaning over the bow’s bitter pillow
The world’s upside down – Didn’t need the self-posed illusion
To prove it. Elderflower, wine, and face masks are an odd infusion
But I lie, steampunk Docs in first position, stilled in time
Immortalising it in few photos and poor rhyme
Poor as my experiences are rich, but capturing to perfection
The aimlessness of mine, of our, wonderings’, wanderings’, their recollection.

And when the lover of the stars
Found himself on the deepest pit of the ocean
He finally understood that all his life long
He had made the wrong choices