the setting sun
blood red orb falling into mercury sea
soft breeze tracing your skin like a lover’s caress
stillness
so pure

inky blackness falls
an endless arch peppered with stars
planets blink
flying fish dance
phosphorescence sparkles green
luminous in the wake of your footfall

and so you sit
breathing
absorbing
the very essence of earth, sea and sky

the moon rises full
swollen with fecundity
silence embraces you
life’s negativity is cleansed from your soul

and so you sit
dreaming
wishing on a star

the sun rises
pink, peach, soft
enveloping your being
giving birth to a brand new day

to a brand new you

50 quid a night
Bleak walls
***** curtains
'Thieves abound' signs.
What do you expect?

Rumbling
deep and dark
Boeings vying
with Airbus
for air space

Around me
surrounded
held hostage by
a mix of humanity
that defies belief

Tats & shaven eyebrows
Over there a Rolex
Business people
thin on the ground
Holidaymakers

construction gangs
football teams
flight crew...
No pilots, mind
Families

And then there are
the lonesomes
like me
and people shouting
into their digital fruits

Only 50 quid a night
What do you expect?
What you've got...
A melting *** of humanity
In all its gore & gloriousness

Laptop lens views world;
death by nature, death by man.
Hearts weep as souls fly.

vitality wanes,
lost forever over the
edge of death's doorstep

Blue floor, blue chair
flowered curtains and
a view of fields
beyond the window.

Bed, unmade.
What history does
that hold, I wonder?
Radio plays, chatter, soft footsteps.

The Big Man arrives.
Kind, gentle, dark eyes.
Soft voice, good hands.
Pulls no punches.

This is what will happen.
He says, do I understand?
The words, of course I do.
The impact? Let's see.

The gas man arrives.
Banters jovially.
Nice of him to try but
I'm beyond all that.

He knows how to put us out
but his experience
of the experience?
Minimal. I asked.

Always throws them, that.
When you ask them if
they know what it is like.
So easy to be glib without pain.

This risk and that.
Do you understand,
they ask once again.
Sign here. "Good luck."

Never had a surgeon
Say, "good luck" before.
Sun's gone in,
It's raining now.

when I was young
the sun always shone
in the summer

the sky was a paint-by-numbers colour
blue thick and solid
always there

the grass was the green
of a dragon’s back
long and populated with insects

birds sung
from morning to night
the air was fragranced with roses

days lasted for ever
sleeping with sand between my toes
dried salt on my skin

we collected winkles for supper
running back up the hill
shells clanking in the bucket

shelling peas on the back step
popping them open
with our thumbs

I know in my heart
it rained sometimes
but it never mattered then

A shadowed moment
whispering with silvered song.
I wait. Will you come?