One doesn’t have to
witness the splash
to read the ripples.

Feeling vibrations on
webs if compassion is
empathy, emphasised.

Invisible stitching is the
tailors art, but scars of
emotion cannot be hidden.

All addictions begin in
pain and end in pain.
Only substances change,
the rest remains insane.

Clean, dry, and sober?
That don’t mean a ****,
fear is cortisol dopamine,
we found a perfectly legal hit.

R.E.M.Terrors
(and awake ones)

I’m not just talking of
Dreams and nocturnal
Equines, but why I ask
Are night mares never
Rare up dark stallions?

Mine are, pitch as black,
With fiery eyes of a coal
Glazed un-blinkered stare,
Certainly not, teeth of a gift
Horse. Foaming at the mouth.

It is I am hostage of the corral,
Unable to flee these repetitious
Hauntings, I am wrap trapped,
Bandaged in blankets, mummified,
Rigor mortisly stiffened, with fear.



Ps

If any reader suffers this, I composed
It for you just so you are aware that
I experience it nightly, have done for
Three years, brought on initially by
Grief. It goes in the morning but a
Residue remains throughout the day.

capfiny@gmail.com

If you have any suggestions or if
You need to talk re your own pain.

Leaves glide
Undecidedly
In a breeze

Blown bubbles
Rise beyond
Ones vision

Smoke updrafts
To join passing
Clouds

Balloons fly high
To see if there is
A silver lining

Kites pretend
To want freedom
Yet mostly remain

Boomerangs rush
Off as though they
Will never return

Rain ponds, but
Slowly, it begins
To evaporate

Confetti falls just
Like snow, although,
It is unable to escape

People grow roots,
Then they anchor, in,
The forests of familiarity

God grant me the amenity
To reject the things I cannot exchange
Storage to arrange the things I can
And a woman to know the reference

This Christmas when you
Are seated with a knife &
Fork in your hands, think
Going the species you are
About to carve and chew.
Think about its habitat or
Imagine yourself there on
A farm watching it taken
Away to be slaughtered in
A dank damp dingy ******
Back street shed after being
Beaten and abused on the
Way, then standing while
Waiting to be brought in to
Have its throat cut and try
To imagine the fear and the
Crying sounds and don’t
Forget to feed your beloved
Pets a special treat on this
Special day when disbelievers
Celebrate en masse baby INRI.

This Christmas as indeed the
Last two, you may have been
Aware that I didn’t write any
Letter asking for a present. I
Am “Sans Domicile Fix” in a
Camper Van and as you know,
Homeless people are not able
To avail of anything, not even
A bank account (but then why
Should they have any money).
I would like Rudolf to know I
Am a vegetarian and that I am
Ecstatic that he is enjoying his
Retirement since you have gone
And bought a battery powered
Elon, Eco, Antler Musk Sleigh.