We were born to a life
We did not choose
yet
We have the right to choose the life we want

Experiences we gain
Received hands down ,
Some sought
Some pleasant
Some not
Letting us learn
What is right what is not

A few wrongs
Cannot make a right turn
Wrong
There would be someone who would want to correct
The turn left .....
Would have been right

Choose wise
Blessed with instincts
Choose what is your right
Rest assured its the destiny and destination
Which awaits
Of all the decisions you took

When I would visit Ohio, my grandma always said
certain things in Spanish, as to not flood my head.

I wish I understood that secret life she led
by interpreting her knowledge, I know to have been well read,

But now my striving hunger will never be quite fed,
for now those precious, foreign words are unforgivingly dead.

Oh, how I cry very often, at night while I’m in bed.
Regrets like these don’t go away, so I try to cope instead.

I’ll never forget her loving Spanish ***** (that memory’s never fled),
even though my nostalgic heart regretfully succumbs to dread.

all that my eyes can see are reflected
in crystal decanters on window sills
distorted and splintered by spheres
of the light, fading softly into greys
beyond the treeline and the horizon
meeting the earth with an embrace
slowly rolling hills of deep green moss
under roadways of gravel and tarmac
snaking swiftly into the dusky night

over in the corner there's a blanket
it belonged to her mother's mother
years of patches for every life lost
and gained in the birthing rooms
of antiseptic hospitals, quickly
remedied by the wrinkled hands
stained by tobacco and spices
that look rough to an outsider
but are gentler than any doctor's

do you want to know a secret?
i'm so afraid of your touch-
not because you are much bigger
or maybe more beautiful-
there's something that's a little splintered
hiding in my body, and
when people come too close,
       not just people
but the ones who brighten my smile
like Sun's rays in Moon's halo-
and you are somehow a ray of light
brilliant beautiful and
i'm afraid, not that you'll burn
my moonlit body, that
you'll start a fire and fire fascinates me
i get too close and then
i grow too warm and
i won't burn, but you might
and then what will i do?

i'm capable of lust-
surely that's been proven true,
but am i merely lusting
when i gaze at you?

i feel my baser instincts
may have overtaken me before
and now, to some, i have
the reputation of a *****;

but now i smile at your names
and dream about your faces-
and ***** i may be, as i sit
planning visits to all these places.

if i am such a *****,
overtaken by my lust,
why am i heartbroken when
you all leave me, as you must?

silly little ***** i am,
and drowning in that name;
my loves shall ever be my loves,
though they treat me as a game.

Sixty-six years living in a country I respected
Never regretted it, admired, honoured.
Finished!
The treatment of the underprivileged
Is unstainable
The law allows ******
Of the innocent,
Cruelty to the old,
England has failure
Running through
The arterial map
Corruption explodes
Its ***** fingers
In the corners
Where they should
Show love.

Mary x

i am a flower.

i will grow in the sunlight
and bloom under the moon.

i will be plucked by fingers
too greedy to nourish me after.

but i am a flower
and i refuse to wilt in your vase.