#blitz
You lay there in the hospital bed blind and legless. You depended on your hearing to discover what was going on around you. Your leg stumps were bandaged and as you lay there you felt like so much meat on a butcher’s bench. You had visitors now and then like Donald and Guy, but few others. Your house had been bombed in the air raid and your maid had been killed. You lay there going over it in your mind, how your lover Clive had been killed in Dunkirk, how you and he made love that last night together before he went and joined his regiment. Now a memory, and you doubted anyone would make love to you anymore. Donald had brought along with him the other day a man named Philip with him whom you didn’t know. He was soft spoken and asked questions. You wondered what he made of you sitting in the wheelchair in the open air of the hospital, blind and with bandaged leg stumps. Anthony another friend of Guy’s who you met a few times came once, but hardly spoke, and you could imagine him gazing at you with displeasure. He talked about the war and about his engagement in war work of some sort. You lay there and it was all going around in your head, but you were glad you were now alive and not dead.
Feb 26, 2025
Feb 26, 2025 at 3:26 AM UTC
Notice the Spring
Notice the Return
Return of flight
Return of light
Light the Earth
Light my life
Life with her
Life in color
Color of birth
Color me rose
Rose to prune
Rose up above
Above the seas
Above the blooms
Blooms of angels
Blooms that endure
Endure the frost
Endure what’s lost
Lost in her
Lost in March
March of longing
March to me
Me in white
Me in forgiveness
Forgiveness is here
Forgiveness on lips
Lips on cheeks
Lips down beneath
Beneath your bones
Beneath, I’ll be
Be yours forever
Be mine for always
Always my darlin’
Always like honey
Honey so sweet
Honey I’m home
Home like hive
Home of seasons
Seasons of change
Seasons of growth
Growth like moss
Growth of soul
Soul on tap
Soul in soil
Soil of her
Soil of Spring
Spring has arrived
Spring of love
Love
Spring
Mar 24, 2025
Mar 24, 2025 at 6:53 PM UTC
Knit you a sweater
Knit us together
Together by dawn
Together by dusk
Dusk and cicadas
Dusk is a blanket
Blanket in blue
Blanket in music
Music hums soft
Music for nights
Nights like this
Nights in spring
Spring with rain
Spring with flowers
Flowers by porch
Porch well-loved
Porch with wood
Wood swing and chairs
Wood swing sways
Sways like dancers
Sways like strands
Strands of hair
Strands that curl
Curl your fingers
Curl ‘round mine
Mine for now
Mine to keep
Keep you close
Keep me safe
Safe to touch
Safe in here
Here we lay
Here we breathe
Breathe in sync
Breathe out words
Words like poems
Words like rivers
Rivers running
Rivers rushing
Rushing forward
Rushing out
Out my lips
Out to yours
Yours for years
Yours always
Always you
Always me
Me…
You.
Mar 18, 2025
Mar 18, 2025 at 4:39 PM UTC
You say your life is over but it’s only just begun
Didn’t think you’d make it past the age of twenty-one
No guarantee tomorrow day will bring another sun
You can’t see what’s in front of you, you can’t see what’s behind
Clear your eyes, I’m standing right before you
Let the moment fill you for a little while
Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 4:45 AM UTC
In the courtyard
No birds, no bees, no beasts, no life
Dying flowers, dying plants, dying trees, thinning air
Red brick on crooked cobblestones on a poor foundation
Crummy TV showing bunk shows for people with free time
Scratched vinyl floors with water stains breaking apart
Seats taken by empty frames with empty minds
I’m waiting on friends who don’t know their way
If they don’t arrive, the day will remain the same
Nothing
Sitting
Drowning in the grey
Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 4:30 AM UTC
It was a night of manic dreams and
Ear shattering ringers from smoking cigars
Beyond counting.
I thought puffing one would bring me
Sunshine
It dumped me in a hole.
I never stay in one place long enough
To take care of what needs taking care of.
On the hustle from one cloud to the next.
Happiness flooding my veins
Till I can’t take any more of it
Then I spend days in a freezing cold bed
A house that isn’t mine
Stuck in a hole
Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 4:18 AM UTC
The state of things
It’s a crisis
The shame it brings
It’s a crisis
Isolation
It’s a crisis
Mass hysteria
It’s a crisis
Senseless dying
It’s a crisis
Divided nations
It’s a crisis
Spreading virus
It’s a crisis
But the rivers are flowing
Clear. The trees are growing
Years of filth walking astray
Birds are singing
Voices ringing
Through sacred skies of blue and grey
The blind now see the sun rays shining
The worst of times have silver linings
Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 4:10 AM UTC
She came from a broken home
She moved to New York to become an editor
He fled Belfast City to make his way as a fighter
After his brother was blown up in a car bombing
It was summertime when the ocean breeze
Climbs up the hills, flows through the fields into the trees.
He could see the harbour. He could see the city lights
The tall buildings, the millions of people
He was alone, lonely, alien, afraid.
Their paths intersected by mere chance
By the ball fields on the edge of town
Their eyes met each other
As a summer storm blew in over the field
The grey clouds rumbled
And rained down on them
They ran into the trees for cover
In their scant summer clothes.
Their heads turned slowly as their eyes met for a second time
The laughter started when he said the rain ruined his haircut
They embraced
They kissed
They made love in the rain
She took him back to her place and did it all over again
He moved into her apartment on the ugly side of town
They would talk about the state of things
The pandemics, the hysteria, the great writers
The music, the people they hated, the people they loved
They were at home with each other
One day he woke up to find
She had gone
And not left a single thing behind
No note, not even a goodbye
He never fought another fight
He drove around town for days chain smoking cigars
The ones she hated the smell of but told him he looked
He looked like a movie star when he smoked them
He went to the undertaker and asked if they did walk-ins.
He drove up the mountain
Where people dumped their garbage
He looked down the cliff to see the unwanted refuse.
“That’s me.” he said.
His body was never found
The undefeated fighter met his match.
She delivered the knockout punch.
Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 3:58 AM UTC
He made
shop mine
whoa the
bit on
his cob
have laggard
him as
their blitz
was hers
and their
juvenile must
throb wherein
nothing matters
these skewers
in prodigal
part of
our tell
Nov 3, 2019
Nov 3, 2019 at 7:32 AM UTC
Noises around
and I am
blanket bathed.
I stare up
but see only darkness
my blind eyes bring.
The nurses talk
between themselves
as they wash me
intimately.
My leg stumps
are unbandaged
and air gets to them.
They talk about
a new young doctor.
I think about nothing
but everything.
I sense them
wash me.
Dampness
refreshes me.
I vaguely remember
the bombing
and then nothing.
I wish Clive was alive
and here with me.
Philip came yesterday
and talked to me.
He is Guy's friend
and works
in the Foreign Office
he said.
He wants
to take me out
for dinner.
I am half
a woman now.
The nurses dry me gently
then rebandage the stumps
and dress me
and wheel me out
into the sun.
I sit alone
with birdsong sounds
nearby.
I am undone
and want to cry.
Jun 1, 2018
Jun 1, 2018 at 3:14 PM UTC
Grace remembered an explosion
a flash of light then darkness.
The darkness never went. She
knew she was awake by the
sound of voices and people
passing by. She called out.
Some one came to her and
took her hand. It's all right
you are in hospital the soft
voice said. Hospital? Why am
I in Hospital? Your house
was hit in the bombing
the other day the voice said.
She stared where the voice
came from. Why can't I see?
The doctors are not sure
but it maybe just temporary
blindness the voice replied.
Grace felt down her side.
I can't feel my legs? The voice
hesitated. They had to be
amputated. A shock ran
through her head. She tried
to sit up but she couldn't.
Both legs? The voice was
soft in reply. Yes they were
a mess crushed and trapped.
She couldn't take it in. What
about my maid she was in
the house? She was killed
I am sorry to say the voice
replied. Grace stared into
blackness. The sounds
about her seemed far away.
We will do all we can for you.
I wish I'd died she murmured
then turning away she cried.
Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 12:13 PM UTC
Sound and fury
Sound of silence
Silence is golden
Silence is silver
Silver needs polished
Silver makes coins
Coins that jingle
Coins that spend
Spend your paycheck
Spend your time
Time passes slowly
Time passes fast
Fast and furious
Fast for Lent
Lent before Easter
Lent him my car
Car is broke down
Car won’t start
Start your engines
Start out right
Right makes might
Right hand man
Man nor beast
Man woman and child
Child of heaven
Child of earth
Earth rotates
Earth is round
Round ‘em up cowboy
Round the bend
Bend an ear
Bend a knee
Knee **** reaction
Knee length socks
Socks in a drawer
Socks in the wash
Wash your hands
Wash your face
Face your demons
Face the wall
Wall of sorrows
Wall of rain
Rain is dreary
Rain from clouds
Clouds are forming
Clouds gray and black
Black tie optional
Black is my mood
Mood
optional
Apr 27, 2017
Apr 27, 2017 at 7:57 PM UTC
Life changing
the Blitz bomb
took my sight
and my legs.
Clive gone too
at Dunkirk.
I recall
our last kiss
as the train
left London.
I sit in
this darkness.
Hospital
smells around
and voice sounds.
Morning Grace
a voice says.
My blind eyes
turn around
to the sound.
Who is it?
I enquire.
Doctor Clay
I have come
to see you
and see how
your stumps are
the voice says.
They're painful
I tell him.
Nurse we need
Grace to be
lying down.
Between them
they lift me
on the bed.
Fingers lift
my nightdress
and unwrap
bandages.
Fresh air hits
the leg stumps.
His fingers
examine
what is left
of my legs.
They're healing
very well
he tells me.
Soon we will
have someone
sort you out
for new legs
he informs.
I thank him.
He goes off
and the nurse
(small fingered)
now attends
to some fresh
bandages.
As her fingers
touch my thighs
I recall
Clive touching
me there too
that last time
before he left
for the War.
I stare out
into dark
cold spaces
and a far
away shore.
Mar 10, 2017
Mar 10, 2017 at 9:12 AM UTC
As I turn my blind eyes
to the sun(I feel its warmth),
I think of the Degas paintings
that Clive took me to see
at a London gallery: the
colours and the figures and
the shades of blues and pinks.
Now it is just a memory, and
as I sit here in the hospital
grounds in the wheelchair,
I have a sudden panic knowing
I will never see again, never
see a rainbow or see a blossom
or see the sunrise, and know
that Clive will never come again,
not since his death at Dunkirk,
and that last kiss, that last time
of making love, and I know I
shall never make love again,
and feel with my hands to where
my legs used to be, and feel
the bandaged stumps, and feel
them there, my fingers moving
over them. The sun is still warm
on my head, and when I turn my
face to the sun, I sense a kiss from
a while ago, and will I kiss again?
I ask myself and I want to know.
Nov 29, 2016
Nov 29, 2016 at 7:53 AM UTC
Sometimes bad things happen when you let people in:
It’s easy to be fooled by your feelings within
And harder to really see what hides beneath the skin.
Building up walls is simple and hasty
The perfect defense if used with strategy
But after time it won’t be so easy.
People try to break your barrier
The damage makes the threat even scarier
And you run because you know you can no longer carry her.
What’s the point in trying to protect your heart?
When you and everyone will always stay apart
Because your “genius” walls aren’t so smart.
She’ll give up when you keep lying
And you’ll blame her for “not trying”
Cause you now feel like you’re dying.
So stop fighting and watching your own mind
You’d be surprised at what you’d find
When you let her in blind.
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 3:03 PM UTC