What makes a country?


A nation


A state


What seals your fate?


An unbreakable tie


Of course you can lie


Say you come from elsewhere


No one will care


But deep down inside


You know you can't hide


No matter how far


Or how fast


You run


Your tribe


Is inscribed


On your soul


A part of your whole

Olives are round

They don't make much sound

When slipped in a drink

Plink!

Green or black

Think how far back

Man decided to eat

This little treat

Romans on couches

Those toga wearing slouches

Enjoyed them

Employed them

To liven their food

It would be rude

Not to give them some praise

So please stand up and raise

A glass

To pure class

[I give you the olive]

I thought I did

But I don't

Need you

To validate me

I can be

And do

Whatever I like

So take a hike

Get on your bike

Pedal away

It's independence day!

Soul flame

Flickering  life

A gentle burning

Smouldering until the end

When the light fades

A tiny glow

Then out

Leaving only smoke

And the essence of memories

Sitting on her suitcase

Waiting

In a near empty street

The other kids

The teachers

And the coach

Went  home

Long ago

Seven years old

Small and pale

A dreamy little oddball

With long red hair

It needs a wash

Like she does

Everybody else

Is at home having tea

She is still waiting

None will come

They often forget her

With a sigh

She gets up

Dragging the case

Down the hill

They are all surprised

When she arrives

She cries

They call her a little drama queen

She takes the case upstairs

And keeps the baggage in her head for fifty years

She is my ghost

And I am hers

We haunt each other

Winter sunrise on my last and longest day,

wrap me in a winding sheet of flaming orange

take the reds and pinks from midnight blue to make my shroud

let me rest in heaven fire

drown my tired soul in colour

drinking the final carnival

warmth for my bones,

a funeral of skies and wonders

You don’t need religion
Or any kind of God
You can still be thankful
Because life can be a sod!

If you are still alive and kicking
And feeling pretty good
Give thanks your ticker’s ticking
Just because you should!

There must have been a morning

That followed the first night

A newly minted dawning

And a step into the light

A creature on a hilltop

Noticing the glow

A spark of bright divinity

Happening below

Wide eyes that gazed with wonder

As darkness turned to flame

At Heaven ripped asunder

Did they even have a name?

I wish that I had been there

To bathe in that first light

The sky all dipped in glory

Now that would be a sight

An old violin
Is seasoned with tears
Hundreds of years
Of playing out loud
Pleasing the crowd
Have soaked right on in
Something strange
In the range
Of an old Violin
It's a reality
They form personality
Their own unique sound
Which can only be found
On that set of strings
And the music gets wings
Beauty and death
Laughter and sin
Are the notes that you play
On an old violin

A mashed banana car crash of a morning

Messy and awkward

Words won't heal

Actions are not enough

To **** the silence

Anger heats the room

To a cold simmer

Resentment boils away below the surface

Occasionally something will bubble to the top

The elephant in the room

Lurks, as you dance around him

The clock ticks

Showing it is way too soon

For the building blocks of memory

To start their slow repairs

For now it's just a band aid

On an open wound

So deep you could drive a bus through it

The smashed embers of words that hang unsaid

And the ones you should never have used

It will settle but never leave

Someone will bring it out

Like that ugly Christmas china you always hated

Sad

But you will all learn to live with it

Eventually!

Some people are bananas
They may look fine
But underneath they are bruised
You never know
Until you peel back the layers
And find the damage
Be careful with bananas
They are easily crushed

Click
Whirr
Digital purr
Time is torn
A memory is born

A pebble in a sea of glass

shattered mind raindrops

fragile as broken cobwebs

sun strong and shadow deep

infinite and fleeting

planet sized in the palm of your hand

belief is everything

and nothing at all

Dare you follow the old road?

The one that leads to everywhere and nowhere

You with your masks and Jack ‘o’ lanterns

Will you take that path into the mountain?

Where midnight pixies dance to the sound of a flaming violin

And the night birds with their wicked lonely eyes hover, ceaseless in their search for prey

Keep your gaze on the way ahead

Never look around

You don’t want to see

The darkling things that are waiting

But they can see you!

Come with me to the broken table

Give up your Soul

Sit and dine with the dead and the ****** and those that aren’t too sure

Feast with us

And leave this tattered weary world behind

Halloween is play for children

Follow me to the old road

Real darkness lives there…

In a garden

Long ago

The power of words

Began to grow
  
Words can twist

And they can charm

A serpent sting

Creating harm

Words have power

A Surgeons knife

To wound

And scar

And blight a life
  
Words will travel

Lightening fast

They jump the world

And they will last
  
A  word of hate

Let free to roam

Will wander very far

From home

Words can bring us beauty too

To gives us back a summers hue

Or paint the world an icy blue

In that garden long ago

The power of words

Began to grow

That serpent's coils unwound

It's true

But there must have been

A poet too

The night is daughter to the moon

The sun her father

Wilful and wild

Secretive


So unlike her serene and graceful mother

Or her bold papa

She hides where they shine

Unseen and often unheard


Keeper of secrets

Dark eyed girl of mystery and magic

Singular blue child

Of many questions

And few answers

My sly and stalking beast

Which jumps and catches unawares

Grey light from within

A candle dimmed

Hidden from the world

Exhausted heart

Of half remembered dawns

******* slowly

On the fog

That is myself

I cannot feel

Until I cut

And bleed myself  

A path of living words

To follow to the light

When strands of night become day

Deepest purple turns to lilac gold

Quietly chasing away the lingering white of the stars

When ragged day becomes night

A fiesta of reds and orange

Boiling into the heavens beyond the horizon

The gentle dawn and the evening carnival

Inviting humanity to stop and gaze across the ages

United in a simple act, the colour of wonder

Fate, I do not know your name

Remove the stars

Shake them from the heavens

Like brightest rain


Cover me in a glittered cloth

Of fire and light

Set the night

Ablaze


Remove the dark

And let me be that spark

Which sets the heavens all aflame

Grief is a room

It has no doors

No one can join you

For each of us has our own


You sit in the centre

On the hardest chair

Wondering how you will escape and join the world again

Leaving the sorrow behind


You take the sadness with you when you go

It is a burden all must carry

You will learn to manage the load

One of the many rocks we must bear on our journey through life


One day you will leave

The walls will know when it is time

You will see the crack of light under an exit you never even knew was there


Do not fear it

Embrace its protection

This room

Is a womb

A writer is
A farmer of words
We sow the page
And harvest
Stories

I watch at first light

Summers dawn

As it ripples over daisy fresh grass

Not yellow like syrup or honey

Sharp and green and cool

With the possibility of peace

He sleeps

Quietly folded into a bedside chair

Like an old newspaper that someone else has read

Time to shut the pages and say goodbye

For me the tale is told

He will wake and find me gone

Our story is done