Long empty spaces
fill with echoes of time passed
deafening silence

That's me in the mirror

Slightly worn

Pages torn

Dropped in the bath

Marked with the inky notes of life

A dog eared copy

Of the girl I used to be

Do you ever wonder how the world became so *******
who took this little blue ball and shook it so the pieces rattled
did we lose the picture on the box so we don’t know how it looks
we could all try being kinder, which is how it’s meant to be
but the last time someone said that we nailed them to a tree
we currently face extinction and a halt to evolution
perhaps that is the answer and a possible solution
maybe the human race as such is into extra time
I don’t have all the answers
why don’t you complete the rhyme

I have walked the bitter road

Where tangled briar romps

It is a place for dying

The twisted path for twisted thought

Minds bent out of shape beneath hanging branches

A narrow lonely place, built for one to travel

Uneven ground beneath unsteady feet

Landing is hard, rising harder still

Some fall, some follow the sign to lighter daysWhen you leave the bitter road

A little dry earth will cling to your feet

Because It never leaves you

Teeth in jaws that snap

Beyond the tongue that twists and winds

The trap that binds you to your word

Once beyond those tombstone markers to the world

All hope is lost for yet another lie uncurled

To wind itself like smoke

To choke and wrap around your slender throat

To make you wish you never spoke a single scarlet word

And those you hurt had never even heard!

Music is a joy
more pure in every fluted ringing note
than we could ever hope to find
forgetting all our own desire
on ever soaring wings of smoke and fire
it leaves the petty cares of man behind
and reaches out for something higher

A pebble in a sea of glass

Shattered mind raindrops

Fragile as cobwebs

Sun strong and shadow deep

Infinite and fleeting

Planet sized in the palm of your hand

Belief is everything

And nothing at all

Spend an early hour on the shore
sit for a while
talk if it helps to calm your fears
tell the wind
let iron sand and rushing water be your listening ears
for only they can hear

What is it makes us take that flight
on wings of fancy, chasing words that keep us up at night
obssessed invaders of our every waking daytime thought
they rule our lives
until at last the writing’s done
we float to earth to rest and sleep
until we start another one

Words you once read

Voices long dead

A silent sonata

Of sounds in your head

People are rivers
some are deep
some are shallow
some are a little bit twisted
some you definitely don't want to cross
and others are just wet and full of crap!

The winds of change

Are blowing

We need to hear them sing

Open up and listen

To alarm bells as they ring

Learn from this experience

Like we never did before

This virus isn't kidding

It's already gone to war

Casualties are many

No-one wants a million more!

Winter crows
who cling to stalks of freezing  corn,
bathe in better times to come
and drink the glow of summer not yet born

The craft of seeing

What could be

Creating

And making  

A possibility

Letters in the blood
a hardwired poets brain
built for words not numbers
language flows within each vein

We are chequers from the same box

Sailing in the same leaky boat

We all bail

We get to stay afloat

We don't bail

Then we fail

So think

Do you really wanna sink?

The definition of a maniac
someone who shares
the same locked wardrobe of dark thoughts
that you do
but they found the key
tried them on for size
and wear them to dance in the streets

The grave
a quiet place of tumbled stone
which covers cold and ancient bone
which once was warm as you or I
and in our turn we too will die
fragile life to fragile dust
we live as every creature must
fixed in time of certain span
and then return whence we began

A thousand fallen souls

They leave no footprint

Make no sound

Walking silently

On dusty ground

Following the road

That leads to nowhere and beyond

A borrowed  knife without a blade

The sharpest sting

Slices deep and plunges in

Down through mango stone and bone

Soft beneath the outer skin

Reveals the running juice within!

Romeo
you were the East
but there was no sun
for you and Juliet
a drip of light
new sprung
from a talented quill
then darkness
stolen moments
briefly given
then taken
puppets
in the mind of your
creator

A feather in the wind

dances

and knows nothing of direction

a free flying thing

without the slightest notion

that others find it beautiful

as they watch it skip and dive

gently landing and taking to the air once more

it has no cares

no timely worries

a happy child of the elements

chasing the libertine breeze

little knowing how much we would like to follow

Everyone brought flowers
oh so many pretty flowers
to grieve with me through the hours
and to take the pain away
roses and daffodils in every shade and colour
because they wanted to say something, but they didn’t know what to say!

The dove of my dreams has flown
out through the window of day
to the place where she roosts
high in the rafters of my head
sometimes she will turn pigeon
and bring me confusing ****** stuff
but mostly she brings peace
sleep well little dream dove
I hope to see you later

Today is jade,
cloudy,
with a chance of tears

Water on my mind
Sometimes murky sometimes clear
A pool of thought fish

Love is like chocolate

Sometimes Sweet

Occasionally bitter

Now and again a little too much

But you always end up wanting more!

Draw down the waning moon
****** the gentle light of fading stars
take not their shine
to be extinguished one by one
I love you
let this night be never done

Why do we do it?

we who pluck the air

for spare and fleeting words

which do not come

although we call them

to our waiting arms

they do not play the servant

but we call them master

as we seek to turn them to our certain will

they twist us in return

riding on the freedom of their sweated backs

to have them cast us falling

to the pit below

we taste the bitterest wine

of dark despair which fills the foggy air

they will not let us sleep

and keep us trapped and tied

to do their restless bidding in our heads

although we know full well

how words are fickle fleeting things

we cannot help but wait and long for further flight

beneath the shadowed freedom of their ceaseless beating wings

Wallop, then you hit me with a ten foot pole
love is supposed to be a gentle beautiful thing
not a sock to the jaw or a knuckle sandwich
what did you do to my heart you ******
kicked it into the gutter that's what
then you jumped up and down
and ran me over like a number nine bus
driven by a maniac
ok I give up
hands in the air and waving a white flag
I love you!

If you take my words
you are stealing sand
which belongs to everyone,
there is plenty on the beach,
we share a bucket of language
play, make a tower of your own devising,
the castles I build are mine, and mine alone

Hills can be short

And they can be tall

Some people make them

From nothing at all

The climb’s not a question

Of strength or of will

It’s always the climber

That makes the hill!

Early morning

In the cool calm of a Sunday

Before the world has got its boots on


Flat and calm with possibility

Grey water

For a sleepless wanderer


Listening

To the roar of silence

Both deafening and beautiful

We sipped our fill from this years beer
until at last we came to winters snowy dregs
with whetted lips and foam still fresh upon the tongue
knowing that in time spring’s ale will surely come,
for now we mourn the empty ailing year
what once was fine and foaming full is done

Look at any window

lights without blinds

other peoples tables

snatched fragments of their lives

gone in a moment

forgotten

maybe they wonder all about you

in the reflection of your passing car

caught in the tail lights of a memory.

Clinging spider webs
settle on the frosted tomb
of a loving heart

Stuck coming down the slide
since lockdown made my *** too wide
when I was bored and trapped inside,
eating home made cake and bread
has caused my lardy bits to spread
I should have munched on fruit instead

Flowers on winter wood, don't mind the dark and brave the stinging cold

they flourish as the frost takes hold

winter flowers know full well the joy they bring

is twice as much as blossoms born in spring

Summer’s lease is over,
fall has settled in,
the knuckle bones of winter,
are showing through his skin

Walk to the edge
where words lie unspoken
silent and broken
on the rocks of the sea of you
if you cannot fish for words
how can you feed yourself
when you hunger for more
along this lonely and uncertain shore

Found floating among the ****
one beach shoe sized five
what happened to the other one
because we never found it
perhaps it went with you into the wide blue waves
a faithful companion and foot soldier
comfort for the journey you never said you were making
you might have to hop through eternity
that would be silly
and you never did like cold feet

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

If I were to end it,
pull the cord and douse the cabin lights for good,
it would be here at the high bluff
salt tang in my hair blowing free to the lighthouse
the blue blue gem of the sea below
this is what I want, if I should ever choose to go
It does not mean I will
just that I might like it to be so

*Such a Beautiful Place