When

February 26, 2019 at 8:59 am (Poems) (, )

When there is space for my heart to dance
and my breath is a free beat
untethered by realities
I look longingly at rope and regulations that structure and contain
and artificially create my own from candyfloss and impossibility
knowing I will break through immediately
with an imagination that laughs at the absurdity of self-imposed boundaries.

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Footsteps

August 22, 2018 at 5:09 pm (Poems) (, , , , , )

How do I know where
you went away to that day?
But I imagine

a very thin line
between adjacent spaces –
We can almost touch.

Maybe we could walk
perpendicular pathways
and swap philosophies?

Our respective footsteps
on the dusty paths, a sign
We shared a little time.

Then, dressed in sparkles
perhaps you’ll up and choose to
smile and dance away?

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Coming Home

November 1, 2017 at 11:15 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , )

Often living souls will stray

Sometimes they will tip and sway

But as the tide returns each day

Soon they will come home.

.

Where do catlike spirits fly

Which toil would hold and stultify?

They’re hunting free, but by and by

Soon they will come home.

.

Forget the knots of doubt that bind

us to the clock, uncloak the mind,

reach far beyond, and unconfined

we’ll welcome our souls home.

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Rainbow

January 1, 2013 at 11:25 am (history, literature, philosophy, Poems, poetry, politics, Stories) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Today, in the town squares of all great cities

around this beautiful globe,

we will, by common consent,  remove divisive flags

hung by history’s tainted shreds of angry pride;

folding them away like old aunty’s table cloths.

.

And see draped instead, from mountain heights,

a more fantastic sight; our real heritage.

Reflective of all earth’s passion and intensity

absorbing in amazement all our pain,

this is our rainbow – and the music of a shared song.

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The Curator

December 4, 2012 at 11:07 pm (history, literature, philosophy, Poems, poetry, politics, Stories) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Economically, it was a difficult  time

women itched in woollen scarves

men stamped their frosted minds

a cruel wind blew till their steaming chips were down.

..

Socially, it was a treacherous climb

He clung to the frozen earth with hooked toes

vertically

.

.

impossible

pebbles snapping like dragons’ teeth

stressed grass grazing his aching knees.

.

Astrologically, he read the perfect sign

and chose this day to set his sight

at the hill above vast unmolested sea.

.

At the summit

he would put down his heavy pack

lean his broad back against a small patch of undamaged sky

and watch history unfold.

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Offering

November 29, 2012 at 10:06 am (literature, philosophy, Poems, poetry, politics, Stories) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

In the old place, as you snatched your gaze away from me

I saw our futures in the furniture behind your head,

carved from antithesis, set in stone;

you rolled your eyes across an over- stretched conversation

and years flexed and flew.

.

While I pirouetted into semi dark,

you stuck your colours to the nearest domestic lamp

and remained  stoically moth-like. I hardly dare knock

at our last closed door, fearing the beat of distressed wings,

but I come with fresh baked anodyne,

and if you answer, it will make this new morning blossom.

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Ready?

November 26, 2012 at 8:46 am (literature, philosophy, Poems, poetry) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Time to fix, recycle, sort

make a splendid space for thought

.

Accoutrements will have to go

add-ons may disrupt the flow

.

Stuffed up anger all turfed out?

Bag it; bin the old self-doubt

.

Untangle guilty clasps and chains

dust yourself and breathe again.

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Caged – buy free range

November 4, 2012 at 5:15 pm (literature, philosophy, Poems, poetry, politics, Stories) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

If feather-bare we toured our plight

round Britain’s eleven thousand and seventy two

wire free mile circumference bringing eggs to you

we wing-clipped osteoporosised amputees

struggling along in twos and threes

to bring you scrawny chicken stew

we wouldn’t make a pretty sight

we know you wouldn’t like to see

so we’ll crouch in A4 cages without light

to lay those guilty eggs tonight.

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Views from the Motorway – part II

October 16, 2012 at 8:19 am (literature, Poems, poetry, Stories) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

Red Kites slice twilight skies:
waiters serving cloud cup cakes
upon fine forked tails

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Views from the Motorway – part I

October 15, 2012 at 8:07 am (literature, Poems, poetry, politics, Stories) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Naturist cyclists
pedalling furiously
shiny bells jangling

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