Thursday, 29 September 2011

Blurry nights

There is a feeling in your knees like they just don’t want to work
Because they remember last night better than your brain.
Wondering, you scrape the back of your mind
Exploring every morsel of memory trying to get a proper bite.
You remember being somewhere, somehow,
Without knowing for sure how somehow you got there.
Your face searches to the left, willing a flash of light
And you bury your eyes in your hands again hiding from the unknown.
Something is vivid but only for a second,
Too soon it’s gone again leaving just the whiff of a clue,
And that aching feeling in your knees;
a reminder of a fuzzy night.

Tuesday, 27 September 2011

Beautifully stated

“As we grow up, we learn that even the one person that 
wasn't supposed to ever let you down probably will.

You will have your heart broken probably more than once and it's harder every time.

You'll break hearts too, so remember how it felt when yours was broken.

You'll fight with your best friend.

You'll blame a new love for things an old one did.

You'll cry because time is passing too fast, and you'll eventually lose someone you love.

So, take too many pictures, laugh too much, and love like you've never been hurt because every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back.

Don't be afraid that your life will end, be afraid that it will never begin.”

Sunday, 28 August 2011

No-one likes hospitals

There is a solemnity to the people you see in hospitals.
You see someone and don’t know why they are there,
Those people you see in hospitals.

Boredom seeps from the yawning mouths of
The people you see in hospitals.
Loss and blame writhes through the hallways,
While questions are answered and unanswered again
For the people you see in hospitals.

Pain and worry is shone like a light in their eyes,
Contagious fear rips through the healthy and patient .
Sorrow rises like smoke from the building, a beacon to all,
Reminding us how much we all hate, being
The people you see in hospitals. 

Sunday, 14 August 2011

If the world owes you something............

If you don't like your life, simply burn it down
So you can start again from scratch,
From ashes and mud.

Attack the school that tried to teach you right from wrong,
To teach them a lesson they'll never forget.
Charge the church that offered you peace
And the club that volunteered to keep you warm and dry.
Rattle lampposts and up turn bins
To hammer home your well rounded argument.
Intimidate the buses that get you around,
And torch cars you dreamed you'd own,
If only life was “fair”.

If you are angry that your life didn't turn out exactly as you wanted,
Go straight to the source and make them pay:
The shops and businesses of your own sorry community.
Show them the injustice that bears down upon you
As you bear upon them, with violence and hate.

Stand up and take what's yours - an eye for an eye.
Take terror to the streets you live in,
Until they know exactly who you are.

And when you are finished, and you've made your case,
Stand up in court
And get just what you deserve!

Sunday, 7 August 2011

Tomorrow is the 8th of August

Tomorrow is another day, another year, another moment I have lost with you.
Tomorrow is a reminder that you’re not here and you should be.
It has come around again, too fast to believe.
And still, too long ago was the last time we smiled together.
Tomorrow will be yesterday soon and we will keep moving on.
Forward without you: it’s hard but we try.
Tomorrow is another day, just a day in the long, long year,
Tomorrow will come and go but Muv, your memory is always here.

Thursday, 28 July 2011

10, 9, 8, 7, 6.......

Deep breaths calm me as the strip lighting burns my skin.
Warm air is passed across my body but my feet are cold
And full of doubt.
Eyes look down at me, smiling through masks
Repeating questions - already knowing the answers.
The faint smell of fear shrouded by disinfectant and germs
Tickles at my throat threatening a cough.
A rush of senses sweeps across my chest
- then black.

I'm drunk, I'm confused.
Arms restrict my hands as they check for my face.
Wheels turn and the ceiling moves,
Strip light after light.
It is done. I exhale.
Tears follow relief, follows more questions
- then pain.
Being home

I know the answer to the first question - nowhere
When will I - never.
Got to make do and do what I can
Be better, feel better, look better.
Looks matter more now.
All I have is that look in the mirror
- it smiled in the states,
A state of mind?
A state of madness and love and connection
But the connection's lost,
Even my Internet won't click.
Exchange is fleeting
Signal is weak.
Buses pass me by -
No one will take me where I need to go....
Who will?

Saturday, 18 June 2011

For Father's Day

For the way you raised me to believe in myself and be strong in my mind:
            Thank you
For the way you taught me respect and humility towards others in this world:
            Thank you
For the way you encourage me and allow me to follow my dreams:
            Thank you
For the way you love my friends and embrace them into your life:
            Thank you
For the way you put up with me and my mess:
            Thank you
For everything I know you do to make my life wonderful:
            Thank you
For everything I don’t realise you do to make my life wonderful:
            Thank you
For being bricks and mortar and warmth and strength and love and support:
            Thank you
For being you: Thank you

Monday, 30 May 2011

Love is not simply a combination of two people
It is an invisible connection that binds hearts to souls.
Sometimes love is as sweet as a raindrop sliding across your skin.
Sometimes it is as dry and lonely as an echo in the desert.
Love is the gift of sharing everything you have
And everything you do
And everything you see in this world.
An exchange; a life for a life.
From love explodes something new,
But not just something new, new life
 And not just new life, a new being
And not just a new being but a new generation of being alive, born from love
By Sandeepa Samarasinghe 29th May
Translated by Caro Dixey

Free writing: Love is……

Love is a joke.
Its not real. How can it be?
How can it exist in the souls of thousands people all at once.
Love is beauty and peace,
Sitting in silence without having to think about the next moment.
Love lasts forever. It doesn’t fade or disappear.
It is a tattoo on your heart that you either expose and accept
or you betray your self and the fact that is beating in your chest.
Love is changed, hurt, destroyed, ended and raped by life.
What happens around us corrupts the heart and makes the mind lie to itself to serve its pleasure.
Don’t tell me you will love me forever,
Tell me you’ll try, knowing the truth that
Life; us; you; me; him; her; them; it will always change.
That change is time
And Love is time stopped still.

Thursday, 19 May 2011

How to smoke a cigarette aggressively

  • Before lighting and during smoking ensure that all gesticulations are emphasized sharply with said cigarette.
  • Shake lighter violently and continue roll the flint a number of times before and after ignition.
  • Always inhale twice in one puff letting out a dribble of smoke in between.
  • Rip the cigarette sharply from your lips in a large exaggerated motion. Tilt your head to the sky and pout with your lower lip as you shoot the smoke upwards with an angry exhale.
  • Now bite down hard pulling your lips away from your teeth as you suck in a fraction of fresh air before your next drag.


Wednesday, 23 March 2011


One person always loves more than the other.
Lovers harder, loves longer,
More longingly looking for equal reciprocation
That just isn’t there.
One person always steals that last extra kiss,
One more than was offered:
Head tipped, waiting to be met
While their opposite relaxes (edging slightly back).
One person’s grip is always tighter, always firmer
Making up for another’s casual nature.
One person has to say goodbye first,
hang up first, not look back first.
One person’s only is only for a time,
One person’s forever is always more forever than the other’s. 
This Cambridge

This place of couples kissing on bridges
And Kids rowing boats,
Of ducks waddle-flapping under trees  
That cry fresh water tears into a mirrored floor.
This place where the pushing of wicker is a common affair
And college scarves and emblemed hoods boast refinery and style.
This place of karma and character and calm where I come to be home:
This place is my place.
This place is my heart. 

Friday, 4 March 2011

Tower Bridge

Let me sit and watch the rippling Thames all day in the peace.
Let me drink my bitter comfort
And just feel sad, not need to smile.

Let the pigeon walk in circles around at my feet
And the tall bearded stranger click at the glass and the metal.

Drench me in chit chat and clip clack surround.
Cover me in birdsong callings,
Ringtones in flight.

Let the dredgers drudge the dark flowing tarmac,
Dislodging the calm.
Then let the calm drift backwards, down.
Serenity floating as the city strides along.

And now let me sink, deep in my thoughts
And play at this game without a worry of time.
Let the chill ache through my body
Stimulating, soothingly
A mind busy at rest;
The rest for my mind.

Tuesday, 1 March 2011


CANCER is a word that no-one likes.
It’s sound is fear, hushed tones and wet eyes.
CANCER is a word that no-one wants to say
It’s name is helpless sorrow that flicks to the end of a book with doomed impatience.
CANCER  is a word that’s easily explained - never justified.
It comes to us premeditated, or random, and both.
A lifestyle lottery that decides its own fate.
Blind faith tested late and impending knowledge of the unknown.
CANCER is: a fact, a part
Of our world.
No tears; no anger; no sense of unfairness
Changes the truth that this word delivers.
CANCER is a word. We don’t like to use.
Say it quickly and it isn’t really real, really
Don’t repeat it I heard you the first time,
Understood the echo deafening my mind.
Because CANCER is a word that leads to something.
Hair loss, love lost, life lessons learned
Too often too soon to explain a world too hard to face alone.
CANCER is a word I don’t want to hear.
Not anymore.
Never again. 

Monday, 21 February 2011

(Inspired by extracts from the Greek novel Nai – author unknown)

Sleep sweeter than death,
Death more beautiful than the moon,
If I cannot die I must sleep - sweet suicide.

Don’t fight it, stop fighting. Be calm, be still.
 Clamp my arms to my sides, cross my legs to keep them from running.
Allow my wild heart to beat like crazy:
One two, one two, one two, one two.
Where is three?
Will I ever see three?
Does it come when I stop breathing?

One two, one two, one two, one two. Hold my breath:


My lungs are burning and my face is cold.
Stop fighting, don’t fight it, don’t stop.
Look harder, deep in my heart.
Push longer, look deeper for something that’s not there.



One two, one two, one two, one two, one two, one two, one two, one two.
My heart beats still, a clock in my chest.
The bells are ringing, its three am.
The alarm: a fire, a burglar, the end of time.
Don’t stop, be calm, be slow. Be real.
One two, one, one two.

My hair, my toes, my teeth feel strange.
I weep, hot tears burning my frozen face.
Mascara runs down my cheek bones:
Green, blue, black shadow tumbles from my eyelids.
I am betrayed; my vanity smudged.

I am unique, so special I can never know.
My head is dizzy, my feet still.
Two one, one two one,
Lost count.  
Two. Sleep.
One. Death. Two.
Three eludes me.

Monday, 14 February 2011

A Kiss

C: Are you happy for me?

A: Why wouldn’t I be happy for you?

C: So you’re not.

A: I didn’t say that

C: So why don’t you answer me?

A: Yes. I’m happy for you.

C: I don’t believe you.

A: Then how do I win?

C: Actions speak louder than words

A kisses C – C pulls away.

A: Actions speak louder than words!


B: Why are you laughing at me?

D: I’m not. I love you (kisses B)

B: Stop it.

D: stop what?

B: This. Stop patronising me.

D: I’m patronising you. Great. Thanks. You really know how to ruin a moment.

B: You’re the one who’s laughing

D: (shouting) I’m not laughing! For gods sake stop being so stupid.


E: How much do you love me? What would you do for me?

G: Anything

E: like what?

G: I’d move the moon for you.

E: don’t be stupid.

G: I’m not. I’d move the moon and pluck a star from the sky......

E: Whatever?

G: Well what do you expect?

E: you to take me seriously for five minutes

G: If I say something romantic you’re pissed at me for being stupid. If I say something stupid you tell me to be serious. How can I win?

E: you’re not supposed to.

G: ok so I lose. That’s how much I love you.

E: ok.

G: I love you so much I’ll lose this dumb fight with you everyday for the rest of my life.

E: The rest of your life? (with a laugh) You wish.

G: I hope not. (kiss)

E: as if you could put up with it.

G: I’ll do more than put up with it. I’ll love it.

E: Me:

G: You. (kiss)


H brings F some flowers.

H: What did you do to deserve a boyfriend like me?

F: I just don’t know.

H: I do. (kiss) Thank you

F: what are you saying thank you for? You just got me these.

H: you let me.

F: well life is tough when I’m presented with beautiful flowers from a gorgeous man, but I’m coming to terms with it slowly.

H: I knew you’d cope. (kiss)

F: Will you bring me flowers when I’m old and wrinkly?

H: How wrinkly?

F: oi!! (Kiss) Really wrinkly.

H: Really, really wrinkly?

F nods.

H: Will you let me bring you flowers when I’m  really wrinkly?

F: Maybe.

H: So maybe I’ll bring them.


C: You give me butterflies (kiss)

A: hmmmmm

C: Right here. (points to lower stomach)

A kneals down to kiss the area

A: only the most beautiful butterflies though.

C: (laugh) I can’t feel my fingers.

A: These fingers (holding her hands) They’re still here. I promise. Delicate and beautiful.

C: Stop it.

A: Stop what (stands up) telling you how amazing you are?

C: I’m only amazing when you look at me

A: bull shit

C: you’re my beautiful shoes.

A: your whar?

C: my beautiful shoes. They make me feel special.

A: you are special.

C: but I believe that when I’m wearing my beautiful shoes; when I’m looking at you.

A: couldn’t I be a more manly pair of shoes

C: like my running shoes?

A: well.....

C: what if I call you my doc martins?

A: you do not own a pair of doc martins.

C: I could.

A: someone who uses the phrase beautiful shoes, and uses it as much as you do would never own a pair of doctor martins.

C: whatever.

Wednesday, 26 January 2011

Having a fire every night:

Getting it started is the hardest thing, 
But once its going its pretty easy to keep on. 
A cleansing ritual, 
4 logs a night, 5 if I’ve had a bad day. 
I just watch it.
It makes me feel small, insignificant 
Compared to the heat and power in front of me. 
But sometimes I look and I see vulnerability, 
The hint of fragility in between the flickers.
Coming down in the morning I can smell its remains
Lingering in the corners of the room.
The secrets it charred the night before, 
A memory of the act of forgetting. 
Mother Stage

Each night a new day, no guilt, no fear.
Disappointment is unknown because I am but just born.
Baptised in pools of light and the tears of onlookers relaxing on red velvet
I stand here clean, innocent for a time.

All humanity cleansed through my eyes, the eyes of a child,
Brand new, no scars, unjaded by surviving lies.
Precious moments live lifted off the page,
Nothing lost, still time to win.

All the world watches while life lives in the reflections of patrons.

Tuesday, 25 January 2011


Lines of squares dissected by lines,
Imperfect circles try to meet in the middle.
Divided in half and half again,
A kaleidoscope in black and white
Tying knots in the straightness.
Never ending patterns just above the foundations,
Where shards of the outside spill over the threshold.
Lights flicker and the shadows change again:
A moment snaps, the squares form new lines.
Said and done

When all is said and done.
When can ‘all’ possibly be said and done?
All of what?

It’s a line for the end of the world.
As the galaxies implode
And rush through the universe to return to the start.
Only then should you say to me –
‘when all is said and done’.

Sunday, 23 January 2011

Found writing

Your sadness

When you smile, your whole body smiles.
Your fingers and toes,
Your knees and even your ears beam
With a joy that I never knew was in you.
It is the most wonderful thing in my life.
You lift my mood with your smile,
You make me forget my troubles with your smile,
You’ve changed my life with your smile.

But it’s the same when you are sad.
There are days when I look at you
and can practically see the sorrow pouring from your eyes.
I remember one day wishing I had the courage
to hold you in my arms so that I will never lose you.
As if your beautiful spirit might slip away
if I didn’t hold on to it tightly.
But I never did, and your spirit slips still.

"I write entirely to find out what I'm thinking, what I'm looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear."
- Joan Didion

“In my experience, the best creative work is never done when one is unhappy. “
- Albert Einstein

“If any man wish to write in a clear style, let him be first clear in his thoughts; and if any would write in a noble style, let him first possess a noble soul.”
- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

“Authors who never give you something to disagree with never give you anything to think about.”
- Michael LaRocca

“The only time I know that something is true is the moment I discover it in the act of writing.” “
- Jean Malaquais

“We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospection.” “
- Anais Nin

“Writing is thinking on paper.” “
- William Zinsser

“One of the things that draws writers to writing is that they can get things right that they got wrong in real life by writing about them.” 
- Tobias Wolff

Thursday, 20 January 2011


Totally, absolutely, completely fucking blank.
A frightening thought: the only one echoing in the dark.
- Blank.

Blank, and lost.....
Totally, absolutely, completely fucking lost.
Overwhelmed and under stimulated.

Waiting for inspiration.