Friday, 21 October 2016

That Tired Spot

A tiny spot
Unseen by most,
Can't wash, don't fade, won't be cast out.

An itch
Beyond reach of tired hands
From sore hearts that worry, exhausted by feeling.

A tiny spot willed away
In spite, despite, a never ending pain.
Too long every day continuing the fight
In vain. In hope for relief to surely come.

A tiny spot
That grows in the night
In crowds of empty thoughts, moments ticking by.
It’s shadow firmly cast on tomorrow’s every promise
As tomorrow’s shadow creeps firmly across the floor.

A tiny spot
Distracted by ambition,
Poked by desire; sunshine and a smile.
Smoothed by beauty, with light and love,
Muffled in friendship: understanding and true.
Calmed by fire, in peace, in rage; suffocated with hatred
And emptiness and wine. And envy and failure and longing and rain and sorrow and blood
And tears that tear at the fabric of everything there 
                                                                                -   but still. Nothing, will ever touch 

                                                                                                           The tired spot.

Sunday, 7 August 2016

That Day

That Day

This is the day, the day it comes:
The day that second, that brings these tears
Writes these words, takes all my strength
Repeats in this world.

This is the day I see your face,
Empty, unmoving – your face but not you.
It’s the day I let real in my heart
A burden too great, a thought too hard,
Until it comes with pained reverence
- That second

I remember the moment - it killed me too.
Took from me what I’d never know
Stole memories old and new. 
Removed my life to a place we never shared
But nothing waited, nothing cared.

The water boiled and the sun went down.
Flowers grew, watered with tears
- An incessant rain that taps on my heart
Like the sound of a clock that never stopped...
Not even for a second. That second,
This one.

Wednesday, 3 August 2016

Mother's Commute

Mother’s Commute

Look at me Mama!
- I’m looking at my phone
But I want you to look at me
- Stop distracting me please
Can I see? Whatcha doing?
- I said, don’t touch.

Look at me Mama!
- I just got a message
Who is it? For me?
- It’s private, don’t do that.
Can I tell you something Mama?
- I’m busy, don’t speak

Look at me Mama!
- I’m talking to someone
Can you talk to me now?
- Only when I’m done
School was fun today
- Good, now don’t move.

Do you love me Mama?
- Of course I do.
Will you look at me now?
- I see you child, but I’m busy
Ok Mama but…
- But what I’m –

I’m all grown up now.

Monday, 4 January 2016

But Today...

But today…

I knew pain, I’d lost, I’d wept

I knew helplessness and hopes abandon; but today…


I knew wringing my hands, my heart of tears

Tearing down my life, clouding every breath

Each long inhale taking the misery deeper in my being

A figure stood alone; but today… I cannot breathe.


I’d picked myself up, worked hard for every smile

Kept warm on only memory, the remembrance of joy

I carried on, pushed forward against the world

With all my self, my will; but today… I’m strong no more.


I knew of unfair hands, pure hearts unravelling without cause

Too soon: taken too far, too cruelly from them they love

I thought I was safe, my scars, they were healing…

And then today…Today, again…