Inner Child


staying within the lines

is not a metaphor for life

even if you feel in colour


choose the mood to suit the hue

sharpen your pencil with a tongue

watch your inner child concentrating



Copyright September 2017



Ratios of Time


following the thread of fragile thoughts

she weaves in and out of traffic

upsetting the rhythm of of red and green and amber too


after the horns and curses in foreign tongues

have faded into distance and tarmacadam

she settles by the lake and hums in tune


humming with the bees and flies and spinning webs

she watches fish dance in the shallows under ripples

moving ever outward in growing ratios of time


time itself passes as slowly as the flapping wings

of an albatross skysurfing the ever changing currents

surrounding this lonely planet hanging by a thread in milky space



Copyright September 2017

The Sabbath


she slams the door

and the whole world shakes

and shatters


tiny fragments of a dream

re-emerge under blankets

and daylight


the monster forms

testing neonate plastic wings

and horns



Copyright September 2017



sitting on my chest

biding time like a hibernating worm

smugly knowing its survival is ensured

even if the axe severs the essence

from the fat and gristle and bone

I’ll still feel the weight pressing

down until the ribs bend

and crack along the edges

revealing glimpses of a heart

slowly beating in indignation

boom boom skip boom boom skip

boom titty boom titty boom



Copyright September 2017