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
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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
BOOM!
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
