Chthonic Cycles


a calm has settled upon me

the tumultuous thoughts of this morning

have settled somewhere safely in a corner

a part of my mind where hurts go to heal


sometimes there is such loneliness in depression

a need for love so strong it manifests as pain

a huge lump in my centre cutting off air

and a blank in my brain where hope once was


this morning I walked with heavy steps in the sun

Churchill’s black dog strained at a tight leash

choking me with tales of nothingness and no need

outsider, no-hoper, social-misfit, crone


it is true, if you wait, another mood comes

hours, days, months later it ventures in

highlighting a flower, a photo, a word

and a small slither of hope enters the world



Copyright June 2017




A Lighted Path

far down below the monsters roar

snapping jaws and rotting limbs

and the cold cold depths of madness

raises skeletal hands, trying to drag me under


I close tight my eyes

so no one can see

and I can pretend to be

a happy being following a lighted path


and never ever look down again



Copyright October 2016

The Letter

Janet stood at the very edge of her property. The toes of her shoes exactly one centimetre from the crack where the footpath and the driveway merged. She had been standing there for the past five minutes having heard the Postman’s motorbike struggling up the hill. She was expecting a letter any day now but, disappointingly, he drove straight past without stopping.

“No post today” she told the cat from next door. “Maybe tomorrow eh Horatio?” Horatio ignored her, jumping up to sit on the letterbox as if in wait for the junk mail.

“Any day now” Janet muttered to herself as she shuffled back inside and sat down to write another letter to the Attorney General. She’d have to pardon her one day. She couldn’t be under house arrest forever.


Copyright October 2015

One Tiny Sprout


Advent Poems Day Six

Once upon a future time in a land where growth is outlawed, a plastic 3D-printed Robot/Human, by the name of Sallee, discovers a lone weed growing in a gap of broken concrete.  Sallee is delighted by this find. All Robot/Humans are well versed in the messy birth/growth/death state of this land in the past, though like all Robot/Humans, Sallee has not previously believed the tales.

One lone dandelion

Push pulled life out of banned dirt

Changes history

Puzzled and intrigued, Sallee visits the dandelion every day, watches as it grows, flowers and seeds. This whole unfamiliar process sends Sallee’s replicated mind into a frenzy of thought. Deep inside a disused memory chip, a small human blows a puff of air.

Scattered dandelions

Seeds venture to sail the winds

Spreading life’s promise

Sallee bends down, picks the seeded dandelion, and blows. Sallee watches as the individual seeds float on wind currents. Some seem to float forever, whilst others drift down and settle on concrete and tarmac. Sallee wonders how many cracks in the world there are, ponders the probability of one seed finding one fertile crack.

Seeds drift on currents

Sprout in the smallest of cracks

Ideas flourish



Copyright December 2013