23rd

I discarded a book

back to the library it will go

I’ve had enough of power being abused

and the witchfinder general had to go

 

I need a juicy murder

with meat upon its bones

and twisted lights and livers

with a clear case of comeuppance at the end

 

not a hint of romance in the plot

for romance is a sour and unnatural thing

used to trap the unwary

and those light of heart and wishful

 

in a nightmare

 

 

 

Copyright February 2020

 

 

 

 

 

19th of February

I’m angry

 

today a man killed his wife

himself, and their three children

 

he burned them alive

 

All I can think of is their pain

 

why didn’t he just kill himself

 

yet people still defend him

poor man, he must’ve been driven to despair

it’s all the fault of the family law court

{they favour women you know!

men get such a raw deal!}

 

I want to scream

 

how disrespectful to the dead

to make it all about you

and your agenda

 

but I know I’ll only be trolled

by zealots ignoring reality

instead of mourning the death

of three children and their mother

 

I will not mourn the father

 

anyone who kills their children

so that their wife could not have them

does not deserve anything but contempt

 

children are not something you can own

children are yours to guide to adulthood

the whole purpose is to see your children thrive

 

who knows what they may have done

how many smiles and laughs and tears

have been lost to this world

 

they could’ve cured cancer

invented the best chocolate cake in the universe

made their mother proud

 

I will not mourn the father

for he deserves no such name

 

 

Copyright February 2020

 

 

 

 

 

Murder On The Haiku Express

 

 

Too many people

Crowded station drives me mad

Good to get away

*

Find a window seat

Settle down and people watch

Safely behind glass

*

Would you look at her

Running in stiletto heels

Too sharp for the rest

*

Landscape runs away

Back towards city skyline

Train whistle blowing

*

Dinner served at six

Opposite stiletto girl

Barely ate a thing

*

 

Sat up through the night

Thoughts of impossible things

Long before breakfast

*

Years ago I swore

To take my medication

My forgotten law

*

Breakfast was a bore

Eggs and bacon, toast and tea

No croissants for me

*

There she is again

Tottering on her high heels

All to attract men

*

Smiling and flirting

The old men salivating

I prefer the scene

*

Today I will sit

Watching the Nullarbor sway

Side to side on tracks

*

Perfectly perfect

Dreaming of rainbow serpents

Slithering in red

*

Communal supper

Oodles of noodles and tea

No one talks to me

*

I’m invisible

Wearing my magical cloak

Treading carefully

*

Another dark night

Rattle of the railway tracks

Startled by a scream

*

Emergency cord

Pulled with help of gravity

Of situation

*

Whispers of murder

To and fro along the train

Travelling past me

*

Here come the police

Helicopter rests on land

Previously free

*

Interview us all

One by one we answer true

Truly was not me

*

Through the open door

Death rictus the victims smile

Frozen now in time

*

Stiletto woman

Not a drop of blood in sight

Tablets with her tea

*

Hours later they leave

Accidental overdose

That they all agree

*

World begins to move

Leaving my worries behind

Lightness of my mind

*

Many a lover

Scorned and left for another

Would do as I did

*

I the murderer

My written confessional

Witnessed in haiku

*

 

Copyright July 2019

 

 

Too Little Too Late

I’m so tired today. I’ve cooked and baked and plotted for weeks now. Each day I’ve made his favourite meals and smiled and played the good wife. Tonight it all ends.

Strange I think whilst stirring the stew, he’s been nicer to me lately. I giggle as I remember the over-sweetened tea he’d made for me. Too little too late I softly say as I add more poison to the pot.

 

 

Copyright October 2016