From the Bench

each day

as she waits

upon the bench

for life to begin

she draws little sketches

of tiny dogs

and malformed branches

of overweight bus drivers

and anaemic teachers of religion

no one notices as she draws

and keeps on drawing

even when the summer rains come

and wash away her papers

she keeps on drawing in the air

with bloody fingers

and a strange fixation for lemons



Copyright October 2016


Blurred Lines

My appointment time

Has come and gone

Late again

We all sit here and wait



I scribble nonsense to keep

The anxiety monkey occupied

Are there really still 3 people before me??

I scream inside

Not wanting to be here

Not wanting the conversation

Tired of people


I want to sleep

In a coffin

Sealed against the noise

And might

Of the world

Nailed from within

A self stasis

Make it all stop!!

As I thud

With my silver hammer



Safely naked inside

Safe from the stakes

And barbs

Of mankind

No!! I don’t know why

A brain implosion??

My decisions took wing

Flew to foreign climes

Decided lives for others

Left me behind

To wallow

In the washing

The shopping

The cooking

Routines of boredom

To guard against

To blur the lines


Copyright August 2013


Here I sit


With heart thudding

4 weeks since

The anonymous doctor

Doped my


To buggery

No more do I write of demons

They’re all asleep

With the dragons

Hiding my treasures

On golden piles

Of sparkling


Guarded by a fire

Of medicaments

Burning cold within my soul

Stifling the writing

And yet

I sit again

Waiting to be doped

Even more

A masochistic urge

To cover myself

My companions

My characters of creation

My free roaming thought pals

To cover all

To choke all

To stomp all over

My writer self

To smother

In nothing


Copyright August 2013