Trying hard

Trying oh so hard can backfire at parties people walk round you shoulder drop in the ‘make space’ move motioning you to part , Red Sea to their Moses I guess. Weddings are fine you can agree on how lovely it was ,  because most love weddings except you are seated at the thrice divorced […]

Read More Trying hard

Spring Morning

Birds sing springtime songs keeping early hours in my front yard bed so welcoming yet the day has set its hands on my shoulder (that can happen as you get older ) bladder has its own agenda , coffee of course or maybe a strong tea like Mum always favoured too early to eat that […]

Read More Spring Morning

Midnight Drunk

Midnight still , bats in trees chirp in reverie my ritual rivals their glee in drunken misery, open bottle in hand the crazed dance begins tears from ancient wounds flow like streams drop to my bare knee lifting my head high eyeball the indifferent white faced moon accusations flow , where has my life gone? […]

Read More Midnight Drunk


Travel broadens the mind so I have heard yet when I saw groups of tourists in herds ambling down a sacred space with scant regard it is hard to conceive of a more hollow claim ! all the same we like to unwind, leave cares behind let our hollow consumer culture go on parade in […]

Read More Tourists

My Ghost story

My ghost haunts dark corridors of envy where bright blood courses through limbs bodies held in embrace, lips red as flares in my half light bloodless form an echo of footsteps long since stilled by time. This is when I tell of my hopes my humanity dashed by foolish fear or human vanities, yet truth […]

Read More My Ghost story

Deep Sighs

  To wake reaping poor harvests drives blades twisting turning deep into my heart. Shallow shrill streams easily forded left behind babbling in the darkness. Envy’s green talons clutch my shoulders, once broad tolerant platforms now vulnerable to slights,   empty halls hear my finest symphony while my manuscript sheet music I burn in a […]

Read More Deep Sighs

Six Strings

My old six string such sweet love it brings to me , inanimate object ! wood steel wound wire yet that very day I tire of music or a sweet chord suspended in air , then dear friends you may farewell my shrivelled soul because clearly ,  I will be Dead .   CP18

Read More Six Strings