Thematics example: Sound/Physical Feel/Emotional Feelings

The plate fell and screamed itself to pieces on the hard kitchen floor.
Her soft heart couldn’t take it anymore so it sobbed through the night.
She hated the way she looked even though she was beautiful when happy.
But she was rarely happy, her face was silent like solid stone.

All she wanted was some loud attitude, a confidence to lift her smile.
The gentle whisper of self love to melt the icy critic within.
She wanted the love she gave to her chosen few, all she could hear was sirens.
So she screamed like the plate to build herself again with a firmer foundation.

With you in the kitchen of primary colours

All of a sudden I collapsed
Fairies around my head
Blue birds in my beard
A fleshy bag on the floor

Leaking fluid a silhouette
In the sun rays upon the tiles
I’m sure one day you’ll be there
To pick me up and sit me down

My red number one fan
Far away in the sub tropics
Eat your favourite food
That will make me happy

United by cats and sadness
We are twins separated
By six thousand green miles
And only our waking lives

Thank you for all your love
Thank you for your patience

Kitchen Time Travel

Wassup, my guy?
This kitchen stinks,
Thoust no selfe respect,
Clean up bet, for if thee doth not,

Thou shalt rot.

Spores flye aloft the aire,
Forthy blyght dost linger upon þín walle,
Blæc fyne ond molde,
Swamm ond þá swarrinias.

Mín wēste cyćenan.

How to remember when it’s bin day

Try to stick to what you can control; your thoughts and your actions
To me we’re all one but you separate us into factions

Sing a song, you need to speak up, no solace in your silence
When you are attacked, scream loud enough to show your defiance

Argue with yourself, accept it all but don’t let your standards slip
Nature is fierce, let it happen, don’t underestimate it

So here’s what I recommend to you in life my dearest friend
Live in the now, you can finish without tying up loose ends

Mix up your pithy aphorisms with some obvious truths
Disrupt automatic reactions with startling out there blues

Feed everyone in your life, they’ll be happy with bellies full
Relax when on high alert, guard down, let your senses lull

Listen to the rhythm of everything around you, tune in
Listen for the chance to quieten people’s blustering, and win

Acceptance is the key to the door; of the room where there’s peace
Harmony is the piece you play loud; in the space where sounds cease

So go on your way, live for life today, remember bin day
So go on your way, live for life today, remember bin day


Born of great strength
A gentleness to penetrate the coldest heart
From childlike naivety
Grows unconditional empathy

Responsibility and passion
Are opposite sides of the same coin

Quietly a guardian rises
Out of the ashes of his ancestors
An enormous oak
Cultivated from the most nurtured seed

A touch from the greatest roughness
Softly crafts unending compassion

The patient gardener
Is a master of continuous life giving water
The precise touch
Of calloused hands builds a safe sanctuary

Those who are used to the dark
Illuminate the path for loved ones

In the black void
Glow the eyes of the warmest love
Cold endurance
Softens the sound of ten thousand sirens

The greatest emotions one experiences
Often come from great physical prowess

The softness of the most effective caregiver
Can be as hard and full of potential as uncarved wood

So when you are cold and numb
When you are dense and unyielding
When you sit alone in the dark
You may be developing qualities

Of the mother of all things

Day 13704 (written a while ago)

Day 13704 on planet Earth.

Yet again I find myself sat alone in a room listening to structured melodic sounds watching a moving image of people hitting spherical objects around a very large green table with sticks whilst I drink tea and wonder what is happening in my life.

The Alarms That Ring True (Pithy Aphorism #1337)

Hey why is your voice getting louder and louder?
Are you ok? Do you want some help?
Silence will not change the world but please don’t deafen me.
I know this is not a quiet time for internal reflection,
So I will listen and I will be your mirror.

Truth will eventually win but the difficult part is lies are often louder.

So let the change come with a reasonable volume
Made of a great number of gentle voices, mirror upon mirror.
Let’s make it happen like it was done by nature itself
Like it was destined all along

Sound is born of silence
Brilliant light is born in the dark


Spin the black circles like a hypnotist
Keep me moving through the night
A beat worthy of Borscht
And sounds like puppet strings

I want to dance
Festive fever
Unbroken trance
Under your spell

I am an animal dancing
One of a select few

Beautiful Jin And Jun

Golden leaves like needles
The finest tips of springtime
Water a few minutes off the boil
You make everything better
Steep after steep
The flavour keeps climbing

You travelled far from Tongmu village
Nestled in the Wuyi mountains
A long way down the Silk Road
You fell into my teapot
Brew after brew
A potion for my headache

The Grey City

Drab grey concrete shared by pigeons and starlings
People bustling through in close proximity
The sky is closing in, says my feelings
Rain starts as I navigate anxiety

Some say they miss the comfort of feeling sad
That the sun never breaks the numb hazy clouds
With lies and conspiracy I don’t feel mad
This medicated daze is the fog that shrouds

Greyscale reality blurs what’s real and not
A new bold extension of my colourblind eyes
Despite this I now feed the pigeons a lot
In this overcast city you can hear my cries

Eclipse in the city

The city of the moon makes me smile
It really spreads my cheeks for a while
Darkness soaks through my skin to the bone
As I let rip upon my throne

Day/Night Kisscatch

Shadows dance in the morning light
Patterns on my wall for the cat
Chasing dreams outside the cave
I sit in stillness a lot now

Watching things move is a prison
Movement happens in pitch darkness
Gratitude that the sun still burns
Locked in, my sight sets me free


In the library water is coming through the ceiling
Shhh! Weight of water is on my mind
It’s quiet enough to think clearly here, for a short time
Before I swim back home through the rain

Home is full of music and distraction from constant hums
The house feels heavy it might cave in
Under piles of rubble and possessions I am still the same
Just now I’m wet through without a roof

I’m Dizzy With Grief

My head spins like black plastic
Songs and tunes play in my mind
Stand up I feel dizzy
Lie down I feel much worse

Like unrooted trees I fall
In the winds of your soft breath
I see double flowers
I smell your long gone scent

I’m under your spell, falling
For your ideas of balanced thought
I weep for time we lost
Tears drop down to the ground

It’s bin day and it’s raining
The songs I wrote are playing
You don’t dance anymore
This steady beat does nothing

Prepare For The Worst (Poet In The World)

Can I relax?
I need something to drink
Taps have run dry
Without water no tea

Smash! Goes my mug
I’m so tired of praise
Feelings can wait
I need a cup of tea

Third times the charm
Biscuit tin empty again
I cannot see
What I’ll eat with my tea

I’ll go shopping
For my elevenses
Must satisfy
My need for snacks and tea

At last an idea
Thank the gods for my flask
Prepared yesterday
At last I drink my tea!

Three 4am haiku

When it all comes down
What’s left in your empty brain
Anything you dream


What are you scared of?
Effects of humanity?
Be an animal


Pour tea bath water
Into your favourite cup
Drink the benefits

Idiosyncratic Imagery (work in progress)

One final drink together under the placid moon
You died in my arms that night next to the still lake
Soon after the carefree clouds gathered below the heavens
Above strands of grass, willow trees and fallen flower petals

Farewell my friend, I will take the advice of many fine poets
And become a lonesome traveller on winter’s everlasting road
I’ll walk up the hills away from my ancestral hometown
Missing the bonds forged when I found you crying in the boudoir

Travelling across seas I feel a meloncholy motion rock me to sleep
This boat sailing north amid the dramatic snowfall
The wild geese flying above send me messages of home
Lost in a bubble in the night sky I awaken from this dream

So then, awake I find you, my friend, alive and well
My joy ploclaimed at length from atop the ancient fortress
Fate builds and abandons me as I reflect above the motionless lake
With you by my side, my love, near the city of spring

My Far Away Saviour

Lower me a hook to save me from the uncertainty
Give me the ultimate happy ending to believe in
Bribe me with charity and sell me your dreams guarantee
Scare me with torture if I don’t follow your rules therein

I’ve got much closer to heaven with each day that passes
But dreams of heaven will be for nought the day that I die
My part will end but life goes on for the countless masses
What are the lies you tell yourself to get to sleep and why?

We have the threats, the hypocrisy, the narcissism
The generational authority passed down with glee
Black and white sins of a greyscale world lest criticism
Violence and bloodshed in Gods name that stains history

So what now can save me? Hope from family or a friend
The virtue of doing my best even if that’s not a lot
Radical acceptance for my existence till the end
Emptying the mind and being grateful for what I’ve got

A Gifted Power: Your Ancient Childlike Wisdom

The look on your face, your raw emotion
The light in your eyes, your divine delight
I miss this the most, the parts you gave me
I would do it all, to see you again

The biggest heart, never ending smile
Pure sparkling joy, I’ll never forget
The calm I felt, when you were around
It’s part of me, mine forevermore

I promise to try my best to pass on your gift like you did to me.

The Girl Is A Fighter

My friend once boxed a kangaroo in the desert!
She got punched in the face but fought strong through the hurt.
A week after the fight she beat a tough black belt.
One so big he could crush a nut with his force dealt.
It was a mighty battle but she had quick speed!
She punched him in the mouth so hard, he had his feed.
Like a weightless ballerina she defeated him.
Used his power against him, she knocked him out dim!
The champion of the world, her heat like the sun,
Shone through the desert, kangaroo, and everyone!

3 Verses For The Day

What is hiding in your face?
Behind the mask of disgrace.
Unlocked by a soul embrace.
Shines out with a smile in place.


Don’t look for everything, on one certain path.
All paths are stitched from fragments of time.
Walk where your feet are now, whatever your path.
Everything‘s always there, all of the time.


Watch, curled up cat sleeps
Not of this world are his dreams
I’ll join him tonight

What are you up to?

What is everyone doing at any given time?
I want to ask the whole wide world what they are thinking,
And how they feel?
It’s not about me.

What do you want from your life and how can I help you?
Can I feel the way you feel and would that share the load?
Put it like this,
It’s not about me.

Do you want some time to yourself and space to relax?
I know you don’t need me but know that I’m here for you.
Feel better soon,
It’s not about me.

Can I share some hope just by listening to you talk?
Hearing you help yourself is sweet music to my ears.
Turn on the light.
It’s not about me.

Does existence realise we’re on a rock in space?
Shared with animals, plants, and lots of little atoms,
Each doing things.
It’s not about me.

The Cost Of Living

Trapped lone solace in captivity
Isolated mind specifically
Locked in, cold, naked, and so, so bored
Wet, shivering, sitting, and ignored

Bankrupt and starving, getting older
Always in pain, a frozen shoulder
Can’t move, everything’s grey, give over
Can’t hear, it’s all too much, moreover

The silence is too loud, a dark shroud
Hanging around, a leaden cloud, proud
Of no one and nothing, my ears ring
The birds don’t sing, my cat’s dead play thing

Lukewarm tea, miles away from the sea
My friends flee, overlooking my plea
Long lost glee, hope gone, I cannot see
I’ve lost thee, hopeless, she set me free


Q. How do I feel consistently content and mentally well?
A. Don’t think sad thoughts.

Q. How do I feel more active and enthusiastic?
A. Do more fun stuff.

Q. How do I lose weight and feel better about the way I look?
A. Eat less food.

Q. How do I put on weight and feel better about the way I look?
A. Eat more food.

Q. How do I make friends and influence people?
A. Don’t be a dick.

Q. How do I save up for a rainy day and make myself more financially secure?
A. Spend less money.

Q. How do I become more attractive to possible romantic partners?
A. Smile.

Q. How do I stop the existential dread that haunts my brain whenever I am alone or in silence?
A. Don’t worry about things.


I live for you, Clem, and tea.
I will not hear of stern words said against the tea.

With crossed spears and bashing on shields!
With whipped fervour and impetuous rage!
With uncontrollable unconscious uninhibited!
With audacious actions of high powered regret!

I will not hear of stern words said against the tea.
For I live for tea, Clem, and thee!

You are loved

I am writing this to you
Even though you feel poo
To let you know
And try to show
You are loved

Soon you will feel better
So read carefully every letter
You might not feel it now
But I promise you somehow
You are loved

Bad times don’t last forever
Hold tight, never say never
Together we can get through
Me, you, and cats too
You are loved

It’s ok to feel bad
Or had, mad, or sad
With hope we can see
A bright future to be
And remember you are loved

Sleep paralysis in wet weather

Laying in bed a forsaken fleeting feeling lingers
A heavy humid dread sitting on my chest
The weight of an extinguished wheeze
Pain from a thousand unwanted thoughts
The tick of a clockwork existential death threat
A days worth of bottled rage bubbling up from my gut

Parallels with processes of wrong uns
An unwanted empathy for the worst of the worst
Alone at night in the dark with nothing but a million voices
Carrying all kinds of criticism and conflicting neurosis
Nothing to calm the nerves but the falling rain
But even the most burdensome troubles can get washed away

My Tekken Career By Kelsey

Fighting is difficult
The system is rigged
The children are vulnerable
They climb a never ending mountain
To grasp at stars always out of reach

Endless paperwork
The trust don’t have faith
The kids are at risk
Set up to fail on their journey
Some destined to fall through the gaps

This fight is more than a video game, it’s life

The Roots of Growth

Living in the soil is a little worm
Breaking up the earth for roots to grip

The sun beats down on all the leaves
The rain helps give the plants life

Growing plants is therapeutic
Sometimes you get nice crisp apples

It is useful to get support to grow
As a plant and as a person

That is why Kelsey is helping me write
To catalogue and process mental growth

I am grateful for all the help I’ve received
To become who I want to be

I am not a worm I feel like a plant in the soil
I just need help sending down my roots

My pet, Death (rewrite this at some point)

Inevitable, he will stop at nothing
Killer of legacies, destroyer of lineage
The gift our mothers gave us will expire
Resistance is futile

He arrives peacefully in your sleep
An end to the experience
A creator of ghostly memories
But what is a memory when there is no one to remember it?

He stalks our every second of existence
Ready to pounce on a moments misfortune
Roots always reach downwards
To keep us fed until is time for terror from above

He is a faithful companion
Agile, like swift retribution
Not always fair
To him it is sport

Those in control amplify his effects
The ever diminishing resources
Fire erupts in his steadfast gaze
Like his heat that will consume us all

The Cats of Bluehill

Can you listen to me meow,
Can you listen to me purr,
I’m a cat
And I’m a cat
And I’m a cat
And I’m a cat

Put fresh food down in my bowl,
Clean the mess up in my tray,
I’m a cat
And I’m a cat
And I’m a cat
A purring cat

I’m a lovely little cat
Can you stroke my silk soft fur
I’m a cat
And I’m a cat
And I’m a cat
And I’m a cat

Let me out into the rain
Soon I will come back again
I’m a cat
And I’m a cat
And I’m a cat
A purring cat

Every Drop Matters

A column of water from the tap
Falls down past the sink bowl into the gap
Glugs in the drain through the trap
And back up again to the gutters wrap

Drop to the sewer a waste of water
Dilutes a foul mix towards the sorter
At the treatment plant works her daughter
Helping recycle like she taught her

Overflow the sewage because it’s raining
Cry do the bosses as investment is waining
Not for lack of profit sustaining
The wealth of the richest always obtaining

Nationalise it so the profits rebuild
The infrastructure and talent so skilled
Repair it where damage got spilled
And improve it all as payments fulfilled

Easy Writing

Talking to you, is nice, and calms me down, and fills me up, so I empty. Like the noise of recycle bin or trash or bin emptying, I give myself notice of little changes. My dopamine boost of the day could be a visual cue: Rapid batting eyelids, or the colour of the tea being poured from my teapot; just something to make me feel like everything is alright, even if it isn’t. That feeling that it is, is important. I know it’s temporary. Things will change. But I like to give myself a moments peace when I can. That’s important to me. I have learned to live better by going through pain. I can adjust. However much I tell myself I can’t when I’m stressed. I can. It’s easy if I talk to you.

The Squirl (US Version)

I watched a squirrel try and cross the road before I got too close. It got all the way across the road but then it turned around and crossed back across the road as I approached. You were almost there my guy. You had this. You were so close.

Fixing a 12 Year Old Laptop Is Therapeutic

Fixing a 12 year old laptop is therapeutic
I hope the octogenarian owner will enjoy using Linux
A new lease of life for a dying machine
And for it’s owner’s technological twilight

I like shapes
Circle circle circle circle circle
Oblong oblong oblong oblong
Triangle triangle triangle
Octohedron octohedron
Wiggly bezier polygon


The Sink The Sink The Sink The Sink The Sink

Clear water flows down my sink
if it’s not blocked
or the bowl’s in

Patterned dishes pile up on the side
if I’ve tidied up
or I am lazy

Chrome tap drips very slightly all day
if the hosepipe adapter
or other is on

Silent clock doesn’t tick in this house
if I’m staying here
or I go crazy

The air feels clear today
Mackerel skies patterned
Chrome feels laggy
My laptop is silent

Tick tock goes the clock
In my parent’s house
Or in at my Grandparent’s
I am suffering here

A slow walk down the lane.
One foot in front of the other.
A steady plod to escape your mind.
See less, hear less, think less.
Let yourself disappear.

The Long Awaited Visitor

It was summer when we first met and she asked me. “Where do you go for fun in this town?”

I shrugged and answered. “Home.”

She made me feel like a teenager. Excited; all new and powerful. An antidote to routine and familiar comforts. A sharer of her energy and overflowing spirit; she could see around corners. She was open and honest; endlessly forgiving. She was feeling everything, for everyone, all of the time.

But I couldn’t cope. My brain would explode if I attempted to play along. Long ago; burnt out and severely melted. I don’t want to go. Unless it’s staying here or alone out to the moors.

I left that night through the window. Yes, I could use the door, but it didn’t feel as exciting. As I got outside I smelled the petrichor and damp pollen. A freshness hard to find in my house. I knew instantly things could change. It was dark and all the people were asleep. I made my way through the woods just me and a torch, disturbing a twig with a clumsy step, hearing surprised pigeons take off, breaking the silence of the night.

Two hours of walking later I arrived. Surrounded by heather, by the chirruping of the ground nesting birds, by the rare concerned bolve of a stag, and by the burgeoning light from the spectacular sunrise. This location gave everything to me and I took nothing. A pure feeling of lack of people, lack of judgment, a lack of anger. Nothing in the best possible sense, here it meant the endless space between me and the stars, the emptiness between me and my surroundings. Full of potential. Maybe the universe could be my place. A place I could feel like myself. A place where I belonged. A place I felt closest to her. I shed a tear for her love and all of existence.

I had come home.

Tool Assisted Poetry – The day ChatGPT tried to write for me

In a tapestry of vibrant diversity, we find,
Bound by shared humanity, hearts aligned.
Together we stand, breaking barriers confined,
Embracing differences, unity enshrined.

In a symphony of colours, we unite,
Honouring uniqueness, with radiance bright.
For every voice resonates, shining light,
In this grand mosaic, love takes flight.

Let prejudice crumble, injustice fades away,
As empathy and compassion hold sway.
For in our shared journey, we strive each day,
A world where acceptance has the final say.

No divisions shall hinder our united stride,
But solidarity and respect, side by side.
With open hearts, bridges we build wide,
Harbouring the worth of each life’s pride.

Let kindness be the language we employ,
A force that transcends, bringing lasting joy.
With every heartbeat, harmonise we shall enjoy,
A world where equality we all employ.

In this ode to togetherness, we convey,
The strength of bonds that guide our way.
With unwavering spirit, let’s ignite,
A future where inclusivity shines bright.


Your voice made me collapse
Into your arms, into your heart
Your words brought me to the end
Of all my hatred and all my cruelty

One day you’ll walk through my door
One day we’ll suffer no more

On some level, in some way, we can make that day today
With hope we can take all of our unhappiness away

Your unhinged laughter made me doubt
All the false certainties holding me back
Your survivors spirit made me sad
That I had not met you earlier

One day I’ll stop striving to be
One day we’ll be you and me

On some level, in some way, we can make that day today
With hope and pride we can take all of our unhappiness away


Rhymes fucking suck
They just make it cheesy
But once I had luck
And they particularly pleased me

No End In View

My boat on your shoreline
Called in for a while
Wavering emotions
A glimpse of your smile

Oil stains the water
Rainbows in the air
Hearts won’t stop beating
Whenever you are there

Growing attachment
With soil and sun
I look below
To the rain undone

Time will have a say
And salt and the sea
But nothing bad remains
Between you and me

The clock ticks are metered
Afloat by the coast
Met up in secret
I love you the most

Trees drowning in tar
Caught in a trap
You’re clinging to roots
Nurture your chap

You personify water
I’m buoyant around you
Soon countdown to zero
With no end in view

Hey! Look in the mirror, boy wizard

Hey! What’s going on?
Sometimes I walk and think
What is that bird doing
So I watch in the rain

Sometimes it’s mouth is full
Not of food
But moss and vegetation
Lining for a nest

Where’s it going?
Bobbing up and down
As it flies along
As light as a feather

So where’s it’s mate?
I look around
There’s a lizard
What if it’s mate is a lizard?

What if I were a lizard?
Everyone could be replaced
By a lizard
If we are lucky

There’s a lizard
Inside us all
What is the universe?
It’s a lizard

My home is not a rock
But is a lizard’s scale
Darting across the moor
On lightning legs

I’m hungry and tired
I’d talk to my friend
But she’s a lizard
And cannot speak

Under the weather
I have a cold
The bird is gone
So has the moss

So what is left?
Hope and relativity
Simple truths
And a lizard

Ice Cap Suicide

April showers and unseasonal snow have turned last autumn’s leaves to stems and mud.
Droplets in my beard and the spray of salt whet my appetite for a seaside treat.
Black sand under my nails is like a manifestation of yesterday’s social media chatter.
Irritating like the effect the bobbing of the boats on the violent spring tide.

The door bangs from a through draft.
The sound of drums for my next song.
A woosh of smoke comes from an open window
Leaving an aroma I can’t describe.

The breakwater serves its purpose but one day will be breached.
The gas bubbling up from a leak of international importance.
The sand turns to glass in the heat.
The glass melts like the ice that I didn’t ask for in my drink.

I feel cold and it is getting dark.
Less hair under my cap each day
No consequences for me but we will all face what is coming.
More rain and a swell wall of water washing away our past and all of our misdemeanours.

Not cleansed but destroyed.
A hollow shell of our former selves.
I pick up a stone from the beach to keep
But that thievery will kill the hardy trees that line the cliff here.

I feel empty at night.
For all the soft power
Only the brittle and broken remain.
Gone are my dreams tonight.

Gone are my dreams tomorrow.

Your Regular Support

The broken pieces of my life held together by plenty of red tape.
The pale sudden flicker of wholesome humanity against the glorious majesty of the universe.
Everything’s going on.
But you are the focus of my crimson dreams.

The finite resources depleted and the planet’s impending destruction.
The freedoms we have abused. The disrespect shown. We might be too far gone to stop now.
Nothing else matters.
Except you and me and our scarlet vision.

The regulations we set are there for a reason.
The forces at work in universe are too big to understand. The powers on Earth too finite to avoid control. Life in the red.
People fallen to corruption.
Is human organisation destined to fail?

Not when there is hope and love. Repeated and underlined. Repeated and unlined. So grateful for your regular support.

A Girl I Look Up To

In a haze considering every thought and feeling she ever had.
Loving me more than a helpless pet on the street.
Appreciating the highest but lifting the lowest of art.
Queen of the clouds, even her sarcastic scowl envelops the sky.

Quietly spoken she said to me that only the fierce survive.
She smelled like a familiar indescribable aroma.
Standing next to me she looked like a million rainbow sighs.
Her touch felt like a teardrop on my lips.

The softest fluffy grey cardigan hung on her shoulders.
Dressed to kill all the badness in the neighbourhood.
She’s tired but gives life to the trees and grass and the moss.
She’s the rain and these days she’s crying all the time.

Goodbye To Myself This Winter

I miss your old face. (Lizard) Distorted and vague.

Check on me on your way down.
Together again for a moment; I frown.
Your life sounds cold. You moved out of town.

Ages since you left. (Wizard) Shaken and torn.

You went missing once and vowed never again.
Frozen in torment; a familiar refrain.
A broken promise. A broken brain.

I’ve seen my share. (Blizzard) Lost and found.

That icy night we put the town to right.
Built a new vent; shone a new light.
We put away the past. I buried you tonight.

What Faith is to me

Faith is about experiencing a force or power external to me. What defines faith, for me, is never knowing what this power is.

This power does not provide meaning, nor does it provide understanding, but it is there, always pulling. Undefinable, any effort to give it a name or characteristics is to stray from it’s awesomeness.

I feel it most when I am somewhere remote, just me and the elements, feeling small amongst the wider environment. Being still in all things helps it appear, a true reflection of existence, of what is beyond consciousness.

It is what is left in the absence of things. Yet it gives life to everything. With no knowable intent or prophecy, it can reach all, giving them a glimmer of the peace behind all the shit that has come after it. Changes are happening all around you. Along with uncertainty and death, change is certain. It is are one of the few certainties.

It reminds me to do good for those around me and the places I inhabit. It teaches sometimes things just happen because they happen and that we are the ones providing extra context or meaning. Detached from involvement in our awareness, we can choose to be the observer when it suits us, when it feels good. It reminds me I am part of something bigger which is at the same time something small. That I must separate my thoughts and actions from the wider environment and make them improve that environment sustainably and without much effort.

It is the small things that make the world big. A friendly gesture or an open heart. Being honest and real can make your heart grow bigger than the world. Always listen because you never know when you might hear something beautiful. To be awake is to be aware and to be aware is to feel the faith.

So whether you believe this or not. Regardless of whether you find this unrealistic or too idyllic. I have one request… Please take care on your journey through life, take care of yourself, take care of your surroundings, take care of others. Be open and real and honest, with love and hope and empathy, we can feel together even when we are alone.

That is partly how I apply my meaning to the things I experience. How do you do?

The Viola Player’s Funeral

He’s cold in this hollow box
It’s warm on the outside he begs
She’s the only blanket he wants
Followed by a bow to play at courting

Summer has gone away for a while
He feels a key change of the weather
She’s unlocking her viola case and
Reading a mournful note from her lover

Harmonies sing when he’s around
Her heart grows big, her hair on end
The vibrations of love flow up her spine
Through cords of silken electricity

They used to relax into each other’s arms
When time proved to be an illusion
A song that is always there
Kept safe in the instrument of her desire

My Good Friend

Sat to one side
You cling to your negativity
Anything good is a ride
A catastrophe for any opportunity

Carrying baggage
You sing without purity
But still you manage
To survive and cope with adversity

No one can hear you
Signalling so quietly
Righteous fury flows through
Your every action and quality

So one day stop
And listen to nothing
No more luggage to cop
Find some peace in your own belonging

The Power Of Peacetime

Can we give a moment now to those who died
Called cowards in their own country.
More brave than me
These martyrs for peace
In a world bent on destruction.

Shot by their own for believing alone
When war could stop with one word from a despot.
Now we’re standing eye to eye in our enemy’s land
It’s a long way to go for salvation.

It seems folly to me that just one man’s deeds
Decides the fate of a nation
But it’s unlucky for them
We’ve got peace on our hem
And will protest war on every occasion.

Belief in ourselves and those in the hell
Of conflicts far and wide
To just stop for now would feel good.
Let’s get round the table and eat while we’re able

And we’ll look within for the power of peacetime.

Our Inadequate Hands

My mother taught me to speak.
My father taught my tone.
Lessons learned are easily forgotten
without an environment in which to thrive.

The hourglass trees recycle the atmosphere.
Sending their roots down as anchors.
A reminder to balance when stationary.
Moving is an effort not to be taken for granted.

A struggle in my mind can be repetitive.
The same thoughts dripping out of my mind.
Like some sort of water torture
Or buzzing and ringing at an uncomfortable pitch.

We are responsible for each other.
For the animals and plants.
The seas and the skies.
Suffering, at our inadequate hands.

A bit of nonsense

Holding neon leopard antlers you zipline across the valley. A calm sky and high cloud watch with the sound of a buzzing aircraft above. A conduit lemon wire around my wrist assesses my conduct. Dark holes in the ground. Holes all around out of which the sound of rain caresses your ears. With the heavy weave of my jute trousers chafing my legs. And the large ostrich egg organ keys in my mind. And the seven godly wounds in the sky. The shining, the bright convex reflection, a grim frown of a bleeding mouth, and an obstacle course designed for a much more fit version of myself. A friend with good hair with a bouncing rubber mallet attack the wooden dowels into their rain filled orifices. A gloomy look from a dice that rolled two. A tall towering tree housing piano keys unlock a sordid door in the ground. A cold fox shivering. A poor construction of a model robot by an amateur hand. Several eyes surprised on the trunk of the tree as the robot walks. The aircraft falls from the sky narrowly missing the mouth below my floating corpse. Awareness returns. Reanimated we see a golden glow enveloping the hills. And the covers of your bed provide sanctuary for you and the fox. A point of light and newly summoned silence. Hovering above the holes the fliers fly and my mind loses it’s goblin teeth keyboard. Discordant jazz threatens my friends. Disordered thoughts and a carrion crow sing to them. A wall of sound. The zipline’s searing string snaps and falls. As the holes open up. And the tree is felled. And all the lights fade to black. Too many songs madden the mind as she she thinks a new world into life. A easel and a brush. Just water and earth to use as paint. The fox goes swimming in search of fish. The endless becomes a finish line split into two. One for me and one for you. A spirit seeking shelter occupies your desire. A vacant messenger agog from seeing too much. As twelve pigeons land out of the night sky each carried a rough piece of bark. New lights appear as the air splits in two. The bed crumbles and we both wake up. A sun is born in the sky as the day starts anew. And frequencies of energy connect us with the great fissure. Two wildcats chase the pigeons and then flee our gaze. The robot beeps and flickers white hot sparks. Keeping the earth a glow. With seasons coming and going. And all around us in the know. There’s nothing to know here. Where all the dark contains light and all brightness is blunted. A greyscale jelly. A jelly and a tube. Including apparatus for detection. I cannot fathom aeons of authority, a whole lot of passed down belief, manifest as excuses not to ask questions. Sat here the world collapses and sings a last goodbye. Water in a cup ripples at the end. Seventy percent of the sky burns away. Leaving us stuck in a weak atmosphere. A lunge towards the switches out of reach. Cliffs cave in. The seas engulf the land. The sickness spreads. Dissipating a decay from the godly synth in the ever diminishing sky. We renew our pacts and promises amongst this chaos. Compartmentalising and comparing without meaning to. As we go to books on the shelf we start a resistance to lonely ignorance and isolating power. A colossal store of information connects everything until we animals seek retreat. Earthly paintings drip down our skin. Markings of meaning. The mouth begins to talk. As we sit around feeding each other and settle down for the continuation of our stagnant journey on the wet rock we call home amongst the stars and the huge planet sized aliens that outnumber us all quietly and secretly enjoying themselves in the abyss.


An overdue lesson my birthday came like a chocolate torte

My family my classmates demanding no time for any thought

Get the food ready said the dinnerlady to my tired self

So focused on this schoolwork I had no time for my mental health

Mid life crisis at break time but I’d forgot my packed lunch

Celebrating another year with three generations an unruly bunch

Take me back in time and I’d drop out all over again

Exams like a shootout but when it’s my turn I miss my pen

Typing notes on my phone I’ve forgotten how to write

It’ll take me 35 years to remember but one day I just might

My Teeth

As the world had closed up I stared into my mouth, mirrored forth.
I saw the world opening amongst broken, yellow pearls.
Paths revealed themselves in front of me, some south, some north.
Unfamiliar and not a crossroads, as such, my hazy vision swirled.

The glass holding my toothbrush smashed on the floor.
A reverberation of the crash seemed to last forever.
I looked down. Red blood at my feet. A hole opened up to the door.
Once imprisoned. Now an escape route of falling and landing never.

Is this flight? Surely not fight. More likely fright.
I felt trapped, caught, constrained in this emotional hell.
Beyond repair, hoping for a fix, another episode at the dentist might.
I used a brush to sweep up the shards. In guilt, shame and fear I dwell.


Over read and over thought; chewed up and thrown out.
Told to a friend but in it goes in one ear and out the other.
“If only you knew him like I know him.” They’d say.
Not possible when it’s just one story for them but an encyclopaedia for you.

Plain metal life

Scratched and worn,
I wear a coat of guilt.
It hides my shame.

Pride wilts in greyscale norms,
Society’s potential colour wilts.
No reason not to choose your own names.

The pandemic’s shine is becoming worn.
The party engine will be at full tilt.
Dancing alone; no longer my forced aim.

Holding Time’s Hand

You couldn’t sleep,
I wouldn’t think.
All our fears were here,
We had started to sink.

You were so uncomfortable
A mouthful of cotton to mend.
No moment felt finished,
Gravely gathered at the end.

We held Time’s hand,
We held onto each other.

As we sat this one out
In the safety cupboard together.
A stopwatch and a timer
Couldn’t stop it either.

Sound to distraction,
Calls to the ether,
Rising tides so far away
No blip on our meter.

We held Time’s hand
We held onto each other.

Snooker Qualification

And all the luck in the world wouldn’t find you here

All the same things happen every year, I hear

Changes come and go but you are always the same

Ideals fluid enough to know who win this frame

A double kiss then pulled off early before the next sesh

I couldn’t look at you but I still knew you were a mess

The tension mounted all around

Out of position I couldn’t bear it when you frowned

I love you.

Is that what I should say?

I don’t know what will come of it

But I’ll say it anyway

World Poetry Day 2021

Alpha had small touch of my cardigan.
A nice way of saying hello with warmth.

She was happy to see me that day.
Walking through halls of an old school.
A beta test for future studies with some of my favourite people.

My anxiety was high that day.
Like gamma rays flying straight through me.
A panic on some stairs.
Overwhelmed with the attention.

Her model’s features were hidden by her smile.
It was as a wide as a delta.
Her hair was thin.
Her heart was not.
Her blood flowing through me so fast.

Ecstatic empathy explodes and exudes; entering everything.

If the quality of our differences outweighs the quantity of them we can make a good team.

Since watching the world together we can see the same scenes from our different views.

The set will be constructed by us for us. Outward looking at the illusions we perceive within.

Two is greater than one over time. Encounters may come and go. Together with time on our side. We build foundations.

The only enemy we have is selfishness.

I like to read books slowly. Digesting what I’ve seen. Yours is a book with no end which I can never put down.

Never Forgotten

How are we so different
but essentially the same?

How do I care so much
when I have nothing to gain?

Why did I stay when you
gave me that pain?

Because you showed me hope in a way
where it never can wain.

You are a star that will never supernova.

All I want is your suffering to be over.

We can heal each other and show the world what’s good.

And value ourselves and stay alive like people should.

Vast universe. Not afraid.

Hard feelings. Gently expose.

Soft inside. Be kind.

Love you. Always.


Close your eyes. Where are you now? Open your eyes. You’re somewhere else. If you ever need to refresh; just blink.

A tired voice sounds sexy to some ears. It’s ok to be worn out. If you are not feeling sexy time tonight, eat something, get some rest.

A goblin could devour every nerve on your skin and you’ll live inside your isolation tank brain forever. Enjoy the fleeting because it’s not sticking around. Remember that when you’re in the depths of the bog.

Quieten your sense of subjective self. A part that feels like a whole is still a part. And when that black hole inside makes itself known then tell it to swallow the bits you don’t like.

Feed others and your brain will be fed. Keep people happy. Provide food, shelter, and an open heart.

Happy Birthday

Today is a break in the cloud of yesterday’s depression and tomorrow’s anxiety.

A point of light, almost piercing in its clarity, highlights the gift of the present.

Do not fear this focus; this freedom: It is a vacuum playground for you to fill or observe.

As patterns are set here they can easily be unravelled. In this moment knit together your life as you see fit.

Past loss and future gain are dreams kept either side of your real life. A plain cup that sits between decorated spectres.

These ghosts of prize and pain in years from now and times gone by are with you now only because you have been given the present.

The skill you were born with was to just do things without intention. Use this and yesterday’s depression and tomorrow’s anxiety will disappear.

Fork Valley Allotment

Beans climbing up the bamboo canes
Wigwams reaching for the light
We could grow if we didn’t know your name
Steady and solid like a tortoise preserving it’s might

Houses lined up in the streets
Each their own universe
Food tonight provides a treat
My own recipe for these leftovers it could be worse

Hiding away with my favourite sounds
Nothing much could be better than this bass
I found nothing and nothing I have found
These moments are the greatest gift – they’re ace

A colossal foundation for an ideal life
From the ashes of branded waste
Self sufficiency and recycled joy frees our strife
Our wants illusions frequenting at haste

Slowed water but not still
The ashes can settle
The feeling of will
Thoughts wrought by metal
The ground we cannot refill
Our wares smash – so brittle
Trees we kill
Burn for our kettle


Tea revives our energy unspent
Groups of believers tell us to repent
Guilty of the same crimes if not more
Do we have to tell them the score?

Time is on our side

the lockdown party

announcement. we are having a party at 8pm to join you must lie on the floor of a cold dark room alone and listen to erik satie gnossienne no 1 on repeat for twenty minutes. there is a strict policy of no alcohol only lukewarm salt water. dress code is dark. pets are mandatory

Middle Ear Infection

Being deaf on one side doesn’t quieten the dialogue in my head.

I must do this but I can’t. Why? I don’t know I can’t do it. I don’t want to anyway. Although, I really need to. I need to so I want to. That’s how I work. Except, I don’t work do I?

It’s annoying because I can only hear half the music. Half the euphoria. All the disquiet.