To be a poet
Is not to burn the paper with your words
but to be heard
when drifting smoke of love and life is gone
the poet in us carries on
when ink and page and pen are embers
it is the beauty one remembers

Furrow face, deep ruts
savage cuts that only time and years can plough
fertile grain
once waving yellow in your fields
does not remain
chaff blown brittle on the winter wind
will settle now and then on barren land
sadly turned to sand

I don't want to come back
once I leave don't revive me
I'm finished and done with being alive me
you just know when it's your time go
so take off the wire
my choice to decide where & when I expire

Scarlet cinnabar
wanton reds and ***** you pinks
Vermilion is a libertine
a go it alone chancer
who lives free and to hell with the consequence
condemn him if you will
for he is already ******
The devil has his own team colours

Tend to the soul of me
that means the whole of me
feed my mind my heart my head
nourish the part that doesn’t need bread
water me with love, watch me grow
a person will flower before you know

Pansexual
love the person not their gender
surrender to love in huge amounts
because that’s what counts

Petrified people
are often alone
they build themselves a heart of stone
it stops the hurt getting in
and the love getting out

A wolf has come to eat the sun
the Gods supplied us only one
with jaws that tear and teeth that bite
he stops to drink our fading light
eclipse the world, pour out the soul
you nibble, can't you eat it whole?

Bottled words boiled down
Haiku pan bubbles over
Leaving the meaning

Faded sunset clouds
Waiting moon and infant stars
A subtle blending

Wine of forgiveness
Needs some time to sit and breathe
Before you drink it!

Sleepy blue ocean
Hiding in a cowrie shell
I heard her snoring

The ghosts of old loves
Live again in memory
Casting deep shadows

Freedom
a gift that is seldom free
freedom to say I just want to be me
freedom of thought
freedom of expression
freedom from any kind of oppression
freedom to say you can all go to hell
because blood puts the polish on the liberty bell!

I will walk barefoot and bow my head
along the winding path that leads me through the trees
to where the nightingale sings
her notes so pure and so beautiful
that you have to follow
yes I will walk barefoot
leaving as I came in
crossing the boundary
that leaning picket fence
which marks the end of all journeys
to what lies beyond
leaving only my footprints
and the echo of a bird

My name is Martha and I'm very tired
my patience as such has long expired
so you don't want my brown skin next to your white
well madam I'm tired so I'm sitting tight
it's hot and I waited my turn in the queue
and I paid, just like him, just like her, just like you
you can carp, you can moan, you can cause all kinds of fuss
but lady I'm keeping my seat on this bus
because I'm tired

I need no sword
for I can pierce your armour with my tongue
wit and clever words can bring you sobbing to your knees
they have bite, feel their sting
oh yes, and they will cut you down in a heartbeat
to shred and tear at your pomposity
I need no sword

Walk a mile
with the wind on your face
between the land and the sky
the sand and the water
tread the lonely margins
the frayed cuffs
where worlds meet and end
listen to the cries of wading birds
and wet your tired feet
let the waves heal you
and wash against your senses
this beach is yours
if only in your head

When I am gone
think of me often
for I will be a butterfly free soul
a forever spirit of the air and wind
dancing among the flowers
in endless summer

My alarm this morning
came by virtue of the birds
who long before the sun had set the sky alight
had shed the quiet wings of night
and very early came to sing
with news of what the day would bring

Mysterious night
Soft and heavy with promise
A velvet hammer!

Happy is a department store
something to look at on every floor
if we know what we are shopping for
but generally we don't, do we?

I won’t cry
well not for too long
perhaps just now and again a tear will fall
you worked hard all of your life
now the work is done
you can rest up a bit
although you will fit it hard to sit still
you always did
perhaps you are a butterfly or a bee
busily checking on your garden
I think you would like that
happy among the flowers
you have not gone from our hearts
whenever I see a garden in full bloom
I will smile
and you will be with me

Twilight is a spark
Saturday's penny candle
Lights Sunday's fire

Cool in the shadows
Tired day rests beneath the trees
Larks give way to owls

Paintbox colours make our world
grey and clinging fog of disbelief
echoed by the indigo of grief
bitter orange wheat of rage
before we finally turn the page
accept the solid yellow ochre of finality
and begin to paint ourselves a new reality

Under darkened skies
Hope is our new horizon
Always up ahead

Midnight is a blade
cutting the cord between tomorrows
Midwife to the newborn day

Ants on a dry leaf
conquerers and pioneers
sailing the puddle

Long empty spaces
fill with echoes of time passed
deafening silence

A fallen idol
is a wounded bird which sings
and tries to fly on paper wings

Frog on a lilly
white flower fragrant and sweet
happy hoppy frog

Wallop, then you hit me with a ten foot pole
love is supposed to be a gentle beautiful thing
not a sock to the jaw or a knuckle sandwich
what did you do to my heart you ******
kicked it into the gutter that's what
then you jumped up and down
and ran me over like a number nine bus
driven by a maniac
ok I give up
hands in the air and waving a white flag
I love you!

Mayfly
all snowy white wings
delicate fragile things
that dance and skim the summer air
hardly there
a second of modernity
to experience eternity
what if a penultimate day in May
to play and love & live
was all you had to give?

Lament the tall sweet meadow grass
where wind no longer blows
lament the lark that’s taken wing
and left us only crows
but you and I endure my love
through rain and wind and sun
for only time can part the ways
when two hearts beat as one

I will wear blue
a subtle gentle hue
but only on the outside
my what I show without side
the blue inside
on my underneath my skin side
is a much darker shade
that will not entirely fade
it's the indigo of empty
call it pain
for the things I have lost
that I thought would remain

A world that is stilled
sparkling water without fizz
trapped in the bottle

The sands of time
crunchy little bits of eternity
will one day grind to dust and scatter in the wind
everything ends, and begins and ends again
a sense of everlasting instability
is the only stable thing we have

A creepy entertainment
made out of melted goo
never trust a waxwork
just who is watching who!

A brainwash seems a good idea
give it a scrub and hang to dry in the breeze
summer fresh and cleaned of ******
let the wind refresh your mind
while you find a comfy chair
to sit and wait for it to air

A fjord of tears
waters land that now lies fallow
because of the land mines
beneath the soil and the waving flowers
that no-one dares to pick
beyond the wire
where a boot is slowly bleaching
that is the true meaning of a warcry!

A thousand scarlet kisses
leaves that fell between our lips
each one sweeter than the last
and longer and deeper
I would swap them all
each plump hanging cherry
just out of reach
to bring you home again

He has drawn me incomplete
one leg and sausage fingers
then he got bored and wandered off to play
I am a stick man
hopping
with only one stick

Bring me the dusty flour of long hot days
mixed in a saucepan with too little rain
I will bake it in my oven of scorched dry earth
and bring you lightning biscuits
to have with your thunder tea

I will never understand
exactly when did a finger on the hand of time uncurl
and wave me on from being a girl

If you long for a life of
sunny skies day after day
you will be disappointed
nothing grows in a desert
settle for a little rain now and then
and someone to share your umbrella

I have a face in the mirror
I know I am there
because I checked
so why do I cut myself
to feel less invisible

In the bungalow of your thoughts
you can sit and fume at the world
while you wrap your soul
in angry net curtains!