Tuesday, 12 January 2010

Hot Blood

A bluebottle flies around our bedroom,

even though it’s winter outside – sub zero

and central heating turns and soon clicks off

tonight; you wouldn’t want to be that creature

buzzing in a slowly freezing world

now, would you, when there’s no help to offer?

Tomorrow we’ll arise unlike our insect-friend,

unfeeling sheets and duvet, balmy blood;

that’s the difference – inner warmth

we share with others, keeping humans soft,

un-insect like:

and hot.


  1. Indeed. Us humans are a distinguished life-form, and I share your deep reverence and respect for the humanity of our species. But, there are people in this world who, in my opinion, are as dead and cold inside as that blue bottled fly would have been the next morning.

    An enjoyable and inspiring poem. Thanks.

    @salaamfreeland (twitter)

  2. Yes thanks - that's a good distinction - I was hinting at it!!! J