Saturday, 11 September 2010


Feeling thirsty, I
decide to build a dam
today – because I hear
flowing water nearby,
slurping. It’s hot and hard
building up a wall,
brick on ancient brick

until I stand, gaze
at my new dam – my own
creation, standing
thick and strong,
old and new and long,
doing what it ought to
- keeping out the water.

Friday, 10 September 2010


Hugs escape a heartache left unsaid
because we twitter-on with tongue and mind
and stop a real ability to bless

but, when knees crumble, earth is there
and eyes can glitter – words – astride the wind
rattle into heart and mind along a twisting ear.

Wednesday, 8 September 2010


Incredibly enough
om mani padme hung
(famous Buddhist mantra)
only settles chaos

of loudly running, waving infants
on a shuddering train
North from Birmingham
for a flashing moment

and, though I have a seat;
settled, fully fed,
the many waving trees outside
travel backwards as if I’m stopped,

as if I know what’s happening
and, flirting with
om mani padme hung,
incredibly enough, I don’t.

Tuesday, 7 September 2010


My son looks about heads in
a late night restaurant, sighs, knowing
he has to do it for us all again;

puts on a 3 cornered hat,
comes to his feet, extends both arms
and shouts in his loudest voice

‘Aaaaaaaargh! I be Jack Sparrow!’
so a wave of laughter rolls on breath,
like wind on the sea, on the sea,

like wind on the languid sea.

Monday, 6 September 2010

Autistic business

A friend of mine is a pencil
who stands in line at my word;
all my colours are willing
to join him because he’s hard.

This pencil’s friend is a crayon
who loiters near, wants to play,
and grabs, includes, a clicking pen
trying to roll away.

I call my pencils ‘colours’;
welcome them into the game;
my favourite gang is Blues, Blues,
all the same, the same.