Other Poems


A ditty

My expression is through words arranged
According to the senses
A jumble of emotions
Untangled and relentless.
My mind is soothed when on the page
A poem gives release
When God has been, wiped my slate clean
And love fills me with peace.

June 09


I scream and my face goes red like a strawberry

I scream and my temper turns hotter than chocolate

I scream and I look as fierce as a gorilla

I melt when I eat vanilla ice cream


Simply Life As It Should Be









Unconditional love


                                           Summer time 1997

BLUSH  (Diary of a woman who flushes with blushes)

Spontaneously combust when I blush.
My English rose colour magnified by your insensitivity.
Frigidness of adolescence.
Vulnerability of young ladyship.
Hormonal motherhood.
Stumbling around forever blushing.

Palest, sweetest, most perfect pink fluid
Warming my veins.
Heart race, soft pulse.

Enter impostor
Magnifying my flush.
A thermal rise
Rage red, burning, pelting, pumping pressure
Desperately expanding my arteries,
Thumping and screeching
Hounding my veins.
Hysterical overflow.
Volcanic response.


I die a thousand times and are reborn a thousand times more.


The Glass House

A beautiful glass house effortlessly presented
With its complex simplicity
So perfectly minimal.
A contradiction in texture
From soft granular sand
To a refined strength so desperately fragile.
Like happiness 
So exhibitly significant.

I see into The Glass House
So apparently transparent
But through the transparency
My vision is refracted
Your reflection is only my reflection.
I don’t reach out quite far enough
And my reflection doesn’t quite reach back to me.
I try and touch you but you are not there
Just a fragile glass house
Protecting a beautiful prism.



No time to write
No time to think
No time on my hands
No watch on my wrist
No clock
No tick
No tock
And yet…..
Millennium will come and pass
As Father Time with looking glass
Will smile…..
The dial will tell of miles covered
Styles hurdled
Files filled
Of time passed through the looking glass
Through time
Down the line
Clocks chime

And then time goes on alone
No time to start again
So… make time your friend.


Silent Vibes

Hollow observer
A study of who, what and why
Sure but unaggressive,
Stimulating in silence
Being the picture without trying
Naturally filling the original mould
Stimulating in onlookers minds
Eyes weighing, wondering
Flirting without eye conscious contact
Knowing they’re watching
Relying on that extra sense
Out of bounds, not important
Vibes are not bound to the gender
It isn’t caged into boundaries
It escapes into the everywhere


Kaleidoscopic Dreams

Precious diamonds of life.
Teardrops of the most crystal clear water
Evaporating in winter sun
Whilst waiting to experience the never.
Distracted and captured by inspirations new.
Forgetting anything which we had waited for
And never came.
Kaleidoscopic dreams.
Enticing me to reach out and feel.
Always capturing and bewitching and enchanting
And ever-changing.
Like rainbow crystals of light playing on diamonds.

Dec 1996

The Journey of the Crow

I lay out my bread in the hope that you won’t return to your carcass instincts.
I understand not your scrawny calling, only the chilling of your silence.
In twos and threes you show your darkest power,
Ruling your territory in possessive flight.
Your black garb haunting the emptiness of space.
Assembling from nowhere in groups of fifty
Your overwhelming squawking closes in on your victim’s ears.
Ordering.  Terrorising them in frenzies down from the trees where they belong
Gang warfare of the skies.
I can not imagine what is worse,
Crow of night camouflaged or crow of day possessing.
In solace poised high on your watch tower, your cold stillness surveys.
Your burning eyes mutate beady black and prosecuting.
You do not lie, you do not pretend, you are just how we perceive you
As black as your body, as dark as your eyes
As solitary and as manifest as we know you.
You are a doorway to the other side, visible in all your faces, like a messenger of fate.
To Halloween you belong.  The ultimate raucous familiar.
In flight you are as sinister as rats with wings,
Frayed tattered wings tipped upwards, like fingers in desperation clawing
Your bigger than kitten body rests in maniacal flapping
Like the ovation clapping of a master play.
Still and precise in movement, slow and direct in journey
Tripping us in your patience, waiting for us to fall, wicked why you wait.
I lay out my bread in the hope that you won’t return to your carcass instincts.
In denial you are the epitome of beauty, defined, deep, and sultry
Out of denial you are only true to yourself
Sinister and beautiful evermore.


The land of Oz

The most prettiest and most rugged creature
Ever have I kissed.

A world of sincerity
Abundance of love.

"If only all the world were as hedonistic”
As the land of Oz.  I love you…


The Vagrant

A bitter empty night
Waiting for winter to determine the vagrant’s fate.
Eternal dampness of the gutter kings life
On silent streets a part is played
And passers by look on dismayed.
And in the distance we hear a bard
Singing to the stench of urine
Playing on a poor mans harp
The nonchalant notes of the vagrant’s heart.
Chestnuts smoking in the wind
Their smell grounds in thought of olde London
Foggy cobbled streets glittering with rain
Cart horse hoofs echoing around alley walls
Silhouettes lingering in the damp lamplight.
Tender feel the moon spun shadows
Quavering in the brink of night
Dusk has done, dawn will come
A still vast nothingness all around
A bitter empty night
Waiting for winter to determine the vagrant’s fate.


The disguise

A disguise is a schitzophrenic
It can either be elusive
Or it can be an informal barricade
For true emotions
Either way a disguise has to be accepted
And if not accepted
How do we recognize a disguise?


Life at Bardys

Through bricks so thick and wooden doors
And walls of which lay more then four
Through carpet soft of which we roam
Please may God bless our home sweet home

Crazy paving on the wall
Slippers under wooden stool
Patch work rugs with shades of deep
Pillows lie on floor and seat

Caressing warmth and air so fine
Rocking birds they sweetly chime
Steel and copper, wood and stone
A glowing red makes cosy home

Ashes bedded on cold ground
Heating all till safe and sound
Glowing warmly, floating free
Invisible flames fly hauntingly

Papers scattered round the room
Straw sweeps wildly from a broom
Baskets hanging round the beams
Flowers lacing in their seems

Sleepy eyes so desperately
Stay awake to vaguely see
A welcome cottage in the quiet
With love and warmth, we say goodnight

And then there was nothing.