Morning Mist

Morning mist.

Murky, moody, mysterious,


All destinations are unknown,

All origins hidden.

There is no before

Or after. There is only


And where is here?

Where are we now?

Surrounded by cloud,

the fog of life,

we can see nothing,

hear nothing,

feel nothing but cold


Out beyond the magic,

beyond the mist, something

exists, but what?

What can we really know

Of what we cannot sense?

Girl On The Bus

In the middle of a shabby

council estate, a girl gets on the bus.

She is wrong.

Something about her is wrong.

She is in the wrong place. She is in the wrong

time. She wears clothes from the forties,

fifties maybe.

She is impeccable.

This is a word I never use but

it suits her, it fits her

as well as her clothes. She wears big, round

spectacles, just the right size for her roseapple

face. Blonde hair curls out from beneath a

hat, I don’t know the style name, it is plain,

like something a flapper would wear. Her jacket,

lincoln green, is cut just right, flared, resting on

her hips. Her skirt, a plaid material, faint check,

moulds to her figure. Incongruous, she wears

beatbox headphones, clamped over the hat.

She mounts the bus from a shitty street,

where I have seen shitty people do

shitty things to other people.

How did she make herself this way,

here, in this place?

She sits behind me and I

can’t look. Thinking about her, I drift off

and almost miss her when she gets up

and leaves the bus a few stops later.

I know I will never

see her again. I will never be able

to say to her,

“You are magnificent.”

Games With Friends

Playing games with friends.

It’s not about the winning,

It’s about playing.

You And You

In the darkness

In the night time

You can see yourself,

Alone, without the filter

Of other feelings and opinions

To colour you or taint you

Or paint you in a way

You would not recognise.

You can see yourself

In the dark.

There is only

You and you

And you cannot hide

From yourself.

What you know of you

Nobody else

Can ever know.

All of the bad things

The sins

Everything you’ve done wrong

Are known only to you.

Forget them.

Let them go.

They are done.

You can be a better you

From here on.

You have been

Better than you know.

Only you and you

Can change you.

Only I and I

Know how.

New Liars

British elections

The same sad old set of lies

Told by new liars

Do Unto Others

Do unto others

But just to be safe make sure

That you do it first

Stark White Light

A stark white street light

Bright wet slick, a coal dark night

Dogs bark, out of sight

Lost Days

Days spent not writing

Spent on the dutiful things

Are days lost to me

Save Yourselves

Mizzle drizzles down

The kind that soaks you right through

We must save ourselves.

Morning Ritual

It takes ten minutes

From the waking morning kiss

To the slamming door