Standing room only…


Standing room only, another first world problem,

Almost two hours of dense stagnant air,

As I breath in the exhausts of my fellow travellers,

I shift from ball to heel, hip to hip.

The sticky striped surface formally known as ‘carpet’, 

Combines forces with gravity until many subdue,

Not me… No way.

I spotted that papier-mâché slurry being dragged from the WC with every return of it’s desperate visitor.

I while away the time glancing between my phone, the windows and the people,

Flat-affect faces entranced by the rhythmic sway,

Eyes drooping relative to the temperature of the carriage,

Many concede, heads bouncing downward as they dream of their destination’s comforts.

Outside I watch the sunset, that timeless beauty,

As the pastures, trees and hills paint blurred lines on my mind,

The burning sky reminds me… 

This is the moment, this is always the moment…

I take a deep breath of dense air… 

I watch a young child asleep in her mothers arms…

I catch the eye of the old gentleman in the flat-cap leaning on his stick,

I smile… He smiles…

The sun sets. 

Pace of Life


I have, as I’m sure we all have, been through a turbulent period of life that threw me off whatever path I’m currently walking. Another disconnect from what, in my mind, is important… Family, friendship, truth of self, presence of place and creativity. 

With that in mind I’ve decided to post regularly again… I’m not sure if my prose/poetic capacity will be up to the challenge but I’m attempting it nonetheless.

So with that in mind, here’s a poem as a tribute to this morning… 

Hail and blessings to you and yours!

Productive Times

Rising to the electronic dawn chorus,

Gravity tugs downward on my vertebrae as I stand,

Careful, purposeful and tentative foot placement,

I slink quietly down the staircase,

Listening to the silence of the darkness,

5am revealing a certain tune to me,

It’s silent melody exudes potential and creativity,

It affords me space… Far from the schedule of the “day”,

The soloing ticking clock, keeps me mindful of each passing second,

Moment… By moment.., 

With a hot cup of tea…the first, the best,

I sit at the keyboard… Smiling.

Leaky Bottom

I’ve been away on holiday, to the warmer climate of Turkey… Whilst the break and the change of pace has been much appreciated I was looking forward to returning home for a much needed English Breakfast Tea 🙂
So… Imagine the perplexed nature of my thinking as I endeavoured to make that most traditional of drinks this morning to no avail!

Leaky Bottom

I stare at the puddle just after the morning “click”,
Wanting only to quench my thirst and dampen my tongue,
Following a night of mixed unconscious randomness,
Awoken during a conversation with a purple Hedgehog.
The liquid begins to trace is winding path,
Slinking across its faux granite landscape,
Onward to the edge, succumbing to gravity,
Drip, drip, drip…
I blink once… twice…. thrice… Watching.
Wyldwood Radio adding background dramatics,
As the potential beverage, now just a puddle,
Sits on the floor, denying me my Tea.
I glance back to the source, mumbling,
A sacred curse upon the kettle,
For this morning I shall not drink,
That break of day nectar…