Tuesday, 30 August 2016

Third Person Chef

You be
cooking your book,
rewriting recipes,
dealing out fresh dinners,
dishes of this,
dashes of that,
added in,
for the here and
new salty combinations,
feeding hunger pangs,
within hearts,
stirring up as the pot of your story
simmers, saut├ęs,
fills with flavour,
sweet scripture savour,
words that marinade in minds,
your best vintage soaking in,
alongside new wine,
taste-buds sampling,
good hearty food,
no less,
from your holy kitchen,

Saturday, 25 June 2016

Lost for Words

Lifelong distance call-
you're b rea k i n g
down a bad line:
Is it something in the atmosphere today?

shreds the air:
beyond repair?

Citizens of nowhere
lost in the wire,
fax failing,
no message to

be engaged to,
no phone call home,
no place to call our own.


between two kingdoms,
we cannot see,

united once
were we.

Thursday, 31 March 2016


Waves echoing inside us,
tides, here and gone,
on sea-shores pulsing,
inclining into sinking sands,
dousing every grain,
wiping clear the memory
of days of sun and rain.

Back to the ocean,
water will relent,
exposing sea-shells,
side by side,
holding the crescendo,
you and I,
within our curved backs,
beauty in the ridges,
ready for the call of the wind,
we wake.

Wednesday, 25 November 2015

Going ForWARd

Princes of peace
and the power of the air,
go square,
square go,
on the streets,
of everywhere:
drop a cent,
make a welt,
push a button on a
and kA-boom,
god is great,
coming soon
love is hate;
hate is love,
ditch your soul,
evolve to animal,
on the wings of a dove
hate hatred
rise above,
all that's left
on these streets,
are the choices,
when we meet,
prescribe peace,
for our feet
unclench fists
or delete.

Sunday, 30 August 2015

Flight of Weakness

Out of the ashes
weakness rises,
a bird unfettered
feathers flying,
the blue sky tips her hat/
she soars the currents,
no preening power postures,
serving as imposters,
weakness wills against herself
and wins,
strength's favour
as she grins,
and bears the wind,
she flies against,
and in,
and swoops and swirls
though few can see,
she pecks a paradox in me,
reveals her morning song
of weak but strong,
trills last but first,
the meek inherit Earth,
the born perform rebirth,
she flies: the face of the absurd,
a most peculiar kind of bird.

Thursday, 27 August 2015

Haiku in the Clouds.

Sky strides in my face
evolutionary thought:
who needs a rainbow?

Friday, 14 August 2015

On Hold

In your grasp,
Fingers clasp
A ring round wrist,
Thumb prints nestle,
Digits wrestle into
Flesh and skin,
Limb and bones,
Held and honed
Richly owned.

When this grip,
Began to slip:
With sweat-filled palms,
Veins at risk,
Your holy hold
Refused to twist,
Stuck with this son,
Till he caught on...