NaPoWriMo 13/30

One of those couples

They go to the pub

and say more words ordering drinks

than to each other.

They wield empty threats

like light sabres

about moving home with mother.

They promised to build a new life

but are content

to live in rubble

He rarely buys her  flowers and

only then from garages

if he’s in trouble.

They gave up giving cards on birthdays

because they couldn’t

read each other’s scrawl.

When asked what they have in common

they both say

“Alcohol”.

They both cast admiring glances

at singletons when they think

the coast is clear.

And long ago let love subside,

replaced with equal parts

apathy and  fear.

May we never be

one of those couples

NaPoWriMo 12/30

Love is the original GPS

Call to me
in sunshine or rain,
from mountain top
or desert plain,
in city scape
or fields of grain.

Call to me
whatever the hour
when days are honey
or bittersweet sour;
if holding thorns
or holding flowers.

Call to me
when out of sight
at dusk or dawn or
a minute to midnight;
call in darkness,
call in light.

Call to me
if your plans are blown
in heaving crowds
or all alone.
Never the prodigal,
never disowned.

Whenever, wherever,
call to me.

NaPoWriMo 11/30 Love, Light and Peace

I'm not going to deny it. I'm really busy and have lots to do so this is a quick write and a simple format but it is still heartfelt.

Love, Light and Peace.


Let love be your compass
Let love be your breath
Let love be your living
Let love be your death

Let light be your conscience
Let light be your guide
Let light be your constant
Let light be your pride

Let peace be your comfort
Let peace be your shawl
Let peace be your portion
Let peace be your all

NaPoWriMo 10/30 Paper Diamonds: a poem for Woody Guthries's lost songs

Paper Diamonds

“This year it will be 100 years since the American folk singer, Woody Guthrie was born. When Guthrie died in 1967, he left complete lyrics for more than 3000 songs which lay undiscovered until his daughter Nora found them in the mid 1990s”. BBC Website.

I guess it’s the same as love.
How long they were lost doesn’t matter,
it’s the being found that counts.

Three thousand sleeping beauties
awaiting the kiss of daylight
to bring them back to life.

Imagine the daughter;
heart leaping like salmon in her chest
up the waterfall of lost lyrics.

Each one, “As fresh as if written this morning”,
a love letter, carrying him back
in stark, pencil-scratch reality.

They say, it is only the three-dimensional
arrangement of atoms that distinguishes
diamonds from graphite.

Look at the man’s wisdom-soaked words
and tell me, we haven’t found a new element:
paper diamonds.

Talking to Rain

I have spent the day

listening to rain.

Tried to translate

what it must be telling me.

Why else

would it be so insistent?

Gentle fat splats

escalated to urgent drum rolls.

Decoding  raindrops

is not as easy as it seems.

I am still clueless but

making the effort has helped us bond.

In lesson two  

I will tell it my name

and rain will teach me

how to order espresso.

NaPoWriMo 9/30 Day 9 Eavesdropping

Eavesdropping

Weightless,
your words spiral,
shape-shifting
wind-drifting
verbal pollen
looking for victims.

On hearing,
the force exerted
revokes the law of physics.
Issued so lightly
yet landing with
torque-laden violence.

Finding you is easy;
corpses are your bread crumbs,
survivors no matter how maimed
consider themselves lucky.
And yet concern is a stranger
to your cold, too beautiful face.

NaPoWriMo 7/30 Day 7 poem

Watford Junction

On the train home
with ever-growing distance
from the last bout of hollowness,

he felt his face crease,
sharp paper cut edges under
the burden of emotional origami.

These nights,
sometimes syrup,
sometimes sulphur

never made sense
when stripped down
to raw, clinical data.

The rhythmic, soporific, soundtrack
drew his head to the cool glass,
its ice kiss to his forehead

inspring new false promises.
This will be his last time.
It is time to move on.