WORDS

WORDS

It was really aggression
When it came to it
You burnt anger as fuel
And blamed the excess
On me.

I tried to oil your mood
But it caught fire,
I watched the road,
Willing it to clear
Like my splitting head
Afraid to block ears,

Held a barrier that bounced
Off the steering wheel
The dash, the roof
Through windows
And gaps.

I shuddered but it didn’t
Stop, it kept rolling
And rallying, raging;
Collapsing my world.

WET DAYS

WET DAYS

It was Monday
Everyone at school or not yet born.
I remember every square in the pavement.
Wet days remind me of mum wearing a sad face,
Walking towards the village determined
To fill shopping bags with the beginnings
Of busy meals for milling children.
It was the only time I felt close.
Sometimes she’d say something,
Tell me who lived in which house
And how nice they kept their gardens.
In days when it rained
Our closeness dissolved in stooped shoulders,
The anticipated heavy bags, against the rain.
When the sun kinder, other women
stopped to chat;
I didn’t like that,
They came into our space,
Mine, mums and cracked pavements.
She measured her marriage against other couples
Who passed in cars, or walked side by side
Chatting, smiling, swinging shopping bags in unison.
Too proud to carry shopping or feelings -
My dad; being a farmer,
Never looked inside the heart.
On rainy days he was in the pub
Until closing-time.　
At home, he opted for sleep and
Peaceful isolated dreams.
Mum pulled the scarf around her head,
The wind flapped her mackintosh,
Her slim legs moved purposely through life.

QUENCHED

QUENCHED
It bugged me at the beginning;

Relying on other peoples wells

To quench my thirst. My own

Myriad ran dry.

I crouched, over

Other people’s supplies;

Drawing up slowly, as

Droplets fell back down

Causing plopping sounds....

I watched as the ripples,

Awakened something inside

That cool shimmering rim.

Can’t begin to tell you

How it felt, after being

Empty for so long.

WILD THINGS

WILD THINGS

She waited for me to admire the house

While I absorbed the trees along her lane
I was never invited back again.
kicking leave’s beneath my feet;
Chestnuts sticky and sweet, sycamore
Seeds cascading the air;

Hair full off twigs. My school friend

Didn’t care for the wild things, that
Autumn brings. Watching, while I jumped;
Shaking conkers from trees.
Not one bit pleased.

LEAF

LEAF

It is easier to be on the edge

Than to be in the middle of things,
But today I thought I’d say
‘Thank you’ to everyone,

To land fleetingly; someone

Who gives and takes nourishment -
Decays.

JUMPING STREAMS

JUMPING STREAMS

I think of childhood

Jumping streams.
A day that began in
Day dream. I loved
That mid-air feeling
A shore footed landing
On the other side.

Life was like that at

Twelve years old
Bravely challenging
Balancing harvesting
Wonder. Put me in a
Class in a uniform
Of cute chatter
And I fell mid-stream.

I stood there among peers

In their neat clipped
Lives, along stuffy
Corridors. Out of
The whole class,
I was always first,

Out through the door when

The bell woke me.

GLOBE

GLOBE

That reach is what I remember –

In a time that stretched
Like a distant ball
Of childhood
Clasped in both hands;

A globe of time
Endless sunsets;
The rapture of unreserved
Release.

No trials to drag one down

Only team-mates and the ball;
The occasional stumble of pain cured
By the purgative power of play.

In adulthood - the hour

Gets shorter; led
Like sheep to the slaughter;
Too many rules -

Deprived of time and its tools,

They say - hardship keeps us
on the ball,
But these days -

I don’t like it when I fall.