At our door

When eyes watch,

In disbelief, 

Does the heart, 

Not sigh, relief!.

Do we feel the hurt, 

And pain, 

Of the flooded, 

In the rain, 

Child with eyes, 

So hurt and lost, 

Drought torn lands, 

And human cost, 

Of refugee, 

Who’s homeland war, 

Family gone, 

Such death he bore, 

With cruel tools, 

The child abused, 

Too young to fight, 

Beat down, confused


As is demanded, 

Any cries, 

Short reprimanded, 

Children taken, 

Homes destroyed, 

Tactics vile,

Of fear deployed.

The knife that’s carried, 

For defence, 

Yet kills another, 

Makes no sense

When we see these things, 

And more, 

Would we want them, 

At our door ?. 

Do we give a sigh, 

Relief ?. 

Yet still look on, 

In disbelief ?. 













Let me speak

A voice, 



No fractured chords. 

No injury. 

He wants to…


But nobody..


He tries. 

He has tried before. 



Silenced by disinterest. 

Silenced by the dismissive wave of a callous hand. 

Silenced by ignorance. 

I know better than you. 

More than you. 

Why ?. 

Bother ?. 

Why speak at all ?. 

Silenced by the crowd. 

Engulfed by the inharmonious choir of those who say..




No piece of paper imbues knowledge..

Do not use it as a shield..

Knowledge is power 


Do not abuse it. 


Listen to the voice. 

It has..

A right. 

A right to speak. 

I have a right..

I have a right to speak..


Why won’t you hear me ?. 

What crime have I committed ?. 

What have I..

Done wrong. 

To you. 

That you will not..



I am..


The mists of indifference,

They take me. 

I am..

















The Point of it All

I remember

I remember now




Why remember

Why remember


That hurts.


The passing of time

Inexorable ticking of the clock


Marking my life.


No mirror required

To see each failure

Each moment

When life

Felt empty.

Too many

Far too many

That crushing sense

Of waste.

What is meaning ?

The meaning

Of my life

When all I see

Is nothing.

I remember

I remember now

This time

Because it’s yet

To go wrong.


It too

Will fade

An inconsequential life

Pointless existence

To be





Drops against the glass. 

Smearing the landscape. 

Wet fingers, 


Long crystalline, 


Silvery hues. 

Green, now abstract

Trees, now shapeless in the storm. 


This landscape, 

Offers up, 

Elusive figures, 

Waving sinuously, 

Arms flaccid. 

Wind drops, 

A moment’s clarity,

A vision,

Sharp focus, 

Only to be, 

Washed away. 


In tight ranks, 

Battle ready, 

Dark and ominous, 

Grey, shades of grey, 

To darkest black, 

Blue, Purple, 

Children of the storm. 


Silvery trails. 

Pin pricks of fluid, 

Edging glass. 


The slow drip, 

Fall from green, 


Earth washed, 

Lie atop the soil, 


On earths bedding. 








Through glass, 

I see it, 










Living in

Do you live in hope ?


I’ve never lived there.

Do you live in fear ?


Why do you care ?.

You must live in a state of panic.


I’ve heard of many states but not one called panic.

I hope for many things.

I fear many things.

I panic about many things.

But I do not

Live there.

I do not live on a spectrum.

I might fall off.

My balance is awful.

And I’m afraid of heights.

Is this spectrum a high one ?

Is it lost in the clouds ?

If I fall off, will someone catch me ?


What is it like to live in hope ?

Is it nice ?

Or, if hope fails, disappointing?

I presume,

If you live in fear ..

Then, that’s not nice ?

And this state of panic ?

Does it have a capital ?

Who else lives there ?

Is it big, or small ?

Can I leave ?

So many questions.

Questions about questions.

I live my life.

I am hopeful of change.

I fear for my future.

I panic and am anxious.

Ah, you are in an anxious state ?

Anxious state ?

What does that mean ?

Is Texas an anxious state ? Or Florida ?

I. Am. Just. Anxious.

I. Am. Just. Hopeful.

I. Am. Just. Fearful.

I. Am. Autistic.

I. Have. ADHD.

That is who I am.

Let me be me.

The tightrope

Losing my balance,

Upon the high wire,

Afraid that I’ll stumble,

Afraid that I’ll tire,

Unsure of my footing,

Wary of each move,

One foot before other,

Can’t get in the groove,

The wire keeps on shaking,

I’m dropping the ball,

With no safety net,

To catch me when I fall,

Playful winds pushing,

Storm coming fast,

I’m losing my grip,

Now I know I won’t last,

Each step brings me closer,

But to what end,

I’m breaking or broken,

There are things I can’t mend,

I’m stuck on this high wire,

Can’t go forward nor back,

Don’t know what to do,

For it’s courage I lack,

I’m tripping, I’m stumbling,

I’m fumbling it all,

I’m crashing, careering,

Hitting the wall,

My minds in a mess,

I’m confused, and I’m dazed,

Each day that I’m here,

Sadly, I’m still amazed,

Under achieving,

And failing each day,

I’m on this high wire,

Yet I’ve still lost my way,

The paths cold and narrow,

I can’t see the ground,

I’m trapped in this vacuum,

And can’t hear a sound,

I’m so isolated,

Up here on my wire,

My sanity’s fading,

Situation is dire,

Balance is lost,

I’m slipping away,

And nobody hears me,

No word that I say,

Perhaps I deserve it,

This slow, empty fade,

Back into nothing,

Lost in the shade.

As seasons change

A sunlit, dappled meadow, 

A tree of broadest beam, 

Wild flowers danced beneath me, 

The fade of summers dream, 

Gently floating, on the breeze, 

Leaves of many shades, 

Watching green, slow change to brown, 

Through periodic fades. 

A morning dew to kiss the soil, 

Leaves silver in its wake, 

A finest sheen like gossamer, 

Incandescent lake, 

A myriad of colours still, 

Swayed to soundless tune, 

Petals of the rainbow, 

Vanishing too soon. 

High above the birds in flight, 

Set black against the blue, 

Wheeled in tight formation, 

Some soon to say adieu, 

The heat of summer’s sun recedes, 

As night time turns to chill, 

Evenings now are closing in, 

In dusks light, calm and still. 

Gold and Amber light the way, 

We welcome in the fall, 

An autumn breeze springs up, unbound, 

And whips round trees so tall. 

Crunching leaves, the fallen spoils, 

Of nature mark the way, 

The changing of the seasons, 

The slow fading of the day.

At last, with gentle whisper, 

Summer blinks, and it is gone, 

The world is once again renewed, 

And time just carries on. 








The ritual

What’s been happening ?


It’s been six weeks ?

-watching me carefully. Gauging my reaction-


Well ? When we last met you mentioned …

I know

Anything ?


Nothing’s changed ?

No. Nothing.

-creaking chair. Pen placed carefully on top of pad on his lap. Fingers steepled-

I see.


Have you tried ?

(Internally processed – yes, I have tried. I’ve tried so damn hard)


Really ?


You’ve tried everything ?


Yes. I’ve tried everything. But I don’t know what I’m doing. Can’t you see how helpless I am. Can’t you see what I need or hear what I need. I’m so lost!

I see

-no, you can’t see

-clear signs of disappointment. He doesn’t believe me-

Right. See you in 6 weeks. Perhaps you could …


-I leave-

-Door closes-

(Sense of frustration, desperation and overwhelming need to scream- carefully contained as I fight back the tears)

– walk to car-

How did it go today ?



Pain by word

In the dark,



A man,


His thoughts,


Daggers thrust,

Words like knives,

Open wounds,

If night survives,

Sacred ichor,

Precious blood,

Crimson raindrops,

Scarlet flood,

Self inflicted,

Out to in,

No prayer to god,

No cleansing sin,

On broken knees,

On crippled limb,

On twisted back,

By nature’s whim,

In evils eye,

Envenomed tongue,

Piercing bolt,

Malicious song,

Discordant choir,

Of vicious barb,


Their nightly garb,

Shadows hiding,

Face obscure,

Tormented soul,

To pain endure,

Retreat from light,

Lest image true,

Save themselves,

To wound anew,

Cesspit dwelling,

Sewer keep,

Foetid armour,

Noxious weep,

Evil torment,

Sight unseen,

Upon blank canvas,

Never been.

A cheery little tale

In the night, 

When they bite, 

They don’t half give me, 

Quite a fright, 

Those nasty bugs, 

They don’t give hugs, 

They’re not stupid, 

They’re no mugs, 

See them grinning, 

My heads spinning, 

That’s because, 

They know they’re winning, 

Tiny pincers nip my skin, 

They nip it where the skin is thin, 

They like to do it, 

On my shin. 

Nip by nip, 

See it rip, 

Skin all bloody, 

Makes them flip, 

A thousand eyes, 

A thousand tries, 

A thousand mouths, 

A thousand sighs, 

Pleasured moans, 

Ecstatic groans, 


Towards my bones. 

Care not the least, 

Each little beast, 

From inside out, 

They’ve come to feast. 

Munch, munch, munch, 

I have a hunch, 

That they see me, 

As their lunch.. 

Oh, what a lark, , 

They’ve left their mark, 

And now they’ll hide, 

Until its dark, 

They’ll feast again, 

Till none remains, 

One day, perhaps, 

They’ll eat my brain!!!