Monthly Archives: September 2017

Demand back 

your hours,

I’m here 

leaning back

on your sigh.


Worth is 

light emitted,  

for those watching

morality play.

Less imperfect

more of the flawless,

a vain boast

or mark of Cain.

More colourless

than colour, 

well known 

blood red

they betray. 

Dead weight

on the too dead,

to live in the best way. 

Silver coin in palm,

front face divided in four.

Fingers close over. 

Not always wildly

into the dark,

You can 

choose light 

behind the shadow. 

I’ve seen a man who has drowned. Found face-down, blotched skin, blue and purple tinge, bruises fading and swollen. Tide had brought him in, water swirling, earth set in its spin. Someone’s everything; feeling nothing for anyone, came to rest as nobody’s anything. 

Fingers trace over heart,

how far back do ‘we’ go?

I say, ‘Since the start’.

So few words, for one who fills so many hours.