can't breathe and his kidneys have had it
he's a dead duck if the machinery ceases
I could do anything I wanted with the guy
as a girl I used to pull my dolls to pieces
he gets no visitors so what is the point?
zero enquiries or flowers, no one cares
scant thanks when I change his nappies
all I ever get is moans and blank stares
does he have a clue how much this c...
Friday 25th June 2021 11:10 am
Audio reading: https://soundcloud.com/tomalexwrite/renee-by-a-thread
Down the corridor, comes a scream
Was it physical pain
or the horror of finally learning
the way this game is turning
They took your clothes
gave you a gown
there was nothing to do but lay right down
Now, the machine breathes
hung by a thread and leaving soon
Faint flashes behind tired eyelids
Tuesday 5th May 2020 4:53 pm
And then it seemed
The mist and perhaps my mind swirled round
A sickening looping helix
From that still small sphere of heat.
In the chill of a dusk we descended
Beneath a frosted sickle moon
Descended into the Stygian blackness
Of land above a still lake
From which no lunar gleam escaped
The frigid darkness was intense, solid
Consuming all my senses -
Wednesday 4th April 2018 12:01 am
I can tell you exactly when it happened. I was sat on one of those plasticy leatherette chairs. You know the ones, they have them in all hospitals, they're easy to wipe clean if someone has a little accident. I had my hand clasped about my wife's fingers and though I knew I was squeezing them too hard she didn't complain.
She, the doctor that is, or should I say consultant? Anyway, she leant in...
Wednesday 31st January 2018 4:43 pm
The Royal Free hums its energetic life
As I sit musing in my garden
A background drone always there
As the hospital is always open for care
It's summer so the trees mask its physical presence
Just the joined up sound of health and excellence
We moved here with two small boys
And thought being near The Free might be handy
Energetic boys in an energetic city
Who knows the...
Monday 28th August 2017 10:59 am
How brave, in reality, is a ‘brave face’?
A facade shared, it would seem,
by the majority of the human race.
Beneath the flaking paint of a painted mask
lies a truth too long and painful to explain
no matter how oft you care to ask.
How long before the cracks become too wide
to conceal with powders and creams
and the crimson smile starts to slide.
Tuesday 9th June 2015 10:49 am
Sunday 23rd December 2012 1:48 am