My dad had quite a weather-beaten face.

For what it’s worth, he was considered white,

But sun and sand had scorched his countenance

(North Africa was where he served his war).

Once an outraged lady asked my mum:

‘You all right, dear? I feel sorry for you,

What with your husband being, well, you know.

Where does he come from?’ My mum replied ‘Bow.’

The lady pursed her lips. ...

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I am not the fat girl
I am not the skinny girl.

I am both.

I am both the bingeing in the night
And the starving from pure fright.

I am both

In the mirror I am both.

I am the always too thin pile of bones
And the body too big to call home.

I am both.

In the shops I am both.

I am the girl who is too curvy to wear cute clothes
And the girl who's Inability to feel sexy make...

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All aboard the rollercoaster
strap yourselves in and begin the ride.

Hold firm and think of those,
who try to listen and speak
without prejudice.

It is something of which they can be proud.

They do not hide behind a fake smile
or an ignorant grin
but are open, honest and vulnerable, too.

Attempting to ward off the shallow words
flung back at them in a attempt
to curtail and sile...

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I am from the sun, the moon and all that lies between.

I am from the dark, the light and that which isn't seen.

I am from whence the wind blows and home is ever out of reach.

I am from the all lives I've touched and the lessons within.

I am love, I am fear, I am truth, I am sin.

I am where I belong, though I yearn to fit in.

I am mocked, I am scorned and all the persecu...

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It was surprising that after work, on Thursday,

she wanted to meet and share her bed with a man, again.

Maybe men, even, she thought, suddenly indecisive and guilty,

but for society, men, peers, their judgment, their pursed lips and nods of disapproval.

Now that she was almost home, her fireplace and Scotch seemed dearer, as usual;

the icy blanket of her acceptance of undesired celi...

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Catechism

I will not be defined by ancient Gods,

or the archaic teachings in their books.

I will tread warily around their words

and avoid the hidden traps and snaring hooks.

I will not stand behind a coloured flag

and spout my blunt imperialistic views

or drape it on a coffin when I die

or burn it on the early evening news.

I will not make a choice that’s...

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Fake nostalgia spews out from your head

For a sepia England that was never there

Hatred junkie, you know

Where the blood river flows

Feel the bile at your knees

Marching bands drown out your higher brain

Blaring voices drive your soul insane

Hatred junkie, you feel

Like a cog on a wheel

Grinding so out of time – after time

God made you useless

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