Poetry Blogs (2019, wolf)
A wolf howls skywards
To tell the pale, waxing moon
Of the solar death
The raven squawks in flight
As it tells the morning star
Of the sun’s rebirth
A man cries alone
Unaware of dark or light
In his Brexit hell
Saturday 21st September 2019 11:27 am
Do you have colour in your cheeks?
Do you go to sleep remembering what you seek?
Do you recall what it was like to be corporeal,
or does it not feel like that at all?
Do you wake to find your pillow wet at night?
Do you see the wolves congregating under moonlight,
and howl at your own stupidity for staying inside?
Do you stare at the files on your desk each weekday
Sunday 6th March 2016 6:48 pm
“Sweet Katarina, dance for me”,
said the man with the black balloon,
whose face looked rather like a wolf
if glanced in the back of a spoon -
and for each dance she did for him
he would pass her another string
with a midnight helium ball
tied on to its end with a ring.
She danced until her little hands
were full of the magical twine
and the villagers all agreed
Friday 4th July 2014 2:09 pm