When the masks come off

When the masks come off, what will we see,

A spitting rage or smile of empathy?

Who will we be, will our eyes at last see free

Or will we blindly stumble, lead by lies on our tv

Away from our best to a broken rumble, a grumble

At how things are, compared with how they used to be.

Hands scrubbed clean, Face, rarely fully seen,

Space demand...

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Age

Does it all come down to this?

A daily crossword, an unchecked list

A wish, a kiss and curtain open morning

A body struggling to move, to sit

Without the pain of feeling it.

The struggle dragging on your sock

And watching seconds pass on mantle clock

A life well lived becomes a yawning

As drooping eyes and sagging jaw

Become the life which once was so much mo...

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Another cheery poem

I hear the rain patter on my window pane

As lockdown looms again I feel pain

When will the sun from clouds emerge again?

This world has changed, gone quite insane

Problems of the past seem small and tame

We writhe and shake, against each deadly strain

Stay in, save lives, the never ending refrain.

And as we face another day alone at home

I sit at...

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Scroll On

We unroll our scroll as our lives unfurl

White space marked with lines, a playful spiral,

Notes our early days, our growth from shape to letter

Fitting together, standing beside

Then better words whether short or longer

Till linked and joined by others, we trace

Our lives by a face, a hand, and

Move onwards, at times flowing, going gently,

Smooth from line to ...

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Last Orders

The bloodshot eyes and shuffling gait

The chilling sound of words of hate

Hairy hands from foreign lands,

The hounds of Hell that light expel.

They drool and stare with unkempt hair

 And grubby nails, tattoos as well.

A howling scream, a warning bell

And gulping down their steaming potions

They tumble out with great commotion

To shuffle, stumble on the st...

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The Caterpillar Club

Plummeting seawards, my up side

Turned down, heels over head,

Tombstoning, like a balloon of lead.

In freefall, all grip slipped, plot lost

I fell from Grace, at pace, tumbling impostor,

Confidence shot, like a plumb line, trying

To straighten myself out, find again my bearings.

Inner imploding, mind exploding,

With ruminations, recriminations,

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