One cannot be a foothold
To carry life and limb
One can barely be a handhold
Secure for you to cling
One cannot be an anchor
In a fall to take the slack
One cannot be a lifeline
When there seems no turning back
Instead a close companion
Can cheer us on in love
But surely as the day is long
Shall share the view above
Wiping crumbs off cafe tables
Scooting glasses from their deaths
Scrubbing spit off spotty faces
End of day, treasure rest
More they learn, more the chatter
Philosophy of small talk
Wonder where your mind escaped
Once I had learned to walk
Hear your voice in mind over mother
Tea sipped lips kiss mass of curls
Broken record breaks the silence
Time revolves, their lives unfurl
Chords of chaos wrap up fondly
Softened by warm blood lines
Endearing past, forbearance endless
Nagging finite-ness of time
For Andrea
“I would love to have more time with my mother…
She is part of me.” – Crown Princess Mary of Denmark
Rural fringe
Dwells common cringe
Cardboard-cutout street
Set like flint
Hinterland where
Lawn and forest meet
Cliff frontier
Carved face looks on
Ranks of timber felling
Sinking ales
Saloon servants
Stirring tales a’ telling
Piano stool swing
whisky jar fling
Rest old timey den
Battle weary
Laden pilgrim
Poised sword of pen
For Liam Hugh
“We take up task eternal, and the burden and the lesson,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
All the past we leave behind…” -Walt Whitman
Words held up
Words fall down,
Coerce, betray
Power of say
Thought into being
Divine intent
Sublime Lament
Testify, lie
Rhyme, rap,
float on high
Pervade dreams
Persuade, pierce
Convey pain
Double-edge knife
Give and take away
Fleeting and infinite
Reprise or pray
Join and separate
Purge and convict
Restore and redeem
Dismay
Better put down breakfast green
Chia swollen in my cheek
Sprouted spelt, kefir, scobie
Ferment mouldy – in one week!
Gather, feast on fruit, fowler
Pummel nuts, mix with seeds
Grind and blend, raw and cultured
Peck at shoots, forage weeds
Solar passive perch above
Cocky landlord’s heavy hand
Our beauty mask smother mud
Bury bodies in the sand
It ruffles feathers, talk above
Telling us to live our lives
Strictly watching whether we
Survive or if we thrive
Barely tolerable compare them to
That barking brute who’s tethered
With left wing broken, right wing spared
For escapades we’re de-feathered
We hobble round and round about
Without a speck of fleas
For now we’ll nest, one day we’ll dare
To spread wings, fancy-free
Today I wear a light grey merino top
It clashes with the rainbow scarf around my neck
But I wear it still as it is starting to match my hair
The people on my street don’t care much for matching
While the sun still shines the people browse along
Faces I meet they parade up street
Their past-times more familiar than names
Sitting beside the hearsay at the apple crate café
The brightly coloured relics of their hey-day
Brighten up the lives that brace against the passing grey
Away from the fray, yet near the river mouth
Just past forty three degrees south
Peering above my flat cup of white
The silage bales stew in the distant sun
Which competes with the wind for our small talk
Those endless competitors above watch us walk
People repeatedly robe and disrobe themselves
To much amusement of the elements
Refusing to be beaten in, they bask and burn
Under thin ozone and populate their skin
Little milk foam and chocolate smudged moustaches
Wander off on long leash with forget-me-nots and top knots
Blowing in the breeze, running, squatting, jumping
On mud-spot rainbow legs and boots like little bugs
Eating rocks and ripping leaves under the vacant gaze
Of tired eyes hiding under free-form hair
The wasps hover over mistaking my plate
For the garden from which it came
I make a side serving for them so they can sit
Humble company float before me incessantly
But much less obtrusively than
My own little bugs
I could never live my life
feeling tethered to a post
The kibble in the jaw
Blood-sucking insect host
Instead I’m free as I please
To tip toe through the grass
My head and eyes inclined toward
The twerps that flit right past
I’ll chase and pin them down
Put their noise to peace
I dash and climb to hiding spots
Abruptly but with ease
Until I find the dark has come
A great wide cavern between
Where I am and where once was
My bed, my comfort clean
All spent the night and then some
Pacing to and fro
Waiting for the light to come
Then waiting for it to go
Along the black and tarry patch
Between me and my rest
I hear them call, I start, then stop
Put their loyalty to the test
But twerps and grass and leaves
Do not bring me my fill
I dare the black and tarry patch
And a glimpse of my window sill
So I lay beside them, then
Get more than I deserve
I stretch and yawn, stomach intact
Curl once more and purr
‘Please don’t talk about me when I’m gone.’
Why does the world expect
My other half to be
my everything
To do so the world
would miss out on
All of me
But I do not miss
The world
‘Love to all of you’
Ms Monroe
Once swallowed and stewed digest
Brings health benefits to bones
Riches the blood and clears the chest
To the marrow, aches and groans
‘Tis a seasoned batch prepared
The choicest flour and oil of olive
With roasted meats the finest fare
Another death so I may live
But not of least this time a brew
This water mixed with chrysolite
Was not so choicest, fine or new
A vile deed done to judge the right
Born of man and brewed by spite
A jealous heart no one could tame
A caution and a crash each night
No salted drops to quench this flame
It scorched the house inside and out
Its inhabitants fled to far afield
Awaiting while her stomach pouts
Expectant under weight of yield
Bursting out with torrential storm
Sunflowers opened break of day
A fair one came at last was born
The spell of bitter brew gave way
Numbers 5
It was so very cold to hold
I looked forward to the end
When I no longer had to bear
This burden of a thing
But instead I took it walking
Out into the eery night
I spoke soft words into it
In case the dark core came to light
Not a tremble or a murmur
Exuded from its shell
I had to share it with someone
What can this be, pray, tell?
This cold thing you carry all round
You ought to wear some gloves
Protect yourself until you can
Find another whom it loves
So able now to make attempt
To crack it to its core
I chipped and broke off little bits
But it just grew some more
Tenderly carrying for years on end
Just drop it, what is it anyway?
It’s unlikely to be worth a thing
the passersby would say
So let them pass while i protect
The cold and fragile core
Of something that of unknown worth
Someone just might adore
Count the stars of heaven 
