Timing

This poem is about how things can twist and change so easily and wondering what would happen if we could ‘backdate’ an encounter Sometimes when I am sitting Drinking coffee Dreaming of you I imagine what it would be like If we could turn back the clocks To when we were not pitted and scarred…

Speedy

Today my poem must be swift A rhyme instead of sonnet As I have got to do my chores So four lines are my Limit

Identity theft

We all are meant to have a tribe a family that we can live inside a group who understands our ways Accepting us And yet these days It seem to me that this coherence Is suffering mass interference We don’t sit down and talk direct We click and type on t’internet And it is easy…

Patience

Having Parkinsons means I have to learn patience….one day…. Wait with me While I tremble Wait with me While I falter Wait with me While I regroup While I reset While I restart Wait with me Or not I will be here Until I can walk Elsewhere.

Scrap Heap Challenge

Day 2’s second poem….an homage to using all your scraps up in the kitchen….the glamour!! Fairly loose leeks Kept in the fridge For weeks Brussel sprouts Crying to get out Of their brown bag And other swag From my unlovely shelves Are chopped And skinned And twinned With shining spices And flashing flavor Until we…

Rhyme time

April again….Napowrimo! This one is about time and it’s value Foundations Every waking moment is different and unique It will never come back and we can never peek Backwards and relive our time It runs quicksilver gone But always leaves it’s legacy It’s echo and it’s tone. We may lose every minute yes But each…

Arnold’s song, or total recall

How do you remember? Cast your mind far behind to the past. Is it taste, smell or touch Which one gives you a rush? Which one transports you through space and time? Recognition is fickle, And synapses crackle With altered results every go. Which version of truth Is the one you produce Is it the…

Physics and art: in memorium

The really weird thing is I can never remember The day you left us for good. When mum died the day was stamped in my memory I may as well write it in blood . But you, you with your quietness, you slipping away from your mind Where did you go? Or is the real…

thesauraus (aka: aka)

I cried today. it wasn’t bad nor was it good But I wasn’t sad. i was tired, bone weary, dipped, inert. exhausted, plain sleepy, wrung out, not alert. sonambulant, just dozy, fatigued and clapped out knackered and frazzled, my brain had checked out. if Inuit have zillions of words to mean ‘snow’ i wonder how…