On March 1st I made my break
After 9 months of my sentence
The conditions inside
had got real cramped
And I’d forgotten what
my offence was.
I was weak and small
For I had survived
On 2nd hand food and liquid
I gathered all my strength
And tunnelled out
Hoping to be emancipated.
How I bawled and I cried
when I realised
that my plan of escape had back fired
I wriggled and I moaned
But the truth, hard to own,
I was still trapped in a cage of bone.
Solitary I’m confined
In my personal gaol
Designed with a billion cells
I’ve lived in each one
Nearly 2 life sentences long
And I still don’t know what my offence is.
Friday, June 26, 2009
My mum
I grew within her
I was her, she was me
Between us, there were
never any boundaries.
I knew I was wanted
She gave me her heart
Undying love and protection
‘til death us do part.
Nurtured by her
In a billion ways
Reassured by her hugs
Warmed by her praise
Cakes and buns
She made for me
Joy in her eyes
My pleasure to see.
Each time I cried
Into the night
She was there by my side
Sharing my plight
Swallowing my pride
‘til I was ready for flight.
And as I fly away from her
I carry her with me
Always there in my heart
For which she holds a key.
I was her, she was me
Between us, there were
never any boundaries.
I knew I was wanted
She gave me her heart
Undying love and protection
‘til death us do part.
Nurtured by her
In a billion ways
Reassured by her hugs
Warmed by her praise
Cakes and buns
She made for me
Joy in her eyes
My pleasure to see.
Each time I cried
Into the night
She was there by my side
Sharing my plight
Swallowing my pride
‘til I was ready for flight.
And as I fly away from her
I carry her with me
Always there in my heart
For which she holds a key.
Friday, June 12, 2009
The Magpie
A magpie struts across our path
We capture him in a cage of glass
He never gave us a back stage pass
He watches us.
By his song and dance we are impressed
He seeks shiny things to line his nest
And for a while we all feel blessed
He entertains us.
Pretty birds with feathered breasts
Want to lie astride his chest
At night undress, by day confess
Gathering notes on a drunken mess
Indulging all things to excess
He abuses us.
Feeling pressure from our gaze
Each and every time he strays
And our growing demands to be amazed
He hates us, or so he says.
He fights to escape us.
His wings are broken in the fray
Amongst the dragons he’s dying to slay
He doesn’t want to come out and play
He refrains from us.
He flies away and hides with stealth
To a place where others like himself
Bask in golden rays of wealth
He’s escaped us.
Surrounded by the things he sought
Locked within a gilded fort
Lonely with only unpaid thoughts
Of all the things that can’t be bought
He forsakes us.
He feels he needs to find a mate
A lady bird to share his fate
What true lady would contemplate
Our magpie in his current state?
He blames us.
Captive he grew from minor to major
Fuelled by substances tasting of danger
behaviour becoming ever stranger
angels appearing to be his saviour
He reflects us.
One for sorrow
Two for joy
Three for a girl
Four for a boy
Five for silver
Six for gold
Seven UK Platinum records sold…
He decorates his skin with signs
With secrets to engage and rhyme
And looks for answers in the sky
For others that can also fly
Sacred or scared? He swallows twice.
Would he listen to their advice?
He considers us.
Older now, he bares the scars
Of a life sentence in clubs and bars
He wants to change but it is hard
C’est la vie, for many a bard
He avoids us.
He scrubs his cage til it is clean
Whilst searching the menu for love supreme
We ask ourselves what can this mean
Can nightmares transform into dreams?
He ignores us.
A few years pass and we are bored
We prefer our magpies fatally flawed
Then we clip their wings and remove their claws
Whilst claiming that we still adore
He needs us.
He’s found his one and he is home
Forgiving all from his crystal dome
Grateful for not being alone
magpies mate for life and never roam.
He accepts us.
His wings regrown are now unfurled
No cage strong enough in this world
he’ll sing and dance for joy on his perch so high
for finally he has a reason why.
He understands us.
Major Magpie. We salute you.
Author’s note:
Magpies are intelligent and challenging. Their long tail reflects their high status in the bird world. Magpies have presence. They demand attention visually and vocally. Their colour scheme is striking – black and white with a hint of green. They are cheeky and proud. They like company and often congregate together to discuss things (in so called Parliaments). They are often despised as they have been the victims of bad press claiming they are responsible for the demise of our smaller song birds. In my opinion if Robbie Williams was a bird he would be a Magpie. This poem was inspired by the connections between the two…by reading Chris Heath’s “Feel” and “Somebody Someday” and watching the Magpies in my garden.
We capture him in a cage of glass
He never gave us a back stage pass
He watches us.
By his song and dance we are impressed
He seeks shiny things to line his nest
And for a while we all feel blessed
He entertains us.
Pretty birds with feathered breasts
Want to lie astride his chest
At night undress, by day confess
Gathering notes on a drunken mess
Indulging all things to excess
He abuses us.
Feeling pressure from our gaze
Each and every time he strays
And our growing demands to be amazed
He hates us, or so he says.
He fights to escape us.
His wings are broken in the fray
Amongst the dragons he’s dying to slay
He doesn’t want to come out and play
He refrains from us.
He flies away and hides with stealth
To a place where others like himself
Bask in golden rays of wealth
He’s escaped us.
Surrounded by the things he sought
Locked within a gilded fort
Lonely with only unpaid thoughts
Of all the things that can’t be bought
He forsakes us.
He feels he needs to find a mate
A lady bird to share his fate
What true lady would contemplate
Our magpie in his current state?
He blames us.
Captive he grew from minor to major
Fuelled by substances tasting of danger
behaviour becoming ever stranger
angels appearing to be his saviour
He reflects us.
One for sorrow
Two for joy
Three for a girl
Four for a boy
Five for silver
Six for gold
Seven UK Platinum records sold…
He decorates his skin with signs
With secrets to engage and rhyme
And looks for answers in the sky
For others that can also fly
Sacred or scared? He swallows twice.
Would he listen to their advice?
He considers us.
Older now, he bares the scars
Of a life sentence in clubs and bars
He wants to change but it is hard
C’est la vie, for many a bard
He avoids us.
He scrubs his cage til it is clean
Whilst searching the menu for love supreme
We ask ourselves what can this mean
Can nightmares transform into dreams?
He ignores us.
A few years pass and we are bored
We prefer our magpies fatally flawed
Then we clip their wings and remove their claws
Whilst claiming that we still adore
He needs us.
He’s found his one and he is home
Forgiving all from his crystal dome
Grateful for not being alone
magpies mate for life and never roam.
He accepts us.
His wings regrown are now unfurled
No cage strong enough in this world
he’ll sing and dance for joy on his perch so high
for finally he has a reason why.
He understands us.
Major Magpie. We salute you.
Author’s note:
Magpies are intelligent and challenging. Their long tail reflects their high status in the bird world. Magpies have presence. They demand attention visually and vocally. Their colour scheme is striking – black and white with a hint of green. They are cheeky and proud. They like company and often congregate together to discuss things (in so called Parliaments). They are often despised as they have been the victims of bad press claiming they are responsible for the demise of our smaller song birds. In my opinion if Robbie Williams was a bird he would be a Magpie. This poem was inspired by the connections between the two…by reading Chris Heath’s “Feel” and “Somebody Someday” and watching the Magpies in my garden.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Perfect Partners
I.
I’m dew, grass
Clouds, sky
Sweat, brow
Tears, eye.
You.
You burn bright.
Sun, day
Stars, night
Illuminate
Cast light
Look, see
energy.
Reach my depth?
Hold your breath.
Beware!
Can’t breathe
there
(there)
Are you scared?
Calm,
Support you.
Raging,
thwart you.
Give you
life.
Take that
away.
Still want
to play?
Alone. Freeze,
shrink, solidify.
Chipped
bare scars,
Bold,
With hold.
Stay
to melt
me?
Stay
to face
the depths?
Have you
felt me?
May I drip?
November, I flood.
Resist the torrent?
Rest dammed,
restrained
by flames.
I’m dew, grass
Clouds, sky
Sweat, brow
Tears, eye.
You.
You burn bright.
Sun, day
Stars, night
Illuminate
Cast light
Look, see
energy.
Reach my depth?
Hold your breath.
Beware!
Can’t breathe
there
(there)
Are you scared?
Calm,
Support you.
Raging,
thwart you.
Give you
life.
Take that
away.
Still want
to play?
Alone. Freeze,
shrink, solidify.
Chipped
bare scars,
Bold,
With hold.
Stay
to melt
me?
Stay
to face
the depths?
Have you
felt me?
May I drip?
November, I flood.
Resist the torrent?
Rest dammed,
restrained
by flames.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Turning rocks again
The sea retreats
revealing so many treasures.
Pools glint and dazzle,
brighter than diamonds.
But these are priceless.
And in them real rocks.
The kind which hide things
too large for a finger.
But just the right size
for life to linger.
Monsters of the deep
sideways creep.
Here, things with hard shells,
easily broken,
not designed to fall from a height,
reside and abide
until the next high tide
and freedom.
A wise man named this place
for it bridges years.
And each time I turn another stone,
seeking something wondrous,
I return.
And I am there often,
enchanted by what lurks under stones.
revealing so many treasures.
Pools glint and dazzle,
brighter than diamonds.
But these are priceless.
And in them real rocks.
The kind which hide things
too large for a finger.
But just the right size
for life to linger.
Monsters of the deep
sideways creep.
Here, things with hard shells,
easily broken,
not designed to fall from a height,
reside and abide
until the next high tide
and freedom.
A wise man named this place
for it bridges years.
And each time I turn another stone,
seeking something wondrous,
I return.
And I am there often,
enchanted by what lurks under stones.
My Invisible Lover
Some days he visits me and he is so tender.
His lips and fingers brush mine softly.
Caressing, lingering, playing with my hair.
And I long to stay, to be endlessly touched this way.
But his voice whispers “It’s time to go”,
As he blows me one last kiss.
Some nights he returns late.
He batters my windows and doors.
Angry. Demanding to be let in.
I hide while he rages outside.
Threatening to break my windows,
Destroy the walls, or take off the roof
In his desire to embrace me.
Bored with his progress, I hear him leave.
Seeking another conquest?
I sigh as I realise
He still lies by my side.
Still now. Still with me.
Sleeping, soundly and soundless,
And I wonder how he will move me tomorrow.
His lips and fingers brush mine softly.
Caressing, lingering, playing with my hair.
And I long to stay, to be endlessly touched this way.
But his voice whispers “It’s time to go”,
As he blows me one last kiss.
Some nights he returns late.
He batters my windows and doors.
Angry. Demanding to be let in.
I hide while he rages outside.
Threatening to break my windows,
Destroy the walls, or take off the roof
In his desire to embrace me.
Bored with his progress, I hear him leave.
Seeking another conquest?
I sigh as I realise
He still lies by my side.
Still now. Still with me.
Sleeping, soundly and soundless,
And I wonder how he will move me tomorrow.
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