Harsh realities crash in
And like bitter memories do
They change us
Maybe even remove
Any sense of sensibility
And we find ourselves
In empty shopping malls
Searching for toilet paper
And pasta that isn’t wholegrain.
Panicked and broken
We return to our homes
Switch on the radio or tv
And listen to the latest news –
How many have succumbed
How many new cases
When will toilet paper
Be back on the shelves.
Maybe some of us
Reread Tolkien’s
Lord of the Rings
Or all of our Harry Potter novels
While we snack on chocolate
Left over from Christmas
And drink tea
Flavoured with honey
And play board games
And wonder if things
Will ever be the same.
Across a Surreal landscape
White defeats the green
Black naked branches
Reach towards low slung clouds
As snow flurries lash
Exposed skin on cheerful faces
We shelter in each other’s warmth
And conversations of sunshine
Promoted by
Wine, good gin and pizza.
I cast my mind about Searching for just one Peaceful memory One image to still A consciousness in turmoil. Befuddled thoughts of anger arise Failed friendships revived Lost loves sought Missed opportunities revisited All conspire to withhold rest. Like a fish bone Stuck in my throat At Friday night dinner I am unable to swallow. To clear the way I twist sheets And toss my pillow. Finally darkness takes me Into troubled sleep Only to be disturbed moments later By a relentless alarm
Bury me softly In words of love Sweet caresses And butterfly kisses Hold me gently In arms as tender As angels wings And soft summer breezes See me openly With your eyes so deep Look into the very depths Of my aching soul Remember me In carefree dreams And quiet coffee breaks In seaside cafes Bury me in memories Away from the ravages Of the thief We know as time
Hidden behind backyard deals
And covered with words
The whisper of truth
Is seldom spoken aloud
And while his land burned
And he worshipped his false gods
It was his people who stood
In sackcloth and ashes
Once a man of promise
Indeed of many promises
He failed to deliver
And so lost our trust
Can trust be restored
Do words still hold value
Once they have been used
In lies and deception
The murmur is building
Maybe the whisper
Once buried in rhetoric
Is to be shouted at last
As we the people
Speak for this land and its inhabitants
And demand more
Than just ashes and promises
