Confusion bursts in uninvited

Grins and looks on, quite delighted

As calamity’s ignited.

Such a troublemaker!


“You” I shout “are quite deluded!

You should not have been included!

There was peace’ til you intruded!”

Such a troublemaker!


“No, that’s wrong” replies the creature

“I came here to help you reach a

State in which more crises feature!”

Such a troublemaker!


Help like that – I’d rather leave it.

What a web of lies – you weave it!

There’s no way I can believe it!

Such a troublemaker!


Confusion laughed and wagged a finger!

“Want to hear the real stinger?

You were bored! You made me linger!

You’re the troublemaker!”

The Long Road

The road’s so long

And punctuated with traffic lights.

Just once, I’d love to sail straight through,

Unhindered in my flow.

But no!

Red lights beset me every chance they get.

Still, each stop gives me a chance to think;

Not needing to worry about gears or hazards,

Just watching the lights for my chance to move

And thinking up poems.

Like this.

Lost and Found

These are not my words!

I found them as I walked

Along the rippled sand,

Where other tongues had dropped them.

I press them to my will.

But how they squirm and struggle,

Resisting all my efforts

To get them to lie still.

These are not my thoughts!

I found them as I woke,

Unknowing, from a dream.

I hadn’t called them down here.

They slipped in as I lay.

My mind wants to reject them.

They clamp their jaws upon me

And can’t be dragged away.

This is not my life!

I found this one abandoned.

The life that’s meant for me

Won’t let me track it down.

I know it was replaced;

I’ve no idea who did it.

I’ll use the one I found

So it won’t go to waste.

Ninety-six Faces

On 15th April 1989, thousands of excited football fans went to watch their teams play.  Ninety-six of them were killed in the worst football-related disaster the UK has ever seen.  After twenty-five years of public slurs by people in positions of trust, the ninety-six Liverpool fans who never came home are drawing closer to justice after the opening of fresh inquests.  You’ll never walk alone.


Face after face after face;

Ninety-six lives cut short.

Snippets of your stories,

Told to a silent court.

Your hopes, your dreams, your wishes,

What you mean to those left behind.

Trying to catch your essence;

Impossible words to find.


Life after life after life,

Stolen without a warning.

Parents, siblings, friends,

Burdened with permanent mourning.

Ninety-six empty seats;

Reminders of futures broken.

Names above a flame:

Icons of words unspoken.


Year after year after year;

Families forced to fight.

Struggle to reach that justice

That was always yours by right.

To banish every page

Where foul lies are found.

To shine a light upon those lives

Lost on Hillsborough’s ground.

Pairing Poem

Treading water.

Holding breath.

Fighting fires.

Facing death.

Asking nothing.

Getting less.

Taking chances.

Saying yes.

Running faster.

Tiring out.

Spreading rumours.

Sowing doubt.

Trying harder.

Failing more.

Losing battles.

Waging war.

Solving problems.

Making friends.

Finding purpose.

Joining ends.

Breaking contracts.

Meeting strife.

Causing trouble.

Living life.


Sometime soon, the song will end.

Then we’ll find the silence.

No more lines, no tune, no tempo,

Just a floating silence.

Please be glad the words were broken,

That was half their beauty.

You may miss their imperfection

When you hear the silence.


Long ago the song was growing,

From an ancient silence.

Like a plant that’s free and fertile,

Soon it filled the silence.

When its notes were soaring skyward

All our ears were open.

So we danced with joy and laughter

As we lost the silence.


But the song grew more discordant

As it lost the silence.

Soon no pause could break the turmoil

Left in place of silence.

Though we loved the notes we added

Harmony escaped us.

Now we need to calm the clamour.

Give us back the silence.

The Mime of the Trees

Tree in the WindWhen the night gets lighter,

And day does overtime,

The trees begin to primp and preen

And bend their boughs to mime

The story of the winter,

Of challenges they met.

Forgive the trees their boastful ways!

You owe them all a debt.


The trees are nature’s filter.

They clean the crowded ark.

Their struggle drawn on every leaf,

Proclaimed in twisted bark.

You fear that they’ll neglect you

As you neglect the soil,

But they will bind their suff’ring roots

To Earth’s immortal coil.


And so, she sat and watched the world

Crawling by.

On every face a flag unfurled,

Declaring an inner state;

Making liars of Donne.

They hover,

Protecting their bubble,

But not knowing why.

In place of stillness

Dark feelings lie, coiled

But reluctant.

Above their heads a hundred windows glint

But not reflecting.

At the top of the hill

Every man is an island.

A Mother’s Advice

Never leave the milk out.

Always warm the pot.

Before you do the shopping

Check what you have got.

Never sleep in make-up.

That’ll clog your pores!

Brush your teeth before you sleep.

Always lock your doors.

Do the things you have to

Before the things you want.

Always tell yourself “I can”’

Never think “I can’t!”

Never waste your money

When it’s flowing free.

You never know how difficult

Finding more could be!

Never be uncaring!

Always aim for kind.

Words can be like weapons

They can harm a person’s mind.

Never change who you are

For other people’s sakes.

Don’t waste time on idiots.

Learn from your mistakes.

Don’t let struggles drag you down.

Be who you want to be.

Whatever else goes wrong in life,

Don’t grow up like me.


Let me invite you to play in my mind,

To peer through the books and the boxes you find.

But may I request that you leave them behind

And turn the lights off when you leave?


Let me invite you to play in my head,

To hear all the words that I’ve ever heard said.

But don’t throw my thoughts out and leave yours instead

And turn the lights off when you leave.


Let me invite you to play in my dreams,

To float through my consciousness, follow its streams.

But know that it’s not always quite how it seems

And turn the lights off when you leave.


Let me invite you to play in my fear,

To watch as the shades of my terror appear.

But don’t tell a soul of the things you might hear

And leave the lights on when you leave.