Category: Poetry

Like unwelcome spinach
screwed up on the edge of
hash browns and white toast
the seaweed hugs pebble
sandcastles long-sunken
and craters a day trip deep
whilst the fading spiky scent
of salted and Sarson’d chips
lures eager pre-alarm gulls
as loud as rest’s calling
before the trains of tinnies
sweep up and pour out
the next fresh and fried
squads of penny arcaders
leather skin tanners
coffee shop loungers
and their cyclical points
literally toward the horizon
they remark stops and turns
their cassette tapes gazing out
into rescaling wave and sky.

A see through balloon
of orange paper petals
bounces to Bea’s kicks.

Juliet spreads Lego
rocking Santa garms
glancing at the guest.

Super Mum, a natural,
scratch cooks lunch
with effortless ease.

Dad works daily tasks;
bins, shuttles, socks,
big hugs and baths.

Apollo arches his back
to the sight of bird feet
grazing glittering snow.

Logs on the fire crackle
as off limits Smarties
fill cheeky, joyful palms.

Stories encourage snores
welcoming a Cava pop
and rest into the night.

t-rex smiles stretch
as wide as fields roll
trees hiding the end
of sky’s clear promise
as scatterings crunch
crisps and tin cans
atop hills of long grass
fist pumps and beats

our lasagne of bicycle
pins down an old mat
of the long week’s tales
wounds drifted away
by the gentle breeze
creaking through woods
of joggers and dogs
walking pebbled paths

the calm and vital dusk
a brief but rich daydream
dims the weekend bliss
of colour and space
we soak to its final charge
that powers us through
each necessary plan
until the next clear stretch

– for Joe

I see the privilege of my shopping cart anxiety,

texting Rob to weigh up limited edition colourways.

I see how much cash goes down the drain

along with high percentage, highly priced dregs.

I see the importance of personal responsibility,

choosing the sofa over an illicit meet up in the park.

I see how much my Joe’s and Chris’ and Cat’s mean

to the normal, everyday functioning of my wellbeing.

I see however many hours you spend on Mario Kart,

your skills are nothing to a CPU favouring chance.

As red shells are projected through banana skin fields

I barely see my coffee table over an ever-growing gut.

I see on the morning news even the loudest provocateur

talking more sense than ministers in his headlights.

I see the value in having acknowledged your neighbours

when you’re all out of flour for your next sour dough loaf.

I see the glimmering sparks of a chemical reaction

at the utterance of a polite hello or smiles between strangers.

It’s all so clear now, our kindness and similarities

dancing it out in a long, stretched queue for junk.

I see we aren’t all quite looping a level playing field

in the rough, tired face of someone sat by the door.

I see the skeletons of trees hatch little buds of life

that grow green and shine by the warming, sunny day.

I see how nature’s got one up on all its guests,

its drama-less blue skies and sweet morning birdsong

gracing even the most built up, concrete paths.

I see a morning routine of showers and shaves

can provide focus through this great unknown

and it’s okay too to feel low and lost and longing.

I see if it will be a good day in the just woken greetings

of my partner I’ll laugh together with all day long

need to pick up or be picked up by from another dip.

I see the blessing of these three daily routes

in the empty backdrop of another Zoom call

not without merit but surely a clockwise crank

of a friend’s silence once ‘End Call’ is clicked.

I see my presumptions, my ignorance,

my self-centredness and selfishness

stewing in the stillness of another Netflix binge.

I see myself reduced to my early twenties self,

coasting through university seminars high,

feasting on books and record’s there’s space for

and how beneath my older face and greyer hair

away from adulthood and office pantomime detail

we’ve all still an essence that’s just well hid.

I see the word count, the minute hand,

the sun inching through the curtains,

the fridge magnets and taunting to-do’s,

the files, saves, posts and futile amends,

the dishwasher needing another emptying

and more thoughts rising to beguile the day.