Invaders

Last night I dreamed of invaders
In the form of giant men
They claimed all we had as their own
Even our spirits
Which they dashed from the skies.

They had no souls
They could not even hate us
With their impassive faces
Like sightless machines
It was as if we did not exist to them.

Or perhaps we were just a fiction
As much as they were to us.

Cream Tea

The sunlight was warm and pouring
from the teapot; pale and golden.
The scudding clouds windswept and clotted
Puffs of creamy white broken free
from the scones and jam of sweet sunsets.

Layer cakes of memories, sweet and coloured
Eaten with a pleasure pain of overindulgence.
Butter love slippery in the mind
but dusted off like icing sugar and coconut
Crisp and clogging with the perfumed air of flowerbeds.

And the kiss of that brief moment of freedom
Crumbs from the plate and drips from the pot
lingers still like icing on the lips.

Green City - A poem for Earth Day

The green city
Tree filled and reaching for the sun
Drinking, absorbing; Living
A canopy full of vibrancy and colour
Noise and chatter
Song and spirit filled

The grey city
Glass and sheet metal reflecting the sun
Not absorbing; Dead
Rooftops full of dishes and aerials
Listening devices to capture noise and chatter
Dull and soulless

Nature's city
And the human city
Side by side, but apart
Twinned, but non-identical
One in harness with the Earth
The other attempting dominion

Time To Go

Thank you to Poetry 24 for publishing another of my poems Time to Go

This one also contains a link to hear me read it via Soundcloud.

Dues

This story was recently in the news. A hedge fund manager avoiding paying the proper train fares for a number of years to a tune of £42,000. When he was caught he quickly paid up in an out of court settlement, because he could afford to, and so avoided any public shame. I have written a poem about it below, but you can also hear me read it via Soundcloud.


He never paid his debt
Until the end
Until forced to accept
The dues he owed.

He did not fret
Over getting caught
Honour a concept
Not conceived
He just received
Without giving in return.

But he was relieved
Absolved of blame
And did not burn
In fires of public disdain
If he were poor
There he would remain.

But the rich forgive their own.

Light Up

Strike a light
Illuminate
And tell the tale to be

Light the match
Burn a fuse
And let the truth be seen

Set the flame
Beacons lit
The swans are taking wing

Illuminate
Light the match
For a nightingale sings

Honest Fool

A jester taking morning air
Tells a joke and cries
As clowns scrape off their makeup
The trick inside them dies.

Where Loki walks in hidden prints
And angels fear to tread
A sleight of hand shines through it all
To keep the hoaxers fed.

When honest lies grab every fool
And fling them far away
Then anyone can be a fool
If only for a day.