So we were processed through grey Lancastrian streets, the banality of life continuing without any respect for our appalling secret. Ahead she lay, still, her gaunt body empty of fight, her skin like marble, her hair soft and brown. We crawled between desolate graves of lonely people, neglected, belonging to no-one, the snow still lying.…
Category: Verse
No Talking
Be glad of the gentle peace rather than the maelstrom of words –
My Secret River
Beneath the rolling, grassy hills Bathed in sunshine, washed with rain, Squeeze into the hidden cavern, Filled with darkness, steeped in pain. Descend through all-consuming sadness, Down through labyrinths of hurt, Where the whispering ghosts of madness Murder any radiant thoughts. At the bottom, lift the trapdoor Drop into the icy cold, There to find…
Night Time Darkness
In the confusion of the night When ghosts hide in every shadow And tears fall quietly from my lips And strength drains from my heart I am a frightened child in a world too far And too big, too unfair And too full of impossibility Where nobody and nothing Brings the answers or the happiness…
There
In a corner of a secret garden where the viscaria and and honeysuckle once bathed their beautiful, delicate flowers in the summer breeze,
Cut Here
Cut here Along the dotted lines Of emptiness Loneliness Deep hurt Deep into my child Cut it out And tear it into little pieces Before the anti-matter Strangles me Asphyxiates me Swallows me into nothingness
Unwrapping The World 