Skip to content


August 25, 2016

our complexity rises to meet the complexity of the world,
where we can find the simplicity we have lost

we shatter slowly into splinters of the mirror we are holding,
and there find the chaotic mosaic of harmony

reflection is interior and exterior,
a matter of light,
an opening of windows and minds

just as there is no one explanation for everything,
there is no one solution for anything

where’s me fooking glasses?

August 24, 2016

here we are,
constantly arriving
in a world that we feel unprepared for,
that is not what we were promised before
(just yesterday, it was, just yesterday)

we have grown old, but not up
(where’s me fooking glasses?)
as we get led a merry dance
to the tune of the constancy of change
and the inevitability that
we must build our own equipment
to make the raft that will keep us afloat

we turn to the page,
to the picture,
to the song,
to light a way
across this turbulent ocean,
towards a curved, blurred horizon
everdistant, everpresent
and evermore

for Karen



August 21, 2016

to find a place
a peace of land
to find the time to be in

to find a life
one can understand
to find a space for being

what is the language that has the word that means
I’m so happy I could cry?

to find a place
a world where we
can find the time
for living

to find a life
like a melody
that cannot stop forgiving

what is the language that has the word that means
I’m so happy I could cry?


in the dark

August 12, 2016

we sit in the dark
spitting opinions into the world
in an attempt to find out who
is like us

we are part of the chorus of
screech and jeering
of polemic
because everybody knows that
everybody who has a different opinion
is stupid

how could you possibly not see
that you are misinformed, when
information piles onto information
in increasingly toxic mixtures
of data and arithmetic and
multi-faceted facts
apparently prove everything

when really they prove only
that the louder we get
the further away we are,
as we sit in the dark
spitting opinions into the world


August 12, 2016

a look of gentleness,
that brushes over things
and causes them to purr

presence of grace
that stills the mind
and tethers the yearning

that makes lies of numbers
and reaches through the ages
to meet at a point of delight

a silhouette of stars,
a hovering

quiet footfalls
that wander
where they wish

heart massage

August 8, 2016

there is a massaging of this heart
that is returning its suppleness,
making a little pool of
that the little stresses
of the day – like
organising eating and
doing business and
washing clothes –
can come to drink from,
long cool draughts of wonder
made by this gentle
massaging of a weary
but newly strong

seismology and fisheries

August 4, 2016

the slide from the centre to the periphery
was completed under the radar, via sleep

an ageless story, overwritten yet fresh
that cuddles up to the thrill of the
motions of the seismic needle of the heart

in the shudders and the stretches,
so we live incautiously and incompetently,
in messy, vital, glorious waves,
take our pounding in the surf,
come up for air
and head back out to the sea again


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.