A poem about making a big change, and adjusting to the strange specifics of a new situation.
I sit, lie and lean, my eyes on the distant twilight. The landscape seems to breathe, the silhouettes rise and fall. Winter Hill stands there, loyally guarding my childhood. Closer to the West, Rivington Pike is there. Still there. Maybe I am, too. Maybe I'll never leave this place. I'm still ten years old. Happy, … Continue reading The West Pennine Moors
To turn off my gas hob, you have to turn it back past the high setting, then click it back to 0, so the valve closes. This reminds me of the last, sad, angry mess about in the bedsheets at the end of a stupid, silly thing. The roaring, soaring, crashing crescendo into a big … Continue reading Gas Hob
I whisper to this dandelion, Cradled in hands like dead spiders. My voice scratches the air, Etching into those weightless seeds Like a laser Carves hieroglyphics Into a grain of rice. I trust in these little parachute soldiers, The special forces brigade Of a small forest nation. I live in fear of the Easterly wind, … Continue reading Dandelion
I'm not qualified for space travel,And I’m not free to travel the world.Boxed in by responsibility,When really there's nothing in my way.I could sail to Saint LuciaIf I really wanted to. But I do want to. I want to drift alone at sea,Or in space.Alone with my thoughts and the cold,Blue and black. Surrounded byWaves … Continue reading Space Cadet (Going to St. Lucia)