a road

A road takes me into the mist,

I let myself be taken, riding,

Half asleep, half here, mostly away,

Somewhere near where I want to be,


Call my name,

Find me there in distance coming,

I feel the sun on my face, it bathes,

Soothes, caresses me, like memories,

Of long ago,

I wish I was a child, again,

But without knowing,

It’s peculiar this thing,

This adulating without wings,

With hooves that don’t fit,

And claws that take out your own eyes,

On the road, to there, we go,

Together but alone,

That’s our way, I wouldn’t have it any other…

Come, see this focal point,

Can you see it with me?

No, I…

Mist softens the suns harshness,

I can stare at its centre,

But still not comprehend,

Maybe that’s how she feels about me?

Look but don’t see, touch but don’t feel,

It is real, it is a fight, but I wouldn’t have it…

Any other way…

Fathom me summer cold, it is a change,

We grow with the season,

Become with the wisdom,

Given by each moment, each fiction,

I pen this side of it but the other, I am not so sure,

I am just a character, directed by, well, hope?

Maybe half way there, we travel, but far, so far,

We fly, thoughts, feelings, mercy these things,

They come and go, day in, day out,

It is still early in this, life but we are down the road,

This is it, no u-turns, no wrong turns, just turns,

We exchange, we fight, we learn,

We wade in the mist, keep our eyes on the road,

But still seem lost, it is a journey this thing,

A pleasantly awkward one,

Find me there…

goodbye and hello sea

…goodbye and hello sea…

I’ve come where I have gone, a long time ago,

Seems like yesterday of yesteryear, when I was but here,

Walking, dreaming of sleeping in better times,

This was – is – home, but never felt further,

Always I sought something, a far thing,

Either from fading childhood,

Or from an uncertain adulthood,

From there – here – I look, watch, what was over here,

These streets seem wider, emptier,

But filled with something else the eye can’t see,

I feel the memories like the history of ghosts,

I’ve died here before, in so many ways,

There are too many gaps here, like an unfinished artwork,

Too many incomplete strokes, too little emphasis,

But the newbies continue,

They drink from the same gutters,

Coloured differently: faded colours; changed signage,

It’s been something else, this place,

To me at least…

I’ve tasted relationships in an unhurried youth,

I served my time, watched from behind layers,

Boxed in my thoughts, I know that I fought,

For here I go now, like I never was here,

Here I turn my back like I never knew,

Anything like home, I can’t believe,

It’s been a beautiful journey, the winds have cried,

My words have flown,

My hands have touched,

My laughs have burst,

My imprint remains,

Always in my memories,

Gone for eternities…

the long white road

…the long white road pulls me,

An ogre hand of gravity,

I tilt like a withered petal,

My questions are upended…


…it sucks on my ink,

The journey leaves no prints,

But the white road demands more,

Death splatter off the shoulder…


…hazards abound, jaws rattle through the night,

The wick from a black candle,

Guides on the long white road,

Danger: endless bends…


…the road goes on and on,

All white and no shadows,

All life and no phantoms,

No: broken creatures are welcome…


…express through ritual,

Lost with no weather report, the clouds,

Hug my imagination chewing on engines,

Write through the long white road…


…enter and keep going,

There’s no traffic in a congested cupboard,

Full of skeletons: roadworks,

Detour, turn the page, to the next long white road…

The Struggle

A great mass of voices,

Connected in heart and mind,

Crying for free choices,

Why can’t they decide?

Gathered as one against state forces,

Leaders of the young fighting just causes,

Enemies in uniform, fathers killing children,

Is this why they are born?

Is this nation building?

The questions travel through time, line after line,

Why must I learn in your language when you don’t speak mine?

A chorus of God Save the Nation rises to the heavens,

Bullets sing through the air and create roses with perfect petals,

That drip to the dirt,

Mixing with the earth,

But never really quenching her thirst,

Black polished school shoes beat a cloud of dust,

Some hands hold dustbin lid shields, others throw stones,

Child soldiers with cloth face masks,

Acting without their parents, suddenly becoming old,

Through the teargas storm their path is paved with bones,

They reach for the future, for the future is theirs,

In their hands and in the shade of state capture,

What’s education when nobody cares?

Where are the leaders of iconic stature?

Imprisoned for years by oppressive expectations,

They will pay their own price,

When corruption, discrimination and inequality are inherited,

Who will seek good advice?

If it comes from the youth, then nobody is hearing it…

Mystery Market

Wearing the black of a sea traversing merchant,

I stand in a square with nothing but sums on my mind,

Beyond the spent fortunes of days as a servant,

One eye cast low and long for those riches men can’t hide,

My wares an assortment to enchant the purest beasts,

Of a grade to quench even the swelling thirsting of the earth,

From that place where the Moon’s Shadow sleeps,

Back to the sharpened edge of the unfinished dream I prefer,

Customers with strange customs oblige with desire,

Without which their manner would be most uncommon,

A need in any world comes full circle and never expires,

Just as life takes every drop of blood without ever stopping,

I offer them not only what they want but what their made for,

Something in the abstract a taste that leaves a quaking tingle,

Never a handshake or deep embrace while there is a world to explore,

A trade at fair price with the devil in the details,

A mark on the soul is a game target for the burning third eye,

When beating hearts clash with swords honour pales,

Blackened hammers with dull minds grace surely dies,

Quick fingers change destinies and flatter with humour,

A trick not acknowledged is still a lesson even far from the seas,

What you now have will eternally hold you in stupor,

What I now have you will one day beg for on your knees…



Oil pours from the eyes,

Sockets soggy with grief…


Butterflies in my head,

Their wings scrape my metal,


Something inside there…


Simply isn’t working,

Clogged with bad dreams,

Not sure what that means,


My will has surrendered,


It burns on my skin,

This desert sun emotion,

Mushrooms blooming from my armpits,

I’m half dancing backwards,


Smile with grey teeth,

Just a stone’s throw from home,


Black Mist Woods

The hood of my long cloak casts a shadow on my face,

My eyes down cast, staring at the ground as if wishing it away,

But the carpet of dead leaves, insect bones, and moist earth,

Are as real as the dreams I didn’t ask to be there,

This side of the world is mine by design,

I pray to it with silence and it hears me through the torment,

The paths from here are many, tangled and inviting,

In the same way that a ghost’s hand might be said to be welcoming,

I’m coming some time just give me one more chance,

The first step like crossing a starving chasm with a black hunger,

My still roots burn holes through hell,

I cannot leave until I understand the face of danger,

Looked upon it as if in anticipation of a noncommittal kiss,

But how am I to know what is so far from the why,

Forever will one day see me bleed through my bark,

Will it be here amongst others that would be like me,

Or will it be beyond these woods where misty entanglement leads,

I go against my very nature by allowing thoughts to wander,

They may never return,

Leaving me to be what I think I am,

But without them I can only feel I am,

Feel I am here,

And that is all that matters,

For even over there,

If I feel,

Then I know I’m still here…