Archive for October, 2019

what cats see

Posted: October 31, 2019 in poetry, Uncategorized
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they say cats can see things we cannot
can see beyond our vision of reality
and into a world beyond our own
what do they see when they
quickly look up, alert, ready for action
and we see nothing, nothing at all?
is it the ghosts of our
past, present and future
coming to check up on us?
or is it aliens from beyond our universe
invisible to our eyes but seen by cats
coming to observe how we live?
or is it something else, something we don’t
know about yet and maybe never will?
i believe cats see more than we do
understand more than we know
and take care of us in ways
we don’t know about
who knows what cats can see?
we can only speculate
and use our imagination to wonder why
they look and stare
when we see nothing

change

Posted: October 30, 2019 in poetry, Uncategorized
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they want change
but not this change
only change that suits them
fits with their view,
their opinion, their mindset
not change they don’t comprehend
don’t want to learn about
only change that’s easy
for them to understand
fed to them by people
who know how to gather a flock
and lead it on a merry dance
to oblivion


These are some short poems I wrote centred around taste and how we can misinterpret the things people say.

this atmosphere is turning bitter
his boss cried loudly
he looked around for a beer
but couldn’t see one
does he want me to
buy him a drink
he wondered

she said the evening was sweet
and then appeared confused
when he asked her
what flavour it was

there’s a salty taste in the air
the old fisherman exclaimed
so that’s where the salt is
but how do they get it
out of the air and
into a tub he wondered

it leaves a sour taste
in your throat
his mum said
how does she know
what it tastes like
if shes not eating it
he wondered

have you experienced umami
his friend asked
i haven’t seen that film yet
he replied

taste?

Posted: October 28, 2019 in poetry, Uncategorized
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he didn’t know taste
he didn’t know what
sweet & sour,
salty, bitter, umami
tasted like on his tongue
he tasted textures
smooth, coarse,
wet, dry,
hot, cold
they made the difference
but taste was all the same
everything he tasted
was the same
he ate to stay alive
not to decide if it
was one pinch of salt or two
that’s all food meant to him
a way of staying alive and
satisfying his hunger
taste? what’s that?


the headaches bring with them
a calming down of the senses
less stress, less anxiety
as my mind fights
to stay awake leaving
no energy to worry
about the things that
used to be important


what was life like
before the headaches
back in the stillness
of a hot July day
i remember thinking was
clearer, sharper, faster,
more focused, more…real
now things are…
cloudy, slow, blurry,
confusing sometimes
less important, less meaningful,
sapping all the energy i have
getting the washing up done
is an achievement someday’s
whereas before the headaches
it was five forgotten minutes
just like that hot day
in July is now…


I’m been experiencing headaches nearly every day since July. This and the subsequent poems over the next few days are centred around my experience of living with these headaches.

is this headache real
or am i imagining it
i’ve become so used to them
that it’s difficult
for me to remember
what it’s like to live
without a headache
or do i experience
life without a headache
but i don’t realise it
there’s the pain, the
sharp pain that shoots from
the centre of my brain
exploding through my skull
down my scalp and off my chin
confirming the headaches
are still there
a sharp reminder that
life at the moment
is far from normal


it is cold and dark
street lights struggle
to penetrate a mist
hovering above the road
i am warm, a burning fire
in a block of ice
one foot follows another
red hot rods of
pulsating energy made of
sinew, muscle, blood, life
creating a sense of togetherness
with the world
a feeling of being
at one with nature
mind and body as one
in effortless motion
allowing me to appreciate
the simple act of running
that is denied to so many

lost on the moors

Posted: October 21, 2019 in poetry, Uncategorized
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I was drunk on the moors
intoxicated from a relentless bleakness
hypnotised by an army of heather
I knew where I was but I was lost
browns and greens merged into one
becoming a hazy mist of nature
creeping over my boots, up my legs,
underneath my skin, into my blood
I feel unsteady from the fumes
am I going crazy alone on the moors
sucked into them, deeper and deeper
I know I must move away from here
I pull my feet out of the mud
and move towards the light