Nothing More

I would appear
To be nothing more
Than a list
Of ailments
In frown lines
Yearning for slumber


A Quiet Moment

I’m at work this week after a week off last week, and it’s hard going! So I’m just going to post some lovely soothing wild flowers, and have a nice quiet moment 🙂




lost words

Words can be slippery, watch your step
Words can be slippery, watch your step
A photo I took 4-5 years ago in a town in Dorset of an inscription in the pavement.

lost words

of futility
lost words
stay lost

oh to pour out my soul
but wordless I wait

a hopeless task
seek instead


I am what I am
and what I am right now
is barely functional
woken by woodlouse
on my head 
shocked into

I have stumbled through the day
eyes dry and sore
dragging my aching limb 

but at least it was just a woodlouse
and not the sky falling in
as the roof flew off in the gales 
and the sodden plaster splattered my face
drenching my pillow 

at least it was not that
(though, heart racing, I felt it was)

woodlice feel quite damp
when landing on your skin

I should like to be a woodlouse
quietly pottering
no worries
or concerns
and if alarmed 
I’d curl up in a ball
quite safe

not falling

not falling
on anyone

that is not my wish

21st October 2014, non-fiction


consistently weary
persistently dreary
walking in a grey, drab world
muffled and gruffled
I continue snappily
less than happily
if I could clear this sleep-lack
if I could only find the knack
to sleep all night
without a break
without a wake
to shift my aches and pains
perhaps I’d get
my focus back
if I could find
the sleep I lack


these are the doubtful days
the self-critical days
the days where all is looked at
through magnifying lenses
and found wanting
where every word and action
is analysed and over-analysed
and I’m so busy analysing
that more words and actions
slip out of me unbidden
snippy, snappy, grumpy-face
and the loop repeats

and still you say you love me


I am here
but not here
in this world
full of people
and noise

I am here
but not here
among crowds

I am here
but not here
a puppet
to be human
yet vacant


my mood
is inversely proportional
to the amount
of time
I’ve spent awake
when I should
have been asleep
I’m tempted to draw a graph
though it’s unnecessary
no maths or science
are really required
just listen
to my voice
turned snappy and short
I am grumpiness
so I try
to be nice
and actually
by trying to be nice
I actually get nicer
and in the end
I shake off the grumps
and the line
on my graph
goes all wonky
and proves me wrong