Flipside

31/08/2020 –  Poem a Day Compilation



When I was young

I’d sit by my grandfather’s feet

Listening to records

Playing on the turntable.



He had a really old one,

You had to flip the record yourself

And place the needle carefully

So it wouldn’t scratch.



We’d listen to the classics

Music he’d grown up loving

And I knew all the words

Even though they were well before my time.



He’d say, “Flip it over, kid”

And I’d jump up from the floor.

Then, he’d smile.

He didn’t do that often.



I’d take the needle off

And carefully lift the record

Turning it on one motion

In the blink of an eye.



After I’d set the B side playing

He’d watch me dance to the old songs

Reminiscing about his dance hall days

But I couldn’t imagine him dancing, then.



I still listen to music every day

But it’s not the same unless it’s on vinyl.

To hear the crackle and the noise,

That’s what my heart remembers.



“Music isn’t meant to be perfect,”

My grandfather told me one day,

“It’s meant to sound lived in,

Just like hearing it in the flesh.”



I didn’t know what he meant that day,

And I wouldn’t for a very long time.

He saw me grow and find my own music

And we shared it on that old turntable.



Every year, under the Christmas tree,

A flat, square present waited to be unwrapped

By a child, a teenager, a young woman

And, finally, a mother of rambunctious boys.



But as I sat at his funeral all those years later

Hearing the music they’d chosen for him

It finally made all the sense in the world to me.

It was all too perfect.



Ave Maria carried effortlessly

Across the room as if sung by angels,

And tears rolled down the cheeks

Of relatives and family friends.



But it wasn’t until I heard the hum

Of that old record player

And Vera Lynn’s voice rang out

As if standing before us all.



    “We’ll meet again,

    Don’t know where, don’t know when,

    But I’m sure we’ll meet again

    Some sunny day.”



My chin trembled,

My eyes welled up,

I caught my breath

And felt him there.



That lived in sound filled my ears,

And swept over my heart

And his last words came back to me,

“See you on the flipside, kid.”

Listen Up

30/08/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



Listen to the taps of keys

As I write into the wee small hours

And you are sure to hear a tale

Told from a heartfelt place.



I could not shout these words as loud

As I can through this keyboard lit

By one small lamp beside my bed

Calling to the world beyond.



There is no rhyme or reason here,

Just words upon words, layered high,

Oozing from my fingers down telephone lines

To destinations far and wide.



They are soaked up by eager eyes

In distant lands with foreign tastes

Who will never know me as I am

But only as I seem to be.



What creation I might fabricate

As stars distract me from my work,

Alien light shining from afar

To spark a notion in my mind.



And as I listen to silent stars

Their energy burns through the page

Reaching a hand out into the void

And making contact with what it finds.



Where these words were born, I know not

Yet some fester where I find them

While others grow and creep and shine

Reflecting my injured soul back at me.



The tendrils wrap around my heart

Squeezing experiences from my breast

That burst to life like Sweet Alyssum

Drawing me in as with no other.



And so I am, locked in this dance,

Feverishly spewing out syllables

In some vain hope they make some sense

To more than just my troubled mind.



Then, when those lines have flown the coop,

I shall be absorbed in darkness new

To devour words, to feed the light

and listen to the taps of keys once more.

Do Not Cry

29/08/2020 –  Poem a Day Compilation



Do not cry, my sweet,

I cannot stand your tears.

They sting like nettles overgrown

And cut a thousand times as deep.



I long to dry your eyes, my love,

But how do I stop the rain from falling?

There’s no magic in these hands

And my words can cast no spells.



If I could take away your pain, my dear,

Scrunch it up into a little ball

And throw it into the fiery pits of hell,

I would not hesitate at all.



There is nothing I wouldn’t do, my precious,

To ease your hurting heart,

To give it back it’s vigour

And return to you your soul.



Because with every tear you shed, my beloved,

When you lay your head on my shoulder

I feel your heart break afresh

And I know there’s nothing I can do.

Sarcasm

28/08/2020 - Poem a Day Compilation



Please forgive me my sarcastic nature,

It is the only other language

In which I am fully fluent

And I’d hate for it to go to waste.



The look on your face when you’re not sure

If I am being sarcastic or not

Is quite exquisite in its deliciousness

Until the realisation dawns.



I do try so very hard, mostly,

Not to overdo it in company

But it does tend to slip out

At incredibly inappropriate moments.



Like that time when your darling brother

Dropped the drinks over the table

And I couldn’t help but say,

“I think you missed a spot.”



He was very annoyed,

I don’t think he’s forgiven me yet

But that’s ok,

I’m sure he’ll get over it.



Some people think I’m unintentionally rude

And that they need to quietly admonish me:

I have set them straight with the fact

That I completely intended the insult.



I can always pick the pop-psychologists

When they describe my dark, dry wit

As hostility disguised as humour

When it’s obviously dripping with sarcasm.



If you cannot abide my very occasional snark

Then I am happy to show you the door,

Though the number of times you’ve left

I’m sure you know where it is.

You Are Wrong

27/08/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



You are wrong in every conceivable way.

I cannot begin to fathom how wrong

It is possible for one person to be,

Yet here we are.



When we met, I didn’t realise

How ideologically opposed we were

Because you camouflaged your true identity

To ingratiate yourself.



Maybe I missed all the warning signs

And wanted to see the best in you –

I’d set the bar so low without knowing

And the likes of you slipped through.



I’m sorry to say it took me too long

To call you out on your bigotry

And when I did it felt so good

And you took it so very badly.



You reacted like the child you are,

Throwing your proverbial toys from the pram,

And I was one of those toys your tossed

But you’re not getting me back.



You’ve made your bed to lie in

By choosing division over acceptance,

Your compassion chip not functioning

Nor your humanity interface.



I hope, one day, you’ll see the light

But I won’t hold my breath and wait.

I don’t ever want to hear your voice

And I won’t answer the phone when you call.



I don’t understand how you can’t see

That we are all just human beings

Trying to survive this thing called life

And our differences are miniscule.



The colour of my skin doesn’t matter,

It won’t change whether I’m kind or mean,

Unless you make it an obstacle to overcome

When it never was for me.



The language that comes from my mouth

Has no bearing on my intelligence

Though I marvel at those among us

Who can converse in many tongues.



What greater gift than diversity

May be bestowed upon our land?

The melting pot includes us all

And we should treasure every soul.



Your hatred burns inside your heart

And grinds your thoughts to dust;

But your vitriol will never reach my ears

Now that you have been cast aside.

Perfection

26/08/2020 - Poem a Day Compilation



I am perfection.

I am perfectly perfect

At perfecting the art

Of being a perfectionist.

Moonlight

25/08/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



Do you ever just want to dance

Shrouded in pale moonlight,

Ethereal, otherworldly, and magical,

And free from all that binds?



I wish I could close my eyes,

Covered by hands like butterfly wings,

Blocking out the rest of the world

With all of its harsh reality.



There’s value in holding on tight

To the fantasy of imagination

Where everything impossible is possible

As long as you think it to be.



Slaves could rule over masters,

The hungry could feast on the rich.

Animals could speak words of wisdom

And the planets could all align.



Humankind will always be disparate,

Unequal in power and might,

Bosses lauding control

As kings did over the serfs.



Wealth tears societies apart

With the haves and the have nots,

Imbalance creates a vicious cycle

That keeps the poor in their place.



We tune out the voices we don’t understand

And miss the signs that all around us.

The plants and animals could teach so much

If only we opened our ears.



It seems that we’d much rather have faith

In the sorcery of times gone by

When the seemingly supernatural

Could not yet be explained by likes of us.



Smoke might transform into diamonds,

The sea might give birth to the mountains,

Dragons might sleep on hearth rugs

And moonlight might be as bright as the sun.



But smoke wafts away on the breeze,

No riches left here for me to find.

The lingering odour feeding memories

Of something that may never have occurred.



While the sea roars and rushes

It tears down the land it surrounds,

Eroding the foundation of my existence

As it gorges on all that it sees.



No great wings beat over my head

And my ankles remain unscorched,

With no scales shed in the carpet

And no way to vanquish my foes.



But the moonlight dances on the water

And plays funny tricks on my eyes,

The white sea horses frolic gayly,

Glinting and shimmering and free.

Potential Energy

24/08/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



There is a concept in science

That relates to the energy possessed

By a body by virtue to its location

Relative to that of others.



A common example can be seen

When a child is on a swing,

Being pushed by their doting parent

Without a thought for the forces at work.



The potential energy is shown

At the very top of the swing,

Just before making its descent

And transforming into the kinetic kind.



The same can be said of writers

When they have an idea form in their head

That is the top of their swing

Before the release of the writing phrase.



So, writers, don’t be afraid

If you get told that you have potential.

This means that all of that energy

Is ready to be unleashed on the world.

Living an Imaginary Life

23/08/2020 –  Poem a Day Compilation



Sometimes I feel like an actor

Performing in the production of my life

Reading from a script not my own making

And speaking words I have not authored.



I worry that someone will notice

That I’m not really meant to be here

And call me out as the impostor

That I know I probably am.



I struggle against the darkness

That surrounds my innermost thoughts

Encroaching upon and invading me

No matter how I resist.



I stand upon a stage

But the audience is not there,

Shrouded in the shadows

While the spotlight shines on me.



It burns through my skin

Attacking the very heart of me

Breaking me unimaginably

As I deliver unrehearsed lines.



My monologue is delivered

To a barely responsive crew

As they carry on with their own lives

Not regarding me here at all.



There will be no glowing review of this,

No roses thrown at my feet;

There will be no standing ovation

Or fans waiting by the stage door.



I tread the boards alone tonight

And every night before.

Imagining what it must be like

To feel that warm feedback.



But all I get it coldness

As the curtain slowly falls,

Never to be raised again,

No encore, just no more.

Queen

22/08/2020 - Poem a Day Compilation



There are lots of Queens I could talk about

Who have books dedicated to their name

But my absolutely favourite Queen

Plays a far more entertaining game.



This Queen’s name is Randy,

Randy Rainbow to be exact,

And if that name doesn’t bring you joy

I’m sorry for the fun your life has lacked.



He delights us with witticisms

And sings like a bird possessed,

Casting a satirical eye over politics,

And we are truly blessed.



So, next time you’re feeling down

And it’s like the world’s gone to hell

Just listen to one of his songs

And fall under his spell.

The Crazy Cat Lady

21/08/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



You could smell her before you saw her

A powerfully pungent odour

Wafting into unsuspecting nostrils

And watering unfamiliar eyes.



As she approached, you’d see her face –

Wrinkled and worn by the years –

Smiling like the cat that got the cream

As she made her way home from the shops.



Her garden was a little neglected,

The lawn could have done with a mow,

The paint was peeling from window frames

And the pavers had seen better days.



She’d turn the key and scurry inside

Like a cat on a hot tin roof

Being careful not to drop the bag

Her babies eagerly awaited.



Her kitchen was meagrely supplied

Save the tins she bought from the store

Which spilled out of cupboards everywhere

Though no one seemed to mind.



Everyone wondered what it was like inside

Though no one dared to approach.

You know what curiosity did to the cat

And the smell would do more than that.



At first nobody noticed

She was prone to not being seen

Sometimes for a few days at a time

Holed up in that forlorn-looking house.



It had become like a cat and mouse game

For the children of the local area

Trying to be the first on the street

To catch a glimpse of the maid.



But this time there was something different,

She had not been seen for too long

The children started to ponder

If it were safe to venture closer.



Their parents thought their silence strange

When they returned suddenly home

“Cat got your tongue?” one asked quizzically,

To the horror of the son stood before them.



A story of some horror unfolded,

Spewing from his mouth in bursts,

About a sight that would haunt him

Until the day that he died.



He let the cat out of the bag,

Told his parents all that he saw,

And the paramedics who attended

Confirmed the sad tale to be true.



The old woman had passed in her sleep,

Her body had lain for some days,

And the babies she kept as companions

Had done what comes naturally to them.



So, look in on your elderly neighbours

And make sure that they are alright,

At least for the sake of the children

And the dignity of your crazy cat friends.

The Architect

20/08/2020 –  Poem a Day Compilation



I’ve always wanted to be an architect,

Ever since I was a little child,

But circumstances conspired against me

And I chose a different path.



I wish I could go back

And offer my teenage self advice

To follow your heart

Instead of what you feel obliged to do.



I would have told myself to work harder

Because it’s something I’ve come to regret

And now it feels impossible

To reach for that dream again.

Life Didn’t Go as Planned

19/08/2020 - Poem a Day Compilation



Life never goes exactly to plan

And that’s okay.

Learning to accept that

Is a big part of being

In this crazy mixed up place

We call existence.



Friendships form and break down

Filled with love and heartache

Laughter and tears and loneliness

And all the other ups and downs

That go along with sharing this space

With other members of the human race



Games are won and lost

Trophies gather dust in boxes

And participation certificates

Lay discarded in forgotten draws

At parent’s houses until they pass

And you accidently rediscover them.



Jobs have their raises and promotions,

As well redundancies and resignations

And the call into the boss’ office

To be fired, for something so often

Completely beyond your control

And that knocks you for six.



One day we’ll look back

On all the events that have made us

Hoping that not too many have broken us

And maybe relive those monumental things

That tore our world into a million pieces

Or fell gloriously into place just for us.



Because one day we’ll run out of days,

We’ll use up all those days and months

And the years will be behind us,

And what we made of this miracle

Will define our entire universe

And how we made it through, unplanned.

First Car Vibes

18/08/2020 - Poem a Day Compilation 



My Grandmother bought me my first car

So she could see me spend my inheritance.

It was a little red hatchback

And I loved that little car.



I learnt to drive on it at eighteen

In a local industrial area on weekends

Parking between B-doubles and tankers,

And practicing emergency stops.



I drove it all over the country

From city lanes to interstate highways,

Dirt tracks to cobbled streets

And everything in between.



I ate in it often,

Slept in it occasionally,

Worked from it

And definitely played in it.



Eventually I moved on to another car,

Bigger, better, more powerful

And more in tune with where I was

But I’ll never forget Little Red as long as I live.

Not a Doctor

17/08/2020 –  Poem a Day Compilation



I am not a doctor.

I would never say I am.

So how do so many others

Get away with such a scam?

The Clipboard Warriors

16/08/2020 –  Poem a Day Compilation



We’ve all be accosted at some point

By those overly friendly people

Happy to take up your time

With what we know are worthwhile causes.



But if you’re anything like me

You’ll not have the time to engage

Or have already given more than you should

To their charity or organisation.



So, we’ll employ those little tricks

Just to make it through the throng

Of clipboards, pamphlets and iPads

And the occasional furry koala.



“Hi, mum,” you’ll say quite loudly

Into a phone that’s not even on,

“No, I haven’t got a date for John’s wedding”

As you eye roll and continue to walk.



If you’re voice acting isn’t so good,

Usually a mime is more than enough,

An exaggerated tap of your watch

And an overly apologetic stare.



Sometimes they manage to catch you

As you’re standing at the pedestrian crossing

But never fear their approach

When you’ve got this trick up your sleeve.



“OMG, you wouldn’t believe it!”

You say, a little too enthusiastically,

“I’ve just signed up to monthly

Direct debit payments with you.”



They’ll be so thrilled to hear this,

And you can always add the line,

“I wouldn’t want to take up your time When there’s so many others you could ask.”

Lustre

15/08/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



I thought that life had lost its lustre

That it was only full of greys

I felt the storm clouds overhead

And wept outside while it rained



I’d held your hand in waiting rooms

Driven you home with tears in my eyes

I’d mourned you every time you slept

And rejoiced in every waking hour



I scheduled appointments all over the city

Tried to find that one thing that worked

Even if it wasn’t a cure

Maybe it would buy us more time



Then one day you stood by the door

And smiled so completely serenely

You didn’t want to go see the doctor

Not this one or anyone else



The sun streamed in through the window

Giving you an angelic glow

And all I could do was surrender

Even though it meant letting go



We walked to the park instead

And sat by the pond on a bench

Other children fed ducks by the waters edge

And you rested your head on my chest



You drifted off into dreamland

Where you’d run and play as you should

And I knew that I would never wake you

Or hold you again as I did



I carried you back to your bed

A soft afternoon glow filled the room

Outside the birds were a-twittering

And my heart swelled with love for you



I called the ambulance quietly

My voice trembling as I spoke

And though you wouldn’t have heard me

I didn’t want you to know



I held your hand all the way

Because you were my little girl

My love, my world and my everything

And I couldn’t leave you all alone



Then the nurse said that it was time

But who would hold my hand

Now you were finally resting

And I was on my own?

Backseat Driver

14/08/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



Do you know where you’re going?

    Yes, I’ve driven there lots.

But do you know the quickest way?

    I’m going the easiest way.



Don’t forget there’s that speed camera.

    Which one?

The one after that bend. You know.

    OK.



Slow down, you trying to kill us?

    It’s a 70 zone, I’m doing 68.

Red light. Red light! RED LIGHT!

    Mate, it’s a hundred metres away.



Can you put Britney on?

    My car, my tunes.

I can Bluetooth it.

    You’re not pairing to my car.



You’re going the wrong way.

    No, I’m not.

You should have turned there.

    I know where I’m going.



I need to go to the toilet.

    Why didn’t you go before we left?

I didn’t need to go then.

    How old are you? Like three?



It’s easier if you take the motorway.

    I know, that’s why I’m going that way.

You need to speed up.

    You know there’s a limit, right?



Watch that truck.

    What truck?

The one over there.

    You mean in the breakdown bay?



I thought it was going to pull out.

    It didn’t even have the engine on.

Still, you never know.

    Mate, it’s fine.



Are we nearly there?

    I thought you knew the way?

But I’m hungry.

    You’ll just have to wait.



Can we change the radio station?

    No, I like this music.

But Metallica sucks.

    Get out!

Passing the Church

13/08/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation

Passing the church

For the first time

Since making the decision

To tell my parents

I didn’t believe

Was overwhelming.



Of course,

There were tears,

And bargaining,

And threats

Of eternal damnation

That just didn’t fly.



Each time, though,

It gets easier

To not feel the pull

And I can admire

The architecture

For what it is.



I know they’re inside

Exalting a deity

They cannot see

Or hear or feel

Except through words

Written long ago.



They’re praying for me

To see the light

That they imagine

But I refuse to be blinded

By an ancient myth

Superseded by knowledge.

Trapped

12/08/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



I am trapped.

Caught between

Obligation and

A freedom that

Seems to be

Just out of reach.



I am cornered

By a family

Who loves me

For who they think

I am but not who

I am on the inside.



I am besieged

By emotions I

Shouldn’t have to fight

But cannot quell

And leave me

Bereft of strength.



I am stranded

And alone

In this world

Of make believe

That I have discarded

As a folly of youth.



I am held hostage

By beliefs not my own

But foisted upon me

By generations

Of unquestioning

Devotion.

The Marathon Runner

11/08/2020 –  Poem a Day Compilation



You may not have heard of this man

Named Ricardo Abad Martinez

Who has a passion for running

And does it whenever he can.



His most famous feat,

As opposed to his feet of equal fame,

Was running a marathon every day

For over eighteen months straight.



Beginning on October 1

In the year of 2010,

He held down a full-time job

While running 42k's every day.



On February 12, 2012

He reached a remarkable milestone:

500 marathons run

Over 500 consecutive days.



But he wasn’t done there.

He continued on for over three months,

Completing a record of 607

Which proudly stands to this day.



So, as you enjoy your sleep in,

Or laze about on the couch

There’s a man who’d run rings around you

Every day of the week without pause.

The Criminal Mind

10/08/2020 –  Poem a Day Compilation



When I looked in the mirror

I didn’t see a criminal.

I saw only my own features

Staring back at me.



I saw no evil lurking behind those eyes

There was no maliciousness

Or intent towards harm.

They were just my eyes.



As a child I had thrilled at the thought

Of living close to the edge.

Spear fishing and free climbing

Were amongst my favourite things.



I had no time for people my age,

They were immature and,

If I was perfectly honest,

Beneath me and my endeavours.



In sports, I excelled and took great pride

In the defeat of others,

Their disappointment, even their tears,

As I reigned victorious fed me.



Possession meant nothing to me

And even less the possession of others,

What was yours was mine

And save your whiney complaints.



It wasn’t my fault that you failed

At keeping what you obviously valued

But it was clearly better that I had it

When you couldn’t take care of it.



As I grew and was allowed more freedom

From my overly affectionate parents

Who clung to me like limpets

Craving my attention, always.



The rush as the train swept by the station,

My toes and face mere inches away,

Made my heart race like nothing else

And I longed to relive that sensation.



Learning to drive, I had no time for others,

Their need to merge or desire to overtake.

They were at my mercy and I had none.

They were weak and I was not.



When I went to university,

Women threw themselves at me.

I had them all and then some,

They didn’t need to say a word.



They gave me what I wanted

And even when they didn’t

I took that to which I was entitled

They thanked me for that gift.



But I had no time for them

Or their interminable needs,

I had a world to conquer

And they simply slowed me down.



I heard what people said of me,

They couldn’t help themselves.

Of course, they had to make up stories

To make themselves feel better.



They all knew that I was smarter,

That they’d be begging for my time

When I flying high above them –

They’d pay to scrape dirt from my shoe.



The police that first spoke to me

Knew what I was saying was true

But the system was stacked against me

Because it was afraid of my potential.



Those women used their bodies against me,

Claiming they didn’t give their consent.

I simply took what was on offer,

I’m not responsible for their buyer’s remorse.



I watched them each day from the dock,

Wanting to shut their filthy mouths,

And I imagined how I would show them

Who was really in charge.



The jury took less than an hour

And I knew as soon as I saw,

The bitches had gotten their way

By spinning their tale of woe. 

I had jumped the rail before they realised

And had my hand around the foreman’s neck

Whispering all the things I was going to do

That I knew his wife wouldn’t be able to resist.



I was in every headline.

I was the star of the show.

I was the master of my own destiny

And I controlled every word they said.



They were minions before me, every one,

As they lined up to peek in my brain.

Their pathetic need to be near me

And to have their name associated with mine.



I am the top dog of this facility

Where they keep me under lock and key,

Afraid of my brilliance and courage,

They could never be anything like me.



They will eventually see the error of their ways

And I will once more take my place

Ready to grace every history book

That dares to live up to my expectations.



But for now, I bide my time

And imagine how those that have wronged me

Will be made to pay for their betrayal

And suffer the consequences of their actions.



They will regret ever meeting me,

For they will have brought it all on themselves,

By daring to think they are better

After being seduced by my charm.



I was the greatest they ever had,

And I will be one last time,

For they will never have another

After I get my hands on them.

No One Understands

09/08/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



No one understands what it is to be me,

To live inside my head,

With all the insecurities,

The anxiety, the depression, the guilt.



I wish I could escape myself

When it all becomes too much,

When it threatens to overwhelm me

And I have nothing left to give.

The Box

08/08/2020 –  Poem a Day Compilation



The cat looked at the box.

It hadn’t been there the day before.

She looked at it from a distance,

Then circled it carefully,

Regarding it with suspicion,

Before approaching it

As if it might suddenly

Launch an attack on her.

She sniffed it,

Pulled away,

Then sniffed again.

The odour was new

But not unpleasant.

This was now her box.

She poked her head over the side,

(Examining, measuring)

And decided that, yes,

She would in fact fit

And stepped delicately in,

Barely making a sound,

Conforming her body to the box

Until the edges between box and cat

Were blurred to the point of

Being unable to tell where one ended

And the other began.

Unemployed

07/08/2020 - Poem a Day Compilation



I am not unemployed.

I am unemployable.

There is no real reason.

It’s just what I’m told.



I have the qualifications.

I have done the all the hours.

I’d just like to be given a chance

Like everybody else.



I’m not overly political,

I don’t bring my views to work.

I don’t like to get into arguments

Or cause any tension.



I quite like sports and theatre,

I can happily talk about both,

And I’m not pushy with my opinion

Even when heavily pressed.



I can work from home or an office,

With others or on my own,

I sound, on paper, like perfection

Until I walk in the door.



They never come out and say it,

But how I look frightens them off.

They don’t need to tell me directly,

I can tell before they open their mouth.



I won’t apologise for who I am,

I can’t change the way I appear,

And if you won’t see past the superficial

I don’t want to work for you there.



But I would like to be given an opportunity

To show that I’m capable, at least.

That how I look doesn’t affect my work,

Only your perception of me.

Fast Food

06/08/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



I grabbed a stick of celery

To nibble on while I worked

It was the fastest snack I’d made

In the history of making snacks.



It happened faster than the fries,

And quicker than the burger,

It was speedier than the slurpee

And more prompt than Portuguese.

Strange Universe

05/08/2020 –  Poem a Day Compilation



There’s a planet in our universe

With the wonderfully inventive name

Of HD 131399Ab

Which plays a very dangerous game.



Luckily, it’s located very far

From this tiny planet we call home

Around 340 light years away

Making safe our little biome.



But in the constellation Centaurus

Scorpion-1b, as we’ll call it for short,

Has a unique relationship

With the suns it wishes to court.



If Scorpion-1b were to be found

In our solar system by chance

It would dwarf even Jupiter and

Make astronomers take a second glance.



Its system has not just one sun,

Not two, but three suns in total

Linked to them in fine balance

And, by their gravity, it is motile.



Its orbit is extraordinarily long,

Taking 550 earth years to complete;

Around the biggest of the three stars

It meanders without missing a beat.



The other two stars are locked,

Orbiting each other in a kind of dance

Whilst also orbiting the central star

A magical thing upon which to glance.



For somewhat just over a century

Scorpion-1b has constant daylight

With all three suns visible

Beaming their rays so bright.



At other times during the year

The suns will rise and set

Giving a spectacular triple feature

Any photographer would pay to get.



But finding a place to stand

Might be hard going, you know,

What with it being a gas giant

It has no surface on which to go.



It’s unlikely to harbour any life

(conditions being unfavourable at best)

With liquid iron falling as rain

An umbrella would not stand the test.



It is a young planet, to be sure.

Only 16 million years, give or take.

And that gives us plenty of time

For discoveries aplenty to make.



So next time you search the skies

Be reminded of Scorpion-1b

And the billions of worlds left to find.

Oh, what treasures are left to see!

Locked in a Jar

04/08/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



Locked in a jar

Deep in my heart

There’s a memory

Of a long-ago time

With people now gone

In a place I’ll never return.



Locked in a jar

Is a feeling of love

That envelopes the memory

And holds it tight

So it may never wither

Or evaporate in the night.



Locked in a jar

Where it is eternally safe

Is a picture of you

That never grows old

And stays with me always

Until my last breath.

Trust Issues

03/08/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



Trust is an issue for me.

I don’t trust anyone.

I know that people tell my secrets

So I don’t have secrets anymore.

I create a reality for myself

That I am happy to share to all

And it is nothing I worry about

Being disseminated

To the general public at any time

Because anything I tell you today

I’ll probably shout to the world tomorrow.

On Shaky Ground

02/08/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



I was sitting at my desk

When I felt a strange sensation.

It was almost imperceptible

But I could have sworn

On my dead father’s grave

That the floor shook,

Just a little and just for a bit.

I looked around

But no one else seemed to notice.

Maybe I’d imagined it

Though it’d felt quite real.



A little while later

It could not be mistaken,

The windows rattled for a second

And everyone looked up

Thinking something must have flown

Directly into the windows

But it came from all directions.

And just as everyone turned away

The windows began to vibrate

And several picture frames

Filled with photos of loved ones

Sitting on people’s desks

Toppled over without warning.



The looks on people’s faces

Ranged from the quizzical

To the downright scared.

We all agreed it had been an earthquake

But no one could say where it was exactly.

The news was no help,

With merely unconfirmed reports

From all over the city.



As we stood around,

Wondering what to do,

We were nearly knocked off our feet

By a large jolt.

The curtains swayed

Despite the closed windows

And several people let out gasps

As they grabbed their desks to steady themselves.



We all ran for door frames

To brace ourselves with

Or hid under desks

That would provide little protection

If the ceiling came down upon us,

As the shaking and rolling continued

For some minutes.



Then it was silent.

No birds chirped.

We emerged from our places

Of relative safety

To investigate any damage.

Too soon,

as we discovered a moment later,

When the next jolt hit,

Stronger than before

As if it were getting closer.



The disturbed papers

And fallen plants and pictures

Were the least of our worries

As the ripples came,

Wave after wave

With barely any time between some

And we took those still seconds

To run to the street

Where others from the surrounding buildings

Had also gathered.



Many sat in the middle of the road

Unable to remain upright

As car alarms sounded from every direction,

Set off by each successive wave.

Huge light posts swayed

And a tree up the road was uprooted.



We could hear sirens a few streets away,

Wailing above the cacophony

Of fire alarms and dogs barking,

Tearing off away from us

To help those more in need

Than we few shaken souls

Standing in the cold street

Trying to make sense of what had happened

And what to do next.

Interference

01/08/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



I feel it encroaching on me

I feel its obstructive voice

It feels like a distortion

It feels like I’m being harassed



Can’t I be free of this disruption?

Can’t I escape the violation I feel?

I have no involvement here

I have no influence over my life



I know it tries to manipulate me

I know about societies prejudice

I want to run away from the pressure

I want to be free of this parasite



There’s no need for an intervention

There’s no need for this disturbance

All it does is create more noise

All it does is block my thoughts



I am being infringed upon

I am being jammed inside my head

I cannot abide the interruption

I cannot take this intrusiveness



This assistance is hindering me

This hitch is slowing me down

I loathe this encumbrance

I loathe this uninvited intrusion



I don’t need any well-meaning aide

I don’t need any misguided meddling

I don’t want any help from outside

I don’t want any interference from you

Overgrown

31/07/2020 –  Poem a Day Compilation



To be completely honest

I’d let the garden go.

It was too much work.

What with being a mum

And working full time

And having my mother live with us

There just wasn’t enough

Time or energy left at the end of the day

To make time for the poor garden

And it did look so neglected.

If I could have paid someone

To come in a mow the lawn

Or trim the trees,

Perhaps to a bit of weeding,

I would have jumped at the chance

But the purse strings were tight

And anything bar food and utilities

Was a frivolous spend right now.

So, the grass grew too long.

The weeds were out of control.

The trees hung branches over the fence.

Then it happened.

Not just to me but to everyone.

The world stopped.

Work closed up.

The pubs shut, the cafes closed.

And I was stuck in my house

Staring out at my sad looking garden

Wondering what I was going to do.

Then it struck me – here was my chance.

Not to pay someone to fix my garden

But to fix it myself, to be productive.

So, I put on my boots and gloves

And pulled out the secateurs,

Barely used this past year.

I got to work, pruning and trimming,

Mowing the lawn and tidying the edges,

And weeding the flower beds

Until it looked like a garden again And not the unruly, overgrown mess it was.

The After Party

30/07/2020 –  Poem a Day Compliation



Glasses clinked together

Music blared from hidden speakers

Celebs congratulated and commiserated

As I stood on the edge of it all



I did not belong here

Among the fancy drinks

And even fancier foods

Being served on silver trays 



Then I spied her,

Sitting by the pool,

Looking adorable

And completely alone.



I made my way through the crowd

Of glitterati and wannabes

To the side of the pool

Smiling as I approached.



She turned her head

And her eyes melted my heart.

This was where I should be,

I had found my place after all.



I reached out a hand,

She lifted hers to mine,

It was so soft and delicate,

Like heaven to touch.



“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,”

I said with an eloquence

I normally had to put on for strangers

But for her it came naturally.



I thought I detected a hint of a smile

As she withdrew from my hand, 

Before she sidled up to me 

And licked my face like the good girl she was.

The Joy of Sweaters

29/07/2020 –  Poem a Day Compilation



There is nothing better

Than snuggling up in a sweater

One size too big

That belonged to an ex

That forgot to take it with them

And feels like a warm hug

When you put the hot water bottle

Underneath it

But over your singlet,

And you have the trackpants on

That are way too long

But you can’t be bothered taking up

So they act like socks as well.

How to make a Chocolate Cake

28/07/2020 –  Poem a Day Compilation



This recipe gives a preparation time

Of forty minutes but, I think 

They have neglected to include

The dash to the shops because

I have forgotten at least two

Of the main ingredients.



According to the directions

It makes one 8-inch two-layer cake

But does that allow for me

Sampling the mix as I go

And the children who want

To lick beaters and the bowl?



First, I need to preheat oven to 350 degrees.

No, first, I need to look up how to convert

Fahrenheit to Centigrade

Or run the risk of burning the house down

And having no chocolate cake to show for it,

Which may be the bigger tragedy here.



Next, I must butter cake pans.

Clearly, the first instruction

Should have been to remove said butter

From the fridge so that it can be

Applied easily to the cake pans

By small children who refuse to wait patiently.



No, child, when it says to “line bottoms

with parchment paper, and butter paper”

It does not mean to line your own bottom

Using the butter to hold it in place,

Now I must get more butter out

And find more parchment paper.



Then comes the dusting of the pans with cocoa;

And the dusting on the counter tops,

The recipe book, and the younger brother.

Followed by the tapping out the excess cocoa

Directly, in theory, into the mouth of older sister

Who gets some in her eye almost immediately.



After carefully washing out said daughters eye

We sift the cocoa, flour, baking soda,

baking powder, salt, and sugar into a bowl.

Well, most of it is in the bowl.

Some is on the benchtops with the cocoa

And I’m sure some is in my slipper, as well.



The next instruction is to beat in oil,

Buttermilk, vanilla, eggs, and hot water

ONE AT A TIME, CHILD!

Be sure to use the mixer set at low

(Don’t ask me how I know this)

And beat ‘til smooth, or you run out of patience.



Pour the batter into the pans yourself.

Do not be persuaded by puppy dog eyes

From small humans

Covered in various ingredients

That were supposed to be in the bowl

And not in every orifice of their body.



Bake for 45 to 55 minutes,

Or until a toothpick inserted into the centre

Comes out clean enough that

The child still hovering doesn’t want to

Lick it and stab themselves in the tongue,

The others distracted by bowls and beaters.

Rotate the pans halfway through

Because you haven’t got enough things

To keep you occupied,

What with cleaning up the children

And the benched, and the floor,

To a somewhat respectable standard.



Remember to remove cakes from the oven.

This is very important.

Otherwise you end up with two tins

Of solid rock that not even the dog wants,

And the kitchen smells of burnt dreams

For at least the next two days.



Let cakes cool in pans on wire racks.

They say 20 minutes, but it’s usually more.

Sometimes it’s an hour because

Child one has discovered the frosting

And is eating with a spoon under their bed

While the other two cry because they’re not.



Invert the pans to remove the cakes

(hopefully intact and not charred)

Before discarding the parchment paper

Securely enough that the bastard cat

Can’t claw it out of the rubbish

And scatter crumbs throughout the house.



Cool completely on racks, top side up,

Though, by this point, I’m not entirely sure

Which is the top or the bottom of either cake,

And cut off the top of one layer,

Remembering to feed the off cuts

To the remaining seagulls, I mean children.



With a butter knife, frost top of trimmed layer.

Failing to find a butter knife, use any flat item

You may have laying about in the kitchen

Or, as last resort, your garden shed

Because it’s probably easier than finding

A godforsaken butter knife where it should be.



Place the other layer of cake on top

(Assuming you managed to salvage both cakes)

And frost top and sides of the cake

With your butter knife, or trowel,

Until not completely disappointed

With the final result.



The next steps are the most important

So pay careful attention:

Cut two small slices for the children,

Reminding the third that she just consumed

Her body weight in frosting and will be

Violently ill if she even looks at the cake.



Cut a slightly larger slice for your partner

Who conveniently disappeared to the shed

Whilst this whole ordeal was happening

And will be in charge of cleaning up the mess,

But did help you find the trowel

So deserves some reward for that effort.



Take the rest of the cake,

Which should amount to approximately

Three quarters of the original cake,

Along with a healthy dosing of whipped cream

And any ice cream the vultures, I mean children,

Haven’t devoured without your knowledge.



Finally, find a quiet place to reflect

On the fact that you not only survived

But created an edible, and non-lethal,

Meal substitute for yourself

As you consume the entire thing

Without a shred of guilt or remorse.

Junk Mail Prose

27/07/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



Hello Sir,

(I’m actually a Miss,

But we’ll let that slide for today)

I have a business to share with you.

(I’m quite sure you don’t

As I’ve had these things before)

I am Barrister Charles Anthony

(You’re not Charles Anthony,

And you’re definitely not a barrister)

I am contacting you to assist retrieve

(I’m pretty sure a barrister has

Better grammar than this poor attempt)

His huge deposit Mr Alexander left in the bank

(Mr Alexander should be more careful

With his huge deposits in future)

Before its get confiscated by the bank.

(I’d say that Mr Alexander has

Been up to no good, wouldn’t you?)

Get back to me for more details.

(That’s a bit rude, not even a please?

That’s not how we do business, mate)

Barrister. Charles Anthony

(Yes, so you said at the top,

It wasn’t that long of an email)

Standing in Line

26/07/2020 -  Poem A Day Compilation



Standing in line

To enter the stadium

Surrounded by the noise

Of thousands of voices

Chatting and cheering

Excited and hopeful

Waiting for the gates

To swing open

And be ushered in

By underpaid security

Who dread the end

When the fans exit

And those who lost,

And drunk too much

And ate not enough,

Want to take it out

On someone convenient,

But, for now,

It is calm

If not quiet

And the buzz in the air

Is jubilant.

Quite the Collection

25/07/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



I have quite a collection of trinkets

From all around the world,

Encrusted in rubies and diamonds

And some even impearled.



They remind of places I’ve been,

The people I’ve met along the way,

The fun that’s been had by the by

And the experiences by night and by day.



I hold onto those memories

Because it pains me, I might forget

And I have not wish to not remember

And spend my days filled with regret.

A Letter to Dee

24/07/2020 –  Poem a Day Compilation



I might, if I may, dabble

In the dainty art of poetry –

Though you may prefer a dance for two

With a dandy, or someone more dapper,

Someone more daring that would call you darling:

A dashing lad, dauntless from dusk to dawn

Who will dazzle you, my dear,

And be far more debonair and decent

And decisively declare his love for you,

But I would decorate my world

And dedicate it to you,

My deep affection for you defiant

Though deftly shown in delectable ways -

A deliberate move, so delicate and delicious,

To show my delight and deliver to you

A deluxe experience

Demonstrable of my dependability

That depicts and describes

The care you deserve.

If I could design a way to show my desire

You might be destined to detect

And determined to develop

A way to devise the depth of my love.

It would show how devoted I am to you,

That you are my diamond,

The difference between my happiness

And my dignified sadness,

Your dimple shining in the night.

I could be so diplomatic,

Direct and disarming,

A discerning disciple of your radiance,

But I fear to disclose the entirety of my affection

Lest you discover the hold you have over me.

I can discretely discuss how you make me feel

In a formal dispatch

And dispense good advice any time.

I would only display my fondness

In a distinguished manner

Without distracting anyone in the least.

You are, to me, a divinely created doll

Donated to mankind to dote on,

Doubtlessly enchanted

By your down-to-earth nature

A visage that any artist would wish to draw

And any mere mortal would care to dream

Of you in a flowing dress, drink in hand,

Driving every one with a pulse wild

With your dulcet tones,

Leaving many a great mind dumbfounded

As they listen dutifully,

To you talk of dynamic ecosystems.

And all the while I duly bide my time

For five minutes alone with you, my dear.

The News Today

23/07/2020 –  Poem a Day Compilation



I couldn’t face the news today.

I couldn’t stand another moment.



Too many lies spewing from mouthpieces.

Too many warriors left ignored.



I didn’t want to see the pictures.

I didn’t want to read the heartache.



There is far too little joy to be had.

There is far too much misery shown.



My heart breaks at every story.

My heart bleeds for the injustice.



No more tears shall stain my cheeks.

No more clenched fists every night.



We cannot continue this way.

We cannot remain part of the problem.



Tonight, I will hug my child tight.

Tonight, I will read in my bed.



When my mind is at ease I may return.

When my heart is healed, I will be whole.

Suspicion

22/07/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



There is a belief about me,

A story that people tell,

That I am something other

Based on nothing by idle gossip.



They have come to a false conclusion

Trying to fit me together like a puzzle,

When none of those pieces fit

And the picture is malformed.



The conjecture is pure fabrication

For none of them are willing to ask,

The pertinent questions go unanswered

When the lie is easier to hold.



They fancy themselves so righteous,

So completely at odds with who I am,

But they fail to see the harm they cause

By closing their minds to it all.



The feeling they get when they see me

Is somewhere between fear and hate

Because I challenge their long-held assumptions

About who belongs in this place.



I guess they’ve been protected

By a bubble of their own making

And should anyone try to burst it

There will be hell to pay.



You know that feeling in your gut

That tells you these people aren’t right?

I wake up with that in the pit of my stomach

And go to bed with it there just the same.



I had a hunch before I moved there

But I convinced myself I was wrong.

No place can be so backward thinking

They’d judge me for something I can’t change.



My hypothesis was sadly mistaken,

The people did not welcome me one iota.

They drew their blinds as I passed by

And crossed to other side of the road.



This idea that people are people

Is not so widespread as perhaps it should be,

When some are seen as better or worse

For no good reason that I can see.



First impressions can be hard to shake

But to be judged before you’ve done anything,

Or even spoken a word from your mouth

For anyone to take such offense.



I had an inkling as I pulled in my driveway

And saw all the curtains twitch

That it might take a while to be accepted

But I was willing to fight the good fight.



I should have trusted my intuition

Because this isn’t fight fairly fought.

You can try as you might to take the high road

But the low road has no bottom to reach.



They use every slur, every stereotype,

To wound you again and again

And though words should never hurt

It is a death by a thousand cuts.

The notion that they have right on their side

As they curse you out on the street

Is baffling to me every time

And you’d think I’d get used to it someday.



I don’t believe in premonitions

But this feeling is so hard to shake

That things are not getting better

But getting worse with each passing day.



They speculate on my every action,

From where I go to what I buy.

Heaven forbid I talk to a soul;

I’d likely be run out of town.



The supposition that I am no good

Comes from the ignorant repetition of rumours

That stem from derivative works of fiction

Tainted by the bias of unfounded supremacy.



Please don’t ask me to surmise

How each and every one of them got to this point

For that would make me no better

Than those who would slander my name.



I could write an entire thesis

Just on the people of this small town:

From the narrow-minded bigotry

To the overt mob mentality on display.



One day I hope to change their view

But today is not going to be that day.

I am weary and don’t feel like fighting

So I’ll just stay in my home.



To regard others with suspicion

When they present differently from you

Is a learned human behaviour

That we all must one day overcome.

Fix This

21/07/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



How do we fix this

When the world is falling down

Around our ears

And I can’t see an end in sight?



I’m broken and afraid,

Crying out for reassurance,

In a world turned upside down

By events beyond my control.

Last Words

20/07/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



The taste of death is upon my lips. I feel something that is not of this earth.

- Mozart (1756-1791)

I am alone with my thoughts

And they are not good

As I await the emptiness

That death brings.



I straddle the void

Between living and dying,

Not knowing how my passing

Will affect those I leave behind.



What words might bring them comfort

As I slip away into nothingness?

My body but an empty shell,

No longer yearning for one more day.



Are there any words?

Maybe it will be a look, a gesture,

That stays with them

Long after I shuffle off this mortal coil.



Perhaps these will be my final words,

Written and not uttered by these lips

That have kissed too few times

And spoken in haste too many.



I hear them on the stairs,

My children now grown so big.

I must think of something witty to say

Lest they find me wanting of a quicker tongue.



I hope they cannot feel this pain

Of wanting to say so much

But not having the words to speak

Though I fear I betray myself.



No words are coming,

No repartee to delight their ears.

Just a vacant stare from behind dull eyes

Though I long to see them one more time.



I am alone with my thoughts

Of love and happy memories

That spill from my eyes involuntarily

As if to say goodbye.

People You Have Known

19/07/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



I’ve met a lot of people

But how many have I really known?

I don’t know that I ever have

Actually known anyone fully.



I’ve known their likes and dislikes,

Their loves and their hates,

Even their pet peeves

And things that make the squeal for joy.



Yet, people keep surprising me

With the things they do,

The words that come out of their mouth,

The ideas that rattle around their brains.



Often times it’s a pleasant surprise,

A love of a particular artist,

Or a passion for a game you play,

Maybe a mutual friend you both adore.



Sometimes it’s not so nice,

A difference of opinion,

A deeply held belief you didn’t know of

To which you are completely opposed.



But whatever you are discovering about them

They are also discovering something about you

And that is the beauty of friendships,

That they continue to grow and develop.

The Madness

18/07/2020 –  Poem a Day Compilation


As the walls closed in

And the darkness fell

The sounds of the night

Crept into her ears

Her hands clamping about her head

Holding in what sanity remained

Against the screeches and screams

From beyond the brick walls

Of this lonely and lonesome place

From which there was no escape,

No distraction and no respite

Despite the frenzy of prayers

In this godforsaken place

To a non-existent deity

For a freedom that will never come

When lunacy takes hold of those

Who stand outside the door

That they no longer understand

What is right and wrong

And buy into the hysteria

Of the latest fad treatments

With no thought of the consequences

Of testing procedures on the manic

Without their permission

Or even their knowledge

Hidden from scrutiny by demented laws

Serving a master as unsound of mind

As those incarcerated in psychiatric wards

For indeterminate periods of time

Under the auspices of mental health

A true derangement of a system

Meant to protect the world from the insane

And the depressed from themselves

While the unstable run the asylum 

Which makes the rest of us mad.

Parallel Me

17/07/2020 -  Poem a Day Compilation



Somewhere in a parallel universe

There’s another me living their life

Being all successful and amazing

And, generally, not being me.



They’ll have my same DNA

But nothing else will be familiar

Because where I went left

They went right or straight ahead.



I’m proud of them for their success

And all that they have achieved

Even though I’ll never know

What accolades might have been bestowed.



Maybe one showed a little more dedication

To that sport I was vaguely good at

And won the world championships

Through drive and determination.



Maybe one scaled every mountain peak

On every continent on earth

And their name will be beautifully etched

In a record book forever more.



Maybe one found the love of their life

And revelled in this match made in heaven

Knowing that they are completely cherished

And will never be forever alone.



Maybe one had a brood of children

Enough for an entire softball team

And doted on them all individually

As only a mother could.



Maybe one was a successful writer

With novels and anthologies galore

Touring the world for signings

And readings with fans she adores.



I don’t know what they might think of me

And whether they’d be jealous or not

But maybe there’s something I’ve done

That would make them just as proud.

The Spice of Life

16/07/2020 - Poem a Day Compilation


I know a guy who’s the salt of the earth,
Not afraid of getting into a caper or two
And been known to act like a dill,
But he’s only one to rue the day
When he doesn’t give it some curry.


You can pepper him with insults
If you’re not feeling too ginger
Though he’ll reply in a sage tone of voice,
“That’s mint” with cheeky smile on his face,
“You can’t live your life being vanilla.”

Frozen in Time

15/07/2020 - Poem a Day Compilation


I froze.

Time froze.

Nothing moved.

No one breathed.

No one blinked.

Forever memorialised.

An instant in time.

Never to be repeated.

Only to be relived.

The moment captured.

Frozen in time.

The Violin

14/07/2020 – Poem a Day Compilation



The stairs creaked underfoot,

Their tread almost pristine from lack of use.



I didn’t know what was up there,

No one ever took the time to explain

And now I was the only one left with the keys.



At the top of the flight, on the landing,

Little plumes of dust rose from the carpet

With every step I took towards the door.



The keys were cold in my hand

But my palm was sweating in anticipation,

Maybe in fear, as well.



I don’t know exactly what I felt.



It’s a bit of a blur if I’m perfectly honest.



I put the big key in a lock

That looked original to the house,

Chunky mid-1800s, I thought.



The key jiggled, rattled, not wanting to turn

Until it suddenly found its home

And sprung around in my hand with a click.



The lock opening was just the start,

The door wedged shut over the years

By the expansion and contraction of its boards

From season to season,

An era of dirt and other detritus built up

To make an almost perfect seal.



No amount of pulling and pushing would help

To free the stubborn door from its frame

So, I lined up my shoulder with the door

Braced against the inevitable impact

And threw my body weight forward.



It felt like the whole house shook

But the door remained closed.



I braced again, this time hitting it harder.

I could hear the screech of the door,

The wood being forced apart

After so many years of happy coexistence.



It took several more hits before it swung open

And I found myself staggering forward

Into the darkness of the attic room,

The air thick enough to taste,

The smell wanting to make me heave.



I fumbled for the light switch on the wall

As my eyes somewhat adjusted to the dark

But there was no switch to be found.



I could make out vague shapes,

Boxes, maybe, piled haphazardly,

And a boarded-up window

Filled remains of a thousand cockroaches.



There in the dark,

My eyes now adjusted as best they could,

I saw a string hanging from the ceiling

And I hoped it was for the single globe

I could just make out on the ceiling

And not part of a monstrous web

With an enormous spider at the top

Waiting to devour me for lunch.



I flicked the cord gingerly and,

Not finding myself become a meal

For a hungry arachnid or something worse,

I tugged on its grime encrusted end.



The light flickered to life,

Casting a dull yellowish glow

So different from the bright white

Of the LED globes downstairs.



I looked at the boxes, layered with dust

And who knows what else,

Thinking that I should have put the gloves on

At least twenty minutes before this point

But better late than never, as they say.



Slipping on the gloves, My hands swimming

Despite them being the smallest size available,

I tried to read the writing on the boxes.



I scraped the muck away from the carboard

Revealing delicate printing –

Oma’s Music –

And took a deep breath.



It wasn’t my Oma, but hers.



Die Groβmutter meiner Groβmutter.



I opened the box and, there,

Neatly stacked inside,

Were bundles and bundles of papers

Filled with the music of a lifetime,

For piano, for violin, for clarinet.



The piano she’d played these on

Stood proudly downstairs,

The focal feature of the drawing room,

Grand and kept perfectly in tune.



The clarinet had been broken in a move

Long before my time,

Even before my mother’s time,

Reduced to a memory shared

From generation to generation.



But the violin, locked away for so long,

Sat in another box, still inside its case,

Longing for someone to love it

And to play it, just one more time.



It would have to be restrung,

Its wooden body polished

To restore the stunning handiwork

Of a young Matthias Klotz,

His instrument now so far from home,

But once again loved as it had been

At the hands of a beautiful lady

From the forests surrounding Mittenwald.



I dared not touch it then,

My gloved hands caked in dirt

And shaking from the find I had hoped for

But dared not expect,

Lest I come away sadly disappointed

By what I had found.



A third box, more reminiscent of a chest,

Groaned as I lifted the lid,

The ghosts of more than a hundred years

Spilling free from their crypt,

Leaving only the photographs,

Yellowed and curling at the edges,

Of family, of friends,

Of places and events on dreamed of

For the likes of me.



A child posed at the piano,

Her dolls laying casually atop,

Her fingers perched on the keys.



A teen at her first ball,

Glowing radiantly in the throng,

Her gowns train spilling away from her.



A family portrait of stuffy men in suits

And women in far too many layers

For that time of year.



A couple just married,

Their love and devotion

Shining through the years.



A mother and her brood,

She looking too young to have so many,

Unaged by the trials and tribulations.



There was life in those boxes,

Love and heartache, fear and triumph,

A never-ending story of joy and sacrifice

Never forgotten, but sometimes pushed aside

As the day to day struggles took over

The caretakers of those memories.



Now I was that caretaker,

Duty bound to bring new life to old stories,

And to treasure that which remained

Of a woman I never met,

But to whom I belonged

And to whom my children belonged

And whose blood flowed through our veins

As a living reminder to all she was

And all that we could be.