Sunday Afternoon

I’m loosing the battle to write
against the radio
which bleats in the background
with a well spoken English voice
evicting my flow of creative thought
like the floods have driven 20million
out of their homes in Pakistan.

Less Than 50p Per Unit

Eyes as red
as oxygenated blood
30% full of up to 70% proof

skin as wrinkled
as an elephants coat
grey awash with yellow

forced facilitating kidneys
fighting to filter through the flood
make their presence felt in the lower back

a demonstration of “Dehydrated Desperation” declared

adrenals out of wack
trigger shots of fight or flight
like a blindfolded uncontrollable
seeking revenge

vitamin B stripped bare
breaks into depression

chemical upheaval
as essential fatty acids are
essentially non existent

“power C” not replaced
like the orange juice carton claims

a silent fat soaked liver
swollen to the size of four
seeks a replacement friend

Signs of Distress

Eager to enjoy a feeling of summer
passers-by stroll on the banks of the River Thames
she exposes her bare waters edge in low tide
and is anxious with humiliation at the signs of her
loss of beauty through neglect and disrespect
but they are oblivious and take no ownership
for the damage ignorance plays.

Pollution not yet knocking loud enough on their door
to disable the lungs of the role to take in fresh air
swell the eyes enough to shut down any useful sight
pump the body with cancer and disease creating toxins
or strip bare layers of skin exposed to unguarded UV rays

Not yet direct victims of the devastation to life through
droughts which dry the mouths of rivers, animals and man
lack of food which swells malnourished bellies quickly to corpse
or the onslaught of floods which flush family homes far out of sight

Adjacent to the heart of Mother Thames is a display of such life
billboard sized brilliant photographic imagery, right before their eyes
but too preoccupied with messages on mobile phones, the aim is
blotted from minds like all disasters once not prime time news.

Drifting

You,
like a baby, sit
hands resting upon your lap
head drooping forward on your chin
small snores escaping your nose
occasional twitching as nerves relax
You drift off to sleep
with the ease of a loved child
having finished his last feed of the night
nestled into his Mothers breast.

I,
like a restless child, flit
through new ideas, unable to nap
myriads of thoughts the size of pins
take over and try to impose
ability to control them fallen lax
Excited, they jump and leap.
some may call them wild
for me they’re a mere delight
creating answers to my life’s quest.

Summers End

As golden skins fade to a disappearing pale, thoughts of
insecurities and self doubt return, driving panicked bodies
straight to the arms of sun beds and hands of orange fake tan

Flows of smiles and happiness shared in sunshine’s joy are wiped
out by rains then frozen over into depressed frowns and groans
which see DR’s visits followed by Prozac prescriptions rise in demand

Summer romances loose sparkle and wash back to rough seas
leaving strings and strands of broken hearts and bitter words
strewn like dried seaweed and starfish across the shore, neglected.

The winter wardrobe full of wool and warmth re emerges its face
replacing cool cottons, swim costumes and Hawaiian patterned print
like the comfort offered by friends to lessen the pain after a loss

Light once shining for seventeen hours out of the twenty four
slips away a few minutes each day until appearing for less than eight
allowing for extra excuses to stay inside, staring at a screen, to keep safe

Summer gone, danced delicately down the road to visit the south world
leaving a broody time to reflect on life past and make plans for life future
when summer dances delicately back up the road, visiting north world once again.