Home

Keep finding bits and pieces of

Myself strewn across my mind

Only to be blown away again

And what little pieces I have left

Shake and shiver in fear.

Knowing the horizon has better days

I strive onward, searching

There will always be a place

Not a hole, but a safe space

In my heart

For you to rest your head awhile

And know that I will always love you.

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What is that glint

                as the sod breaks and crumbles:

a sparkling hint

                of discovery

                as I dig the dusty summer soil?

This old garden has gained lost treasures

                of man, woman and child for centuries -

                What lies uncovered?

Teased from the clod

                I find a tiny glass heart and this ...

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I.
How does a girl become a woman?
The first time her royal blue skirt
Was stained with drops of blood
Tainted childhood's innocence
Of fertility's awakening.

Rules had chained her feet from crossing
The bridge towards a boy playing
His piece in a saxophone
Lullabies of attraction
A petty love from the ashes of lust.

Chains rang as she heavily walked
Up the stairs of her fantasies
...

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Home is in a lot of places

In a the bottom of a coffee cup, inhaling and looking up to see your friends beautiful smile because you made a funny face.

In a national park breathing the crisp air, the utter contentment of being in a place that is only yourself and the earth, with a thousand days before and after you.

Dancing in the waves, the ocean so a part of your life that your very vein...

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In 'our land', 
which retains its leafiness, 
despite how unseasonably 
a fine few are fallen.

Just beneath fury's fierce flame;
our city's many bridges
a metaphor for so much more
defiantly stand still.

I pray today, it's not just me
who hears them screaming silently
'To join together is our fate
we will not hate, we will not hate.'

4.06.17

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I am made of Liverpool which means it all

Proud and mischievous born for fun

It's in our blood to want for more

More of everything to stir our souls

We're all together when the world crowds in

Ever faithful to the passions that stir

Red for ever on a golden cause

Blues together from across the park

Fridays, Saturdays music and dance 

Laughter, humour on long walks home

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Now the lights are coming on
pink and orange, white and blue
from this distance they seem to melt into an aura
a haze hung above this haunted city

A clock tower looms over the rails
passing through this place I've never stopped here
I know nothing about how it moves or swells or stalls
but the lights all blanket it so heavenly
I think to myself, I'd like to return someday

Always, I fi...

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This poem is for all those still searching for home.

Sailing an Inland Sea

A stark white galley, sail aloft,

Knifes liquid mirrors, softly heaving,

Its pattering stem a story-teller

For fishers caught

On idle frontiers, poised

Between vaults of washed cerulean.

Its Master sighs to distant shores, yearning

For Phoenicia's Thalassa; a place of purple -

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