28 October 2014



the sky is dark and heavy

dismal as an infant’s funeral

tones of grey and black

divide the days

and we are hostage

to perpetual winter

the sun is dying

heaven is weeping

darkness reigns

in the hinterland


2 October 2014





or hardly ever

not now and then

but now, forever


they are out to get me

I know they are

their whispered fragments coalesce

to form steel traps

for my clumsy feet

and a crown of thorns

for my weary head

tectonic plates shift

beneath the gut

beyond the entrails

into the deep

the heart of things

the end of light


my fingers are stained

with nicotine and blood

I’m high now – too high for comfort

each horrifying impulse

passes through my colon

with a nauseous thrashing motion

tearing like baby sharks

devouring their birthing sacks

I cannibalised my ego

to construct a prison

with no walls

and no means of escape

this crimson shelter

affords no respite

from the luxury

of self reflection

or the aching desire

for sleep