Saturday 26 February 2011


In Memoriam

My beautiful, perfect baby girl,
life's miracle.
You arrived one sweltering June night
with the precious gift of motherhood.
How my arms ached to hold you, but a myriad
of tubes and lines supporting life
imprisoned and immobilised you
in that sterile, clinical place.
So near, yet just out of reach.

I tried with all my might to bear it,
I really did.
But finally overwhelmed by a desperate need
to comfort you,
I plucked madly at those hated tentacles
enclosing you
like a doomed chicken
in one of those cruel little cages.
But the doctors pulled me away,
said I'd harm you.
So I watched over you from afar,
rarely eating, never sleeping,
my heart breaking at the sight
of your tiny, helpless form lying there
so, so alone.
You appeared abandoned, unwanted
and it hurt so
that I couldn't show you
how wanted you were.

When no one was watching
I crept quietly closer
to catch a glimpse
of your beloved face.
Those sad little eyes flickered open
and looked straight into mine.
A single tear slipped out
to trickle slowly down
your soft, tender cheek.
I knew in that instant that I was going to lose you.
This was your goodbye.
No amount of reassuring could convince me otherwise.
I had received my mortal wound.

They led me away then,
and the next time I saw you
those wretched tubes had gone.
They placed you unfettered in my arms.
So I finally got to cuddle you,
attempting to wrap my entire body around you
as protection from the palpable sense
of impending doom.
But it was too late.
You were already slipping away.
You wriggled, coughed feebly,
then you were gone.
Into eternity.

A howl escaped from the depths of my being.
A guttural, inhuman sound
like a dying animal in agony,
a Spirit burning in hell.
It seemed to be coming from
somewhere far off,
echoing around stark hospital walls
and back to me. Deafening.
Falling to my knees,
I clutched your tiny still warm body
close to mine,
as if I could somehow hold you here,
cheat death itself,
with willpower alone.
I begged Ariadne to take my life
instead of yours,
bargained and implored.
But it must have been her day off,
because I had to face coming home
with gorged, aching breasts
and empty arms.

After twenty-one years
I'm missing you still and mourning
the things we've never shared.
Mother and daughter things,
like first bra and first period,
first boyfriend and shopping for clothes.
But what tortures me most of all
is that I never had the chance to tell you
with all my heart and soul.

Sunday 20 February 2011


Have you ever looked at someone for the first time and felt something much, much deeper than mere physical attraction?

Haven't I seen you somewhere before?
Intuition at odds with reason
sifting the silt of memories
long dead, entombed in the mists of time.

Fragmented images struggling to resurrect
primeval lives, lost perfection,
disturbing, yet thrilling the centre of being
reawakening a sense of bliss.

Those sensual eyes I recognise,
they ignite a hidden fire
that rages through me unfulfilled,
messing up my head.

Now awareness comes in a blinding flash
of an intimacy profound.
Conceived of the grains of Karmic dust
Twin Souls were born apart.

Dormant today and by destiny bound,
My essence lingers still
in the deepest caverns of your heart,
as you are here in mine.

So forgive me if I sometimes confuse
Soul Mate and fantasy love.
Though ocean and culture distance these lives
I've never left your side.......


Friday 18 February 2011


Cycling under Cambridge sun
to St. John's, my vacation done,
thoughts of a term's hard work to come
inspired the wish I had been a bum!

But once inside those Hallowed Halls,
with framed past Masters on panelled walls,
it once again all seemed worthwhile,
as my thesis I resumed to compile.

Then in the Combination Room,
which suddenly felt cold as a tomb,
I glimpsed a shadow by the door
that when I looked was there no more.

Although alone, I knew he was there,
I felt him pass by me to sit in the chair.
A suggestion of spectacles came to mind
As light flashed on glass with dark eyes behind.

Cautious but intrigued, I ventured near
attempting to overcome my fear
in order to more clearly see
this hazy shape in front of me.

I asked for his identity
and felt sure he smiled at me.
'Soon you'll know,' he seemed to say,
then he simply faded away.

That night I slept restlessly
and dreamed a figure beckoned me.
I followed it to find a book,
and picked it up to take a look.

'Dream and Conflict,' I read aloud,
'Dr. Rivers,' I gasped, feeling proud
that such a distinguished scholar as he
should have chosen to contact me.

I awoke inspired to take a trip
to college library and quietly sit
poring over that antique book,
when suddenly my breath it took!

In age-worn pages I had found
an unexpected solution sound
to the problem of the missing part
of the thesis close to my heart.

Now, as my Honors I receive,
I can still hardly believe
just how fortunate I have been
to have Dr. Rivers seen!

Wednesday 16 February 2011


(Dedicated to my hilarious ex-colleague)

Look at me!
Look at me, I'm over here!
All heads turn when I appear.
How could any man resist
my fatal charms and clever wit?
My long black hair and hourglass curves,
while sometimes attracting too many pervs,
have always been my ultimate bait
to mass attention captivate.

Look at me, I'm over here!
All heads turn when I appear.
With other females I sympathise,
for they must feel so drab beside
such a beauty queen as I,
and also wish that they could buy
Designer Clothes and priceless gems,
but they're too plain for diadems.

Look at me, I'm over here!
All heads turn when I appear.
I've bedazzled every male
in Liverpool, Cardiff and Clydesdale,
and those in Paris, Munich and Rome
are forever trying to make me their own.
But as being faithful is no fun,
how could I possibly choose just one?

Look at me, I'm over here!
All heads turn when I appear.
My present beau is a guy called Joe.
He's besotted with me, and so much so
that I snap my fingers and he's at my feet,
and ready to take me out to eat.
Now while it's flattering, I have to admit
that if he weren't so wealthy I'd think him a twit!

Look at me, I'm over here!
All heads turn when I appear.
I adore my visits to the beauty salon
accompanied by my friend Yvonne
where, as they pamper us until we glow,
we gleefully ridicule the men we know.
Then three hours later when we emerge,
it's off to the nightclub where the elite converge.

Look at me, I'm over here!
All heads turn when I appear.
There's no greater feeling than being aware
that as I enter the room, they're going to stare,
the men with lust and adoration
and the women with envy and condemnation.
Either way I'm feeling great,
for the limelight's mine, it is my fate!

Look at me, I'm over here!
All heads turn when I appear.
As I'm walking down the street
in skin-tight jeans that fit a treat,
White Van Man from his window calls,
'Fat arse!' and I spin around, galled.
It's the first time anyone has been unkind.
Shaken, I head to a friend's to unwind.

Look at me, I'm over here!
All heads turn when I appear.
She plies me with vodka until I feel better
and suggests my feelings I sum up in a letter.
Half a day later I put it through the shredder,
pretending I'm White Van Man's beheader!
Then in bathroom mirror I inspect my butt
from every angle including downside up.

Look at me, I'm over here!
Do heads still turn when I appear?
I awoke this morning feeling low,
noticing bulges beginning to show,
ruining my gorgeous silhouette
(from excessive high-living, I'm willing to bet).
How could two harsh words effect
such sudden loss of self-respect?

Do you see me? I'm over here.
Do any heads turn when I appear?
Dressing for work, I cast aside
my usual provocative gear and hide
my loss of confidence under a coat
for I couldn't bear to see them gloat.
Then as I arrive at my office I see
that no one seems to notice me.

No one sees me, although I'm here!
No heads turn when I appear.
'What on earth has happened to you?'
asks Terry in amazement as he hands me a brew.
'Nothing,' I snap and escape to the loo
where I sneak out my Breezers and down quite a few.
Then as I emerge I stumble into Lliam,
who fails to notice 'cos he's ogling Sam.

No one sees me, although I'm here!
No heads turn when I appear.
Samantha our latest Temp is a tart,
as she has torn my world apart
by stealing all the attention from me,
her firm young body is all they see.
I'm tempted to fire her as I'm her boss,
but couldn't bear the men all bemoaning their loss!

If no one sees me, why should I fear?
I don't need others to prove I'm here!
Spite young Sam? What would be the point?
We need some life in this stale old joint!
She's such fun with her youthful charm
and her harmless flirting can do me no harm.
I've come to the conclusion there's more to life
than looking too good and inviting strife
from wives and girlfriends who are afraid
I'll steal their men in a seduction raid.

With one special man now, I'll not fear,
he's all I need to prove I'm here!
I've quit my high-flying career
to live with Roger down in Beer.
In our modest semi, we're over the moon
and our first child is due quite soon.
But the most important thing to me
is that now I'm who I was meant to be!

Wednesday 9 February 2011


What right have I to feel this way
when I gaze upon your face,
to yearn with every living cell
for passionate embrace?

Such eyes, those lips, I gasp 'Oh God'
and quickly turn away,
before these rising tides in me
forbidden thoughts display.

I long to kiss, caress and hold you
deep into the night,
I want to be there when you wake
it somehow seems so right.

I'm an anorexic insomniac,
all I need is you
and yet this fragile, rapturous dream
never could come true.

I am no fool, I know the Sun
will never touch the Earth,
but without his vital presence
what would she be worth?

Like our Earth, I live a life
far removed from you,
still you are the impetus
in everything I do.

I'm aware I have no right to feel
the way I feel for you,
but at least when life betrays, you'll know
a distant heart is true.

Saturday 5 February 2011


(Finally on this subject, my perspective!)

Like a pack of baying hounds
You hunt me through the day,
Then when I'm drained and fit to drop
You banish sleep away.

What draws you here unearthly thing,
To leave your grave behind
And come to seek a grain of peace
In this dimension of mine?

You're caught up in an endless loop
Of abstract consciousness,
Suffering memory's grim torment
Which now is mine no less.

Why do you deny me rest
To lament your unlived days?
It wasn't I who took your life,
But a drug-induced haze.

All the while you haunt my thoughts
How can my dreams be free?
And while my memories are yours
How can I be me?

Yet if you tear yourself away
I swear I'll inwardly bleed,
So closely have you forged a link
With me, it's borne a need.

You ask could I endure a place
Where no one gives a jot?
Of course I couldn't, but what's your point?
'A fear we'll be forgot!'

Deep compassion fills my heart
Until I'm choked with tears,
I truly hadn't understood
The nature of your fears.

Your doctor's instincts pull you back
To the trenches of the Somme,
Where countless tortured Souls are trapped
In limbo by the bomb.

You attempt a rescue, but the task's too great
For a solitary ex-human Soul
And so you ask my help to heal
This spiritual black hole.

And so I'm drawn along with you
To the battlefields of France,
Where medium and Spirit Guide
Can ease this hell through trance.

Maybe now we'll both find peace
Together or apart,
But either way I'll not forget 
To remember you in my heart.