The Neighbours Lights.

When the lights had all gone out, my neighbour called.

I looked around my home and found two lightbulbs left. One was bright like the morning star, the other just a dim little one.

I took a candle and the bright one over with me, it would give the needed light into the modernly designed home. The little one would do for this small old cottage I dwelt in. For now.

We lit the candle as I entered, held hands to support each other and fumbling along we reached the place we thought was best to place it.

It lit up as expected and the light filtered well into other rooms if you kept the doors open.

In the new dawn just rising, I watched from my window as the incandescent light could now be replaced with mornings rays streaming down from heaven.

When night would come once more, my neighbour, now a friend, would be able to trace back along our steps and flick a switch to illuminate the dark should they miss the sign of nightfalls arrival. Occasionally they ask if I have another candle.

Sometimes I sit under the dim light, the little one, happy in my ramshackle space and yet desire too, to feel the familiar radiance I see now shining from my friends home.

They said I must come around one day. I see silhouettes cast by the bright light, moving about a lot and I don’t like to intrude.

So I wait; I know my friend is busy, seeing clearer now and filling rooms with even brighter lights! I also know they look out the window too sometimes when the moon is out late, and see the light of the little one, still shining.



Oceans – Part Three –


Am I the North Sea, connected
to many shores,
Still separate? Seeing
north, east, west, and south –
News, dispersed to never touch
nor share a smile.
Slowly escape every shores fingers
dipping in, stirring her tempest
lapping and tasting
each particle, face, hand, ripple.

I cannot be her without
You swimming my depth –
I am,


(Oceans – Part One, of eight)
(Oceans – Part Two, of eight)

Virtual Homes ~ The reality of it

Hello people who follow this blog. I am despondent. There doesn’t seem much point to write here anymore, and yet still so much has not changed to lead me to feel I am incorrect in this perception at this time. Yes I am whining…

You all like a good rant right? Some uplifting poetry perhaps?
Or can we just get real?

I live in an imaginary world. Filled with idiots, so akin to the real one, but still – imaginary. It is however also filled with wonderful moments where I drift off into my other worldly places and have long conversations with imaginary people partake in imaginary situations. My words take me where-ever they wish to. They express hidden sentiments that creep in like a fog on a cold winters day. I like to interact with people, but find it harder and harder to find time to visit different places – probably because I have so many of them popping up inside my head.

We say this so many times as writers, ‘I write for myself’, or ‘I blog for myself,’ and that is just utter bollocks! I really, really enjoy writing, but I really enjoy knowing people might relate or get something from it. We all do. It somehow makes us feel like we have something to give to each other.

We all go through cycles where we question our lives and our actions and even our temptations and desires – basically we question our own humanity and mortality. Well maybe not all people do that but I know most of the people who have read here before are thus way inclined.

This blog IS a journey of self discovery in every word a contradiction to account for, in every lack a strength and in every connection a lesson.

I often wonder where it is going but I have absolutely no idea and that is fine, but one thing I won’t do is allow it to just fade into the dark hole of the internet..and it is.

I would rather, as I have discovered in the last few months, let it go with dignity.

That being said, it would be a terrible shame to throw away five years of telling a story to never get to the end.

I have contemplated what to do with my posts that are in pending and I am leaning toward making them live again… it is JUST not the same picture without them lurking in the background waiting to be stumbled on.

I took them down as I wanted to go through them to put together a small book AND get them organised how I would like to. But I figure, I can still do that!

In the meantime, the entire reason I write is NOT for money or fame or accolades of prestige or any such thing, it is for people. I write for people.

I want people to see HUMAN In every word.

Flawed. Broken. Mysterious. Happy, sad, melancholy.

Whole and strong in all our weakness. At times you may disagree with what I write or maybe not understand full well. You may wonder if I have completely lost the plot and gone off onto a disarrayed path, and you are probably right – I probably do that a lot. Correction I DO that a LOT..only to come back around again wiser (sometimes) and more passionately flawed then before.

This is not  a place for perfect poetry and pictures placed just so on a feed of  instantly gratifying images where the world scrolls by without paying much more than a seconds attention all in the hopes of getting noticed and gaining some traction for whatever dream they may have that they feel they may be able to gain exposure for in this mayhem of a place called social media…

THIS – is fucking home!