Painting Loss with a Pen

Image result for free domain images crow

Painting Loss with a Pen

I’ve traded my pen for a paintbrush,

Cashed in this ink for the splash of acrylic,

Words have not been enough,

Enough to contain the winter,

The writer,

Growth is change,

And with change I’ve grown,

Or is a regression to colours and glue just that?

An infant at the canvas,

Muddy feet and messy finger tips,

We’ve been playing in the sand again,

Running through grassy fields,

In our mind the air is sharp,

Sharp and wake-making,

We’re still dizzy,

Dizzy on dharma and dreams,

Adulthood with the sprinkles of youth,

Youth! That thing which begot this blog,

We’re still us,

Still slipping through mud,

Whilst sliding through rainbows,

Words still capture



We’re happy to let this mess stay,


These unrhymed lines,

These twists,


Abrupt endings.


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A week of change

Image result for autumn leaves

Autumn Ambivalence

Autumn sweeps us up,

Like dead leaves on the pavement,

We rejoice at freedom from this cold ground,

We shiver and smile,

Embrace the chill,

On the surface,

Deeper down,

 We long for sunlight,

For the warm nights,

For the sticky heat,

And sweat-drenched clothes,

The smell of summer is not the sprinkle of flowers,

But of perspiration and humidity,

On reflection,

After a pause,

Perhaps deeper down we sigh,

Breath out,

Breath in,

Give autumn a chance.

Image result for incense smoke

Winter Service  

They shed their skin,

Their colour,

Bleach themselves,

Chestnut brown,

A pleasing sight for the gods of nature,

For mother earth,

A gust of wind,

A fallen leaf,

A sacrifice.










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He Doesn’t Smile

I’ve been gone for a few months, but I’m back! I watched a documentary last week about the Syrian refugee crisis and it made me reflect on some of the news coverage I’ve seen about war and conflict around the world and I decided to write a piece about a refugee who’s expression almost moved me to tears.

Last night I was thinking about a Syrian refugee


He doesn’t smile,

He doesn’t smile because his smile looks like a grimace,

Because there’s nothing to smile about,

Because smiles and laughter don’t feed hungry mouths,

He carries his babe at the border,

Those around her don’t smile,

Because their eyes have seen horror face to face,

Horror doesn’t smile,

She is cruel,

And playful,

And indiscriminate,

She takes adults and children,

And loved ones,

And enemies,

She grabs parts of all,

Smiling beings,

And leaves behind man, women, child

All different,

All changed,

All unsmiling.






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Sunshine Through My Window

The days are getting a little brighter here and life is stirring and beginning to buzz all around. Out of darkness eventually comes light and out of poison medicine can often be found. I’m trying my hardest to create the light on the window through which I see the world and spring beaming outside is making that a whole lot easier. This weeks haiku are inspired by my first few days of spring.

Sniffles at the start of spring

With blossom blooming,

Spring chicks fluttering by,

Shivering I lie.

Garden in the sunshine

Bird feeder ready,

Inviting seed out for all,

Springs song in the air.

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A world where winter lasts an eternity: Svalbard

This week’s poems were inspired by a nature documentary on the animals and landscape of Svalbard, an archipelago between Norway and the North Pole. I hope that you enjoy them!


Long winter shinning,

Horizon, bleak, cold, sea birds,

Enjoy arctic feast.

Arctic Fox

Nomadic winter beasts,

Infants of a sunless plaine,

Waiting sunlight’s smile.

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