Where would I be without you:
lost in the ticks of time?
Would I be frittering all my chances,
day-dreaming of stuff divine?
Where would I find my courage
without the pressure you pose?
Would I be delving deeper within
making my soul its wishes disclose?
How would I manifest my heart
or place my work in the sun?
Without you, darling deadline,
nothing would ever get done.
You’re my big swathe of cuddle,
what I missed as a babe.
You’ve cossetted me through
the cool and the macabre.
When the snow’s outside
you’re an obvious choice.
You’re generous, holding,
you’re the thing I rejoice.
But you transcend all seasons
especially in spring.
You let me feel safe
when my words are growing.
How could I write
so much brave raw stuff
without my cuddly cocoon
and knowing I am enough.
There’s a window in my kitchen
With a big diagonal skylight.
I sit under it to eat, drink, read,
Do my work and write invites.
I mostly don’t know the glass is there
It lets in light, it keeps me dry.
But at night it’s the window on the world
My own framed, private night sky.
I like it best when the rain comes to dance
With tapping, cha-cha drops.
The skylight turns into a stage
With a pitter-patter round the clock.
A mummy I knew had a cute little girl,
Always acting good, not rocking her world.
A mummy I knew was busy as hell
Her little girl in front of the TV did dwell.
A mummy I knew always checked her phone
Day or night, under her pillow it droned.
A mummy I knew stressed all around.
Her heart a deep freeze, her forehead a frown.
A mummy I knew woke up to what she’d lost.
Her little girl was growing up fast.
One last chance to melt the frost?
The eye of the needle
is tiny and sly.
The skinny little thread
goes awkwardly awry.
Fingers and thumbs
aren’t made to sew.
They’re designed to create.
Through fountain pen high
and keyboard low.
I stayed in my stuck.
A spiritual abductee.
And the stuckness
clung.
Made me feel craz-ee.
A long-term force
seemed bigger than me.
Thought it had
control.
But it was so petty.
Made me feel rubbish
about everything I did.
But one day I thought:
Enough.
Am I really that stupid?
So now I’m not stuck.
I’m released but petrified.
But it’s a fear that’s
free.
Never again a compromise.
SLAM. You score.
Because I called you a bore.
BAM. You skip.
After you give me some lip.
DING. I throw.
You’re no longer my beau.
DONG. I yell.
Living with you is hell.
DAMN. We’ve lost.
Are we counting the cost?
Criticise me to make you feel big
Belittle my efforts to cut me quick.
Pick your topic to slice me deep,
one that’s callously, coldly cheap.
Mock my spirit, fool my world.
Your cruelty’s the grit to my inner pearl.
Because in your denial you’re up to your eyes.
So who are you to criticise?
Emptiness swirls within,
sucking my energy dry.
I can’t pretend I care.
Not today. I won’t lie.
Heaviness presses my neck,
a pain of the dullest kind.
My eyes squint to the light,
but my feelings today are blind.
Weariness closes my heart,
torn from its treasured goal.
Will tomorrow feel more joyful?
I’ll leave that up to my soul.
You rock up just when I need you
Unexpected, welcome, a surprise.
Force you to come
and you’ll hide and seek.
Unbidden, you’ll lift your disguise.
Synchronicity’s your friend
though I don’t always see her.
You tee up my clues
with your caddy of cleverness,
waiting for me to hit par.
You’re a coach to my inner knowing,
my always-there, everyday chum.
And with you on my brightest side
I’m guaranteed to hit a hole in one.
inktuition 