If only
If only I’d had one moment
if only I’d had some time
if only you’d let me make some still small sense
of this imaginary rhyme
Sleep
If I go down to the water I can see it,
momentarily –
It reveals itself in the ripples, as if it’s winking,
slyly, at me
They gave him a medal
They gave him a medal for his ideology
for the bile that laced every word
They gave him a medal for his own theology
and the poison that his vitriol stirred.
The Way we Live
Fires are burning, lines are bracing
Nights in silence, hearts are racing
Tongues are wagging, shelves are clearing
help arrives, for the hard of hearing
I’m Not Here
I’m no longer here –
I’ve been in the papers, they use the word “tragedy”, a tragedy of sorts –
no longer able to breathe, that crash, others thrown clear –