Monthly Archives: August 2018

.upper rooms.

some mornings while drifting

i see the writing in my head

come patterned, neat lines balancing

dancing with the rain

at the window

on waking

yesterday we remembered blancmange

and jelly, ideal milk and water

pineapple that split cream

food that touched

yesterday we remembered our granmas

our mothers

bundles of cotton with colours

required for mending always

yesterday she explained to sew

the four holes in synchronicity


on linen

yesterday the words came easily with labels

and names

today on brightening



didn’t get the top for likes

even shares

yet i enjoyed my day

got rid of the chair i never liked

a compromise

wrangled it out through narrow doors

into the shed where i cover it solemnly

a white sheet is apt

the colour

can heal my soul

those bits that are left

i shall gather the rest together

reorganise these books

be busy

so that

i do not

think of them huddled there together


you fetch the bus to town

& be home within the hour

shopping & conversation

boys at bus stop

talk of parents


off on skate boards badly

nearly miss the bus

pay gently while i go free

buns come from many countries

& towns ; i had the london ones

two a pack; just out the oven with


i ate them

so there is no photograph


Main Entry: niche
Part of Speech: noun
Definition: place all one’s own
:: niche ::

i gave the words away.

wrote them,

published them

shredded and pickled them,

and gave them away.

left in a niche.

yet, still they rattle,

and will always

be a part of me.

my words