angels

an old cobwebbed beardy writes poetry which nobody wants to read – he doesn’t even know where these words come from – some of the things he writes about have been knocking about for years – since he was a teenager – muses have come and gone and now he bides his time in solitude waiting for his angel to take him away – his shepherdess – there is simply no point trying to explain his thoughts to the outside world anymore – he barely steps outside his own thoughts – when you have nothing your thoughts become your only precious possessions – he glides through them like an eagle searching for prey – somewhere hot would be nice – he’s always fancied ending his days propped against a smooth boulder at the entrance to a cave on the side of a cliff overlooking a vast expanse of nothing – but would his angel – his shepherdess – know where to find him – and would the wolves find him first and tear his flesh from his bones – never one for taking risks he elected to stay put – surely she would find him here – he listens for her every day – in the sound of the birds in the overgrown garden – in the wind that whistles through the cracks in the window frames – in the conversations that keep him company when he closes his eyes and leans back into his solitude – the sun warm upon his old cobwebbed beardy face – his smile radiating contentment – he would never know how it came to be that he became an angel himself – what a mystery this life is – how it takes us without warning.

pitch

the television screen is black
the sound is muted
for all time

hey, let’s turn out the lights
let’s shoot the moon in the face
the stars next

no more noises please
our words are meaningless
to the dead

so why not go there?
there must be something worth dying for?
a new way of being

black as pitch

she’s a mother

she’s a mother
and she’s the best
she’s like no other
not like the rest

she’s a free spirit
with specific dietary requirements
she’s spiritual
without religious alignments

she’s homeopathic
a natural birther
she’s a breast feeder
a planet preserver

yes she’s a mother
and she knows best
she’s like no other
not like the rest

she’s widely read
in narrow fields
believes in conspiracies
the allegedly concealed

she’s an anti-vaxxer
for the good of her child
no chems for her
she’s barefoot and wild

yeah she’s a mother
she knows what’s best
unlike the science
and all the rest