there is a passionfruit vine

practicing its growing in my garden

and every day it stretches its curling tendrils skyward

wishfully struggling to tickle the sun.


it is painful to watch it.

i think about you

just as far away from me as distant moons

and i, as feeble as its little green and gasping limbs.

Moon & the sea

a white bellied whale swims round the earth

through a hole in his head, spraying handfuls of

stars that skip through the sky - silver stones over water -

and scatter themselves into dark, secret places.


the ocean stares mournfully at him.

so far below, he can’t hear her calling ‘come home’

or see the tug on her skin, or the boats tip and sway

as she lifts her arms to cup his face in her hands.



It is dark outside.

Except, perhaps, for wandering headlights

Or the glint of teeth spread open in un-hinged glee.

Drunken wading through the dirty air

(because of course we cant smell the sea)

Is it wicked not to care?


And in the day the city drums

A slow descent.

Faces slung across dry bones

or something about the way the sun burns.

(but in my ears ring dulcet tones)


The sky is black

The sky is red

Let me hang stars about my head

Strap black velvet round your arms and mourn

The trees murmur in the breeze

Soon it will be dawn.