Butter on a Sunday

Anxiety is my wife
and contentment my mistress
Apathy my daily bread
Joy my once a week
Butter on a Sunday
I am Mitcham Eastfields
And you
You're Hyde Park.

The Book of the Film

Wishing and waiting
I will watch from afar
Around the corner is
Where you will find me
Safely ensconced
In my own head
Dreaming of tales
Which could be real
If I dared to step
Out of my book
and into my film
From black and white
to technicolour
I could have it all
But then I always preferred
the Book to the Film

Walls

Rooms and walls,
Some straight, some curved.
Ceilings high and low,
Architraves and skirting boards.
To beam, or not to beam
That is the question.
So many rooms
I have called home.

Swimming

Into the wild, into the wild
Swimming, swimming, swimming
Through my mind,
Thoughts of me, thoughts of her
Spinning, falling, crashing, burning.

Cool, cool water, releases me
The same water flows
Further than the eye can see
Out to sea, see
The salt, cleansing me
I wish, wish to be
Salty, sweaty and free.

On she flows, out to
Bothnia, round, squeezes through Denmark
Over to England, and into the Thames
The glorious dirty Thames,
and now we share the same sea
Salt released, restrained
We swim and swim.

Burning and building
Scything and sawing
Through the ink
toward, far, through, beyond
Back, round, up, down
And home
One day, I will be home
Swimming Swimming.

The Edge

To the edge, edge of exhaustion
Just. Keep. Pushing.
Toe, toe, toe,
GO, GO, GO.
Cold and wet, smog or sweat
Clammy skin, chill creeps in
water and salt, mineral me
Im caked in the very two things
I need to replenish my weary body.
And soul.
The fear begins.
Into the wild, foetal child
Crawl into a tent
And wait for morning
But still no water,
bricks and mortar
Country roads, take me home.
And then
Like a vision from the Gods
A Beautiful House,
Boasts an All You Can Eat Buffet.

day zero

A smile, and smiles returned
Land of the midnight sun
A lost spring, sprung
Over caffeination and re saltification
A wave of panic
and exultation of relief
Blending with the crowd and
A few caught in the eye.
Pink sky at night
Cannot win this fight
Against sleep
It is Still Light