I was delighted to be invited as a guest onto the Decadent Airwaves poetry programme on Beyond Radio.
Reading poems from some of my favourite poets and my poems was a pleasure as was the company of Paul Fisher, Matt Panesh and Amelie.
Poetry darts was fun too!
You can listen to the broadcast here
There’s nothing you can do,
but follow the flow
and cultivate the river,
forget your old routine,
swapped for care and comedy,
nurture the goodness of today
and each step will fall easier,
let love cushion your feet,
hold your heart in esteem,
your courage and bravery
will set your demons free,
our friends call and say,
you are in their thoughts and prayers,
remember hearts beat for love,
you don’t need to let the fear in,
in these struggling times,
put yourself in God’s hands.
Your tears like a sea,
penetrate my skin
and flood my soul with sadness,
absorbing the unknown.
I listen to you sleep
and hear your heartbeat,
I am your shadow of disbelief,
and meditate in memory.
Reminded of Mother’s scare,
my heart anchored in pain,
our world split
in this time of faith.
Keeping the lamp inside,
we have a change in the rhythm of life,
in this sinking sand
our spirit needs to hold on.
The cool breeze wraps around my ears,
I forget a camera and pause,
absorbed in panoramic view,
the bay brings peace to thoughts,
freedom whispers around in silence,
Cumbrian mountains in mist
like a citadel to a secret world,
not a ripple of water around me
in sight of the ocean.
My eyes close
and reflect this moment of solitude,
the soul calmed and captured in this stillness,
sky reaches out forever
my concern released to the world,
twilight direct to heart,
encapsulating the mind.
Silence echoes,
unlocks mechanics of mind,
eclipses nine-to-five,
working the inner dynamo,
escape in the compass needle,
in nothing there is everything,
nature carries you
and hears your heart in the openness,
the space that holds you,
projecting this earthing,
peace sets the soul free.
What was I ever looking for?
Perhaps my father’s sense of adventure
or was I getting away from my mother’s control,
Was I rising from routine or ruin?
Comfort in the 9 to 5,
reason in rigmarole,
stability in work and business,
the ego and id in overdrive.
I always felt I couldn’t get enough life,
it gets addictive,
what you like,
what bounds can break you.
Underpinning my own existence,
all ideas form from consequence,
the rebel was roused
and in subculture found identity.
My Parka ready,
music in my ears,
Farah shirt,
Gola trainers.
Thursday club was Indie night,
my late night escape,
my search for freedom again,
at least I felt free on the dance floor.
I always questioned reality,
What did I want in the mundane?
dulling my senses and draining
the colour from my eyes.
Connected by streets and history,
blood lines like routes,
always takes you back to a place
where there is an innate connection.
The boundary lines bond
an unspoken language
and when you are there
no-one is a stranger.
When people look you in the eye
and you see their soul and spirit
acceptance is second nature,
What was I ever looking for?
I immerse myself in colour,
in a moment my past comes
together in contemplation,
the hard wiring of the world
stripped away.
Layers surface in meditation,
memories dance through darkness,
a life time of work
at my finger tips,
I am liberated.
Looking at my bare bones,
through detachment from life itself,
hidden depths echo,
in between flashes of entity,
memories position in abstraction.
Paintings punctate
in explosions,
freedom in the turbulence,
harmony in division,
bringing meaning closer to existence.
As day draws to its climax,
red sun falls in patchwork cloud;
fragmented colours of pink
lie across the horizon
in fading blue sky’s canvas,
holding onto the day
in mid summer’s moment;
air passes bridges
and trees flower.
If this is paradise, then
I’m in heaven,
cocooned in Nature’s bosom.
For this time I reason with nobody,
nature is mine to see
what I choose.
Inspiration reflects from water.
The darkness cuts through
a thousand images,
as day folds gently
over the bay.
The colour of seasons squeezed on canvas,
like the voices echoing from the paint brush,
mixing the soft and the strong,
echoing and spreading
like the wings of a dove
released into the sea breeze,
waves fold and cast the summer aside,
the days begin to hide away,
looking into myself through layers,
visioning to reinvent myself.
The figure kneels,
strong shoulders carry the weight of waves,
where clouds reflect in water’s still haven
and only birds can fly with their scathing cry,
praying hands remember the tide,
when cracks appeared in sand
engulfing the stars and sky.
A cargo train clatters by,
past the struggle and turmoil inside
shadows at sunrise,
torn from their land
in darkness of current,
exploited by the trickery of the estuary,
This memorial stands
drawing reflection and renewal
from shore’s edge.