A core of beauty

a looming lump of mottled marble
its rugged surface
dirty and grey

he stood and stared
and in his mind saw beauty

his instinct urged him
to attack
to destroy
to possess
and he wielded his tools
in seemingly frenzied aggression

but slowly
a gentle form emerged
he revealed the subtle textures
he laid bare the silky smoothness
and slowly
he penetrated the core of beauty
of the stone

his instinct urged him
to love
to protect
to caress
and he touched the stone
and infused it with life


his arms around his legs
his chin upon his knees
he stared at clouds on the horizon
precisely where the sun was going down

in reflections of light his life
meandered through his mind
the light
grew lighter and whiter and
the colours faded away

the echoes of his countless conversations
came round and round as in a vortex in slow motion
their meanings but a memory

his lasting love
the love that he had given
the love he had received
warmed his heart until
it was all that he could feel

the beach was still
the sea, the surf was slowing down and
as if it were a mirror the water ceased to move

a bright ray of blood-red sunlight
escaped between the clouds and the horizon
and struck his face

his eyes were closed
his heartbeat was too faint
to be real and
as if he were a sculpture
he had ceased
to breathe

He rested his tired eyes

he closed his tired eyes
his mind
blank and void of thinking
filled with sounds
sounds that he could see
but couldn’t hear

and these sounds
a multitude of colours
brilliant greens,
luminant reds,
violent scarlets and blues
and the hot and yellow oranges
burning through all of them
blinding his tired eyes

the colours mingled
but didn’t mix
they painted the universe
in vibrant splashes
in psychedelic flashes
and slowly
inaudibly at first
their sounds developed
a tune

and still blinded now he listened
and started to hear
and the tune, the theme
became a symphony
and he listened
and rested his tired eyes

Until she flies

one foot firmly planted
on the ground
one leg poised for a step
her toe touches
where she will stand

and she moves

one leg reaching
where she wants to be
her foot rolling off its balance
she tumbles forward

and arrives

again she tumbles
she staggers
nearly stumbles
and step by step
a rhythm emerges

and she walks

and she walks
and the rhythm takes hold
and the rhythm turns to music
music to hum to
music to dance to

and she sings

her feet now
hardly touch the ground
each tap of her toe
sends her floating
higher and

until she flies

A tiny vulcanic eruption

our core is
like magma
wrapped in a crust
in layer upon layer of words
words to protect
words to conceal
words to imprison

some of these words
are our words
some of these words
were spoken for us
as a gift
but most of these words
were already there
and are the same
for everyone

and so this is our world
looking familiar
from the outside

but once in a while
some friendly little words
break rank
and they form a little phrase
form a little poem
and they sparkle
like a tiny vulcanic eruption
that escapes


indefinite shapes of music
start to appear all around him
they shift and slide
in syncopated rhythm
they engulf his world
and take him on a journey
of sound

from time to time
in a fountain of melody
he bursts to the foreground

friendly echoes may recognise
the theme and carry him
like a trophy

or angry dissonants
attack it and
run him out of town

until he finds his chance

his heart takes flight
it rallies all the sounds
collects all melodies
and soars to a dazzling climax
celebrates an all-new music
that no one has ever
heard before

Stage presence

big catwalk strides
her head held high
amongst the stars
her posture confidence

the gestures the words
the moods
rattling the cage
wanting to get out

but she holds the key
and slowly
deliberately she lets
the tension build
the sweet anticipation

then the floodgates open
the character explodes
onto the stage
and she
has all but disappeared


unhindered by thoughts that
disturb her
she dreams the waves away
the waves that carry her
miles above the bottom of the sea

there is no boat
there is just her and water
extending to the infinite horizon
a perfect circle in the perfect sun