Dear Mummy…Somewhere

A card that I write

To show that I care

Simply addressed

Dear Mummy….Somewhere

No kisses. No hugs

No ‘There. There’

The things I do miss

Dear Mummy….Somewhere

Now that I have grown

I want to compare

Would you do it like this?

Dear Mummy….Somewhere

The path I must take

You’re unable to share

Alone I must go

Dear Mummy….Somewhere

Never a reunion

My unanswered prayer

Just a single photo

Dear Mummy….Somewhere

A card that I write

To show that I care

Forever in my heart

Dear Mummy….You’re There

Please Don’t F*ck The Soap : A Poem

Run through a field

Swing from a tyre

tied to a rope

Just remember

Don’t fuck the soap

Find that special someone

Kiss them.

Elope.

But whatever you do

Don’t fuck the soap

It’s your life to live

Your dream

Your hope

It’s just important that you

Don’t fuck the soap

Take your opportunity

Grab at it

Don’t grope

But I can’t stress this enough

Don’t fuck the soap

Be sure to love

Experience every romantic trope

All I ask is that you please

Don’t fuck the soap

The Sonnet Of Submission

Oh Goddess of mine that commands me so

Knelt bare, bound and ready I am for you

The ripples of desires from the rivers does flow

I welcome your touch – a feeling that’s true

My cries do come but not one of complaint

These ties that do bind are the only restraint

An understanding silence broke by a moan

That grows into a pleasurable melody

My body; the instrument that you orchestrate

That signature tune played so pleasantly

The sweet song of lust of which I participate

And, as this tune reaches the crescendo

One final note played to control the river flow

The Girl In The Tree : A Poem

The Girl in the room began to cry.

The words they say, she wondered why.

Did they mean to be so cruel?

She’s all alone in such a large school.

What was this lesson they wanted to teach?

An exercise in freedom of speech?

The words grew louder and through the din.

She asks – is this because the colour of my skin?

Don’t make a fuss, try not to start

They’re just being funny. Don’t take it to heart.

These are just words that people do say

They know no better. They’ll go away.

But the words did continue today and tomorrow

The words so hurtful, causing such sorrow.

Why won’t they stop? Why won’t they leave?

Why can’t she have a silent reprieve?

These are just words stop being a fool.

Quit making a fuss and get on with school

Words cannot hurt. They are just having fun.

Now quick off you go. Back to class. Run.

Run she did to her special place

Words cannot find her in this silent space

High above, on a branch in a tree.

Away from the words is where she could be free.

A freedom she wanted to feel forever.

But in that tree she asked herself whether

To come down now the words she would hear.

Those words that cause such upset and fear.

No ground she feels beneath her feet.

And soon only silence she will meet.

No longer will the words that they say

Make her feel unhappy for one more day

The Girl in the tree.

Finally free.

(Art by Rob Ahmad)