How did I get lost

on this foreign planet

from which I am made

yet about which I know so little.


I am made from the Earth

this much I know –

bones formed from timber

I breathe the wind;

I cry the sea.


What flows in my veins is not blood

as it is known

but liquid gold.

I breathe it in

fill myself up with it and wrap it round me tight when the world gets too dark

so just I alone am left

a tornado of light when the shadows descend.


I know not who I am or what I am for,

I am in-between

waiting on a higher cause.






Fed up with the world.


And by the world I mean humanity

and by humanity I mean

quite simply



humans who take

self centred humans who have only their priorities at heart.


This is natural, of course

we always say it is.


‘Think about yourself more.’

But is that natural?

For what does nature do?


Of course, there are the few,

the ivy creepers of the world

who live only to shade the light of others,


but what about the rest?


The sun

which in shining

gives life

to trees

which in shading

provide shelter to animals

which in foraging

give space

to smaller plants

to grow

which in growing

provide happiness

and oxygen

and peace.


Every other being, coexists, cohabits, gives back.


We take

from each other,

from the earth;

wringing it dry

without giving back.


A society of ivy creepers,

on the whole.


It cannot continue

without grave,






She loved the flower.

She adored its delicate petals

how soft they looked, how perfectly formed:

‘So beautiful are these petals, I must pluck one

claim it as my own

because everyone must be able to appreciate it

and because I adore the flower.’


He respected the stag

marvelled at its majesty

how infatuated he became

with its magnificent antlers;

its coat

who knew that many shades of brown existed and how

such common colours could blend to create

a pelt so extraordinary:

‘So magnificent is that stag, I must shoot it,

mount those antlers on my wall

because everyone must be able to appreciate it

and because I respect the stag.’


They were fascinated by the sea

what mysteries it beheld!

The waves enticed them

the coiling surf

reeled them in

and in their motor boats

they reeled in its treasures:

‘So fascinating are these creatures, we must upheave them

pull them from their coral abodes

because everyone must see how intriguing they are

and because we are fascinated by the sea.’



‘I can’t believe these wonders used to exist!’

You turn to me and say,

revealing some image of fauna long gone.

‘Truly wonderful’ I reply

but in my head I say:

If only those who spoke lovingly of nature had in their hearts

her interests

rather than their own.







My emotions are ancient,

it seems

older than the universe itself.

I seek a friend to understand

and I find myself at the base of a tree.

I rest my cheek against the bark and cry

and its branches make me feel safe

because this old tree

tall and wise


For it too, in patient time,

knows well this ancient feeling,

and has the key.

I cry and cry

expelling emotions older than time,

and I shake

till my young bones can shake no more

and collapse

onto a leafy bed:



How pleasant it would be

to just do things

because they felt right.


Without fear,

without judgement,

take someone’s hand for comfort, for friendship,

things mean what you make them.


How different the world would seem if we could just

hug, kiss,

dance our spirits away out of love and gratitude and happiness

and not be branded whores, teases;

no promises were ever made.



What a breath of fresh air it would be

to be able to laugh and joke,

to share passions, fill our lungs and sing

without the jeers of ‘attention-seeker’, ‘show off’, ‘putting it on’;

it would be more false to stay silent.


How exhilarating

to be able to express yourself

blue hair, tattooed neck.

I’m wearing a skintight dress but my stomach isn’t flat;

you really should wear things that flatter you

yes but i like this

so bite me,



What a weight off our shoulders it would be

to be given free rein of our lives

to be ourselves

uncensored, unaltered