To light a candle
With no wish
But to have light

What a wonder,
The world discovered blue,
It spread like wild fire
Across our skies.

A tree inside
The child’s glimmer
Of the forest.

A mistake in the hands,
Leaves a child
In adulthood.

I know the moon is still up there,
In its absence I feel self-conscious.

Paper birds
Land real
On chimneys and roofs.

The wind formed wheel
Of a battered leaf
Rolling on the road.

The bus drives past lampposts,
It is almost daylight
On the pavement.

The snow
Falls in the
Night Forest.

A house
Is built
To fill.

The sun has gone crazy,
The lid is green,
A surprise foretold
Following the sky.

Opening her bright pink bloom,
Spring came walking down the stairs,
With rose crowned knuckles.

Stuck in the bath,
A curled up island
Compressed stomach

In the quiet,
I’m OK
This is OK.

Ding Dong,
All the artists have come out today.

Ding Dong,
All the artists have gone in again.

The skies pronounced eye,
Spring on a tree,
A branch bending the hue.

A million years,
There are no more biscuits,
I am a million years older,
The world is flat.

Down the swallow,
Up the tree,
Where’s the mince meat
Meant for me.

I stand,
Throwing what I can
At the passing aeroplanes.

Looking for my marks
In the hands of others,
A day passes
With unfamiliarity.

The inverted sky,
Like an open soup spoon,
Polished daily,
The sun starts to shine.

See, my mouth is empty,
And my scissors need sharpening.

When I get them back from the shop,
I will cut out letters and put them on my front door.

My mouth is empty.

Devils Response

I hear the devil laughing,
I am a step behind,
Re-assuringly too slow
To catch him.

To see my face
Would kill me.

Manor Park Station

The sky hung
Like hands
On the buildings

My eyes waved back,
Skimming the clouds
Like stones,
Sinking into the yellow moon.

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