What a fickle master Old Father is,
Tick tock goes the clock,
Hours can feel like an eternity,
Whilst minutes can slip by like sand.
With the sceptres of the big & little hands,
He rules, he commands.
Rich, poor,
Those without and with power are subject to his rule,
By second, minute, hour,
To his dance across the sky,
Across the clock
Tick tock.


I’m imperfect,
But that’s ok,
I don’t think the same way,
Football wasn’t a game I could play
This skinny lad with 4 eyes never really fitted in,
I preferred the book,
Preferred to express myself through colour, through the brush and pen.
I preferred to be strange,
Sticking out like a sore thumb,
Better than being ‘normal’, humdrum,
What is normal, what is perfect?
What is it to truly fit in anyway?
I’m imperfect,
But really, that’s ok.

Poem for the Olympics

Today, the olympics recieved the official poetic treatment by Poet Laureate Carol Ann Duffy, whose powerful poem featured very topical lines ‘for every medal earned, we want school playing-fields returned‘ , thus tapping in to a wider anxiety about a legacy after these golden games. Inspired by Duffy’s poem, I offer my own tribute to the Olympics.

Golden days (London 2012)

In the sunshine we’ve enjoyed the haze,
Glinting from these golden days,
From john o’groats to lands end,
From Manchester to the East End
In the midst of grey austerity cold,
We saw gold.
New heroes in the national pantheon,
Mo farah, Jess Ennis,Chris hoy,
We shared in the tears that fell, tears of joy.
We lay in marvel at Team GB,
In marvel in what we all could be,
That we could achieve, if we believe.
Yet what happens when the party is over,
The world has gone home, when we’re sober?
Will there be still grassy fields, running tracks,
To churn future medals aplenty,
Or will they, along with promises remain destined to be empty?
We need to create a burning flame to light the way,
For the future beyond the haze of those golden days.

Blue Sky

I see blue sky,
after the rain, for almost forever and a day,
nothing but the shroud of grey,
I see blue sky.
The cloud breaking,
Light piercing,
We dare to hope as we run into the light.
Enjoying it,
Embracing it,
For that brief fleeting moment,
After nothing but grey,
I see some blue in the sky today.