happy

she watches the sunrise
through curtains of lace
eager for the new day
reassured of God’s grace

her jeans & t-shirts
hang on the washin’ line
doin’ their dance
in hot August sunshine

though she’s scared
of the beasties that crawl in the dirt
gardenin’ helps her heal
it soothes every hurt

unlocking the red door
each day when she returns home
lovin’ the sound of silence
that comes from bein’ alone

fresh sheets on a new mattress
a waiter smilin’ & snappy
she realizes life is short:
she’s gonna spend hers bein’ happy

copyright © 2017 KPM

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hard to define

sky watcher
star gazer
deep dark eyes
burn your soul like a laser

honorary auntie
best girlfriend
haunting words
nightly penned

(& when people stare
you can tell she doesn’t care)

sister, lover
working girl
promises
yet to unfurl

gardener
flower-cutter
dancin’ in the rain
nutter

(& when people stare
you can tell she doesn’t care)

entertained
entranced by skin
unsure what is –
& what ain’t – a sin

alone
with music in her head
she prays for all
the beloved dead

(& when people cry
you know she knows she’s gonna die)

copyright © 2017 KPM

the last birthday

life goes on
it’s in the footsteps above my head
the metal clang of the mail slot
a sound which I now dread

the daily tasks I perform
around my tiny abode
the hum of the bus to Perth
as it rolls over the road

life goes on
with each new bloom on my plants
the washing that flaps on the line
my t-shirts, socks & pants

it’s the canned laughter
comin’ from my TV
it’s the food I sometimes cook
that evokes your memory

life goes on
though you have said good-bye
no longer can you comfort me
on those days & nights I cry

yes, life goes on:
you’re at peace with God on high
life goes on,
& somehow, so must I

copyright © 2017 KPM

somethin’ to smile about

morning sunshine
clematis on the vine
coffee steamin’ hot
spaghetti in a pot

fish swimmin’ in their tank
a walk along the river bank
ironin’ my partner’s shirt
plungin’ my hands deep into dirt

freshly done hair
friends who show they care
knowin’ what comes next
an unexpected text

the poem that takes shape
the spider that didn’t escape
the shoes that went on sale
letters from home in the mail

Saturday mornin’ & Planet Rock
finally findin’ that missin’ sock
a bra that fits just right
Scotland’s luminescent light

in the car – away we go
Bowie on the radio
Sunday evenin’ glass of wine
your hand, always holding mine

copyright © 2017 KPM

an assertion of control

water in the fish tank’s dirty
she dutifully changes it
when she’s struggling with uncertainty
her furniture – she rearranges it
when she’s seized by darkness
that seeks to destroy her soul
she thinks of things to do
to regain control

there are always clothes to wash
which she lovingly hangs outdoors
she beats back all dust & dirt
hoovering & mopping the floors
when it feels as if her demons
are on a mighty roll
she resorts to relentless cleaning
as a measure of control

she’s not an indecisive person
though she lives on sanity’s border
(& no, she doesn’t have
a delusional order)
it’s true she thinks too much
but life’s events are oft intense
she does what she feels she has to do
to get her world to make some sense

so when she’s overwhelmed by the chaos
that’s spreading across the globe
she re-pots all her plants
or cleans out her vast wardrobe
when she’s standing on the edge
of that fabled rabbit hole
she thinks of things to do
to re-assert control

copyright © 2017 KPM

nightlights

right now my life
is kinda rough
the duvet’s warm embrace
is not enough
each night now
my brain cells riot
stealing my peace
disrupting the quiet

concerned about
the dark thoughts I think
I leave my bed
to stand at the kitchen sink
staring out
the wide window
at tenement lights
shining all aglow

there are others like me
who cannot sleep
do they worry? I wonder
all alone, do they weep?
are they anxious
about paying their bills,
or just lost in reveries
of youthful thrills?

the man on the sofa
sitting with shoulders slumped
is he fearful, or heartbroken
because he’s been dumped?
the woman on the bed
whose hands cover her face,
does she feel like she’s trapped
in a precarious place?

there are other folks with problems
people just like me
who hope & pray for an end
to their current misery
this nightly ritual comforts me
it’s familiar, it’s known
those lit windows reassure me
that I am not alone

copyright © 2016 KPM

nightlights

welcome home

single she is, no one’s wife,
happy with her solitary life

the rows of DVDs on shelves
old ceramic Christmas elves
memories of love displayed on tables & walls
a bed piled high with animals & dolls
fish swimming in their colourful tank
nestled by books in alphabetical rank

remotes on the coffee table in a military line
dust-free surfaces glowing in winter sunshine
window sills crammed with welcoming plants
wardrobes that house shoes, sweaters, pants
her favourite rooms have been freshly painted
& nothing in this space by hatred is tainted

middle-aged she is, no longer svelte
just handlin’ life, no matter what cards she’s dealt

copyright © 2016 KPM

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enough

Lord, I’m tryin’ my best to pray
you know – my daily devotions
but I’m heartsick & I’m troubled
by too many emotions:
I feel sorrow & rage
loss, uncertainty & fear
what the hell is happenin’ here?

it’s apparent some folks
know not what they’re doin’
cuz hatred everywhere
is now spewin’
in America’s streets
the KKK dance with glee
while far away immigrants
fear for their family

Syria & Brexit
the Dakota pipeline
but the rich get richer,
which they think is just fine
meanwhile the poor & the middle class
doubt their vote, doubt their worth
since a psycho’s been elected president
of the most powerful nation on earth

folks are homeless, folks are hungry
recession has them in a hole
some have been made redundant,
forced to go on the dole
but still our so-called leaders
put on their X-Factor show
while the lines at the food bank continue to grow

they tell us to have courage
to be patient & wait
while thousands of confused children
line up at a border gate
have hope, the powerful tell us
they say all is not lost
but they’re safe in their mansions
shielded from the true human cost

I’m just one person
who knows not what to do
an ordinary person
strugglin’ daily just like you
a woman who loves & is loved
struggling to stay alive
who thinks we all need to be kinder
if mankind is to survive

copyright © 2016 KPM

enough

potential

on she goes
more dogged than the Energizer bunny
through times of tears
she faces her fears
she even finds stuff that’s funny

purposefully she plans
her way out of life’s every mess
hatchin’ just the right schemes
stayin’ true to her dreams
refusin’ to settle for less

always, forward she forges
determined to reach her heartfelt goal
her journey has been long
but her faith keeps her strong
misfortune will never destroy her soul

copyright © 2015 KPM

Potential

Aphrodite’s child revisited

thoughts both beautiful & obscure
a heart as dark as it is pure
the sum of everything she’s sown
is Aphrodite’s child full-grown

lost lovers like so much debris
the strong gnarled arms of her family tree
the reflection of tiny lines on her face
as she grows old in another place

without & within the doors are open
a little wiser & well used to copin’
at childhood’s demise she will not mope
yet loves & writes with childlike hope

she works / she cleans / she cooks / she eats
then dreams at night on crisp linen sheets
unspoken wishes in a brain that’s yearning
dark desires that keep her stomach churning

a woman alone without a womb
at peace in Eden’s grey & green room
where angels look down from the walls
& memory dwells in hallowed halls

she lives with the voices of the ages
& with the Magi regularly engages
no matter that her arteries harden
there is joy amongst the words in her garden

what care she for the grey in her hair –
she, who’s endured the black dog’s glare?
she’s happy with the witch doctor’s pills
& the damp embrace of the Scottish hills

there’s no fear in the mistakes she accepts
just anger & grief & ashen regrets
yet she will fight a wee bit longer
& every battle will make her stronger

rejecting the role, rejoicing in the place
her duelling done with style & grace
demons & tricksters & stealers of hearts
felled at her feet with poison-pen darts

no matter that her waist grows thick
her breasts remain firm & her mind is quick
immune to anybody’s taunts
serenely meeting her needs & wants

barely free, torn between two homes
inside her head she endlessly roams
divided mind with heart still wild
is aging Aphrodite’s child

copyright © 2010-2014 KPM

Aging Aphrodite