RSS Feed

Tag Archives: loneliness


I get a chill, when it’s quiet

missing shadows whilst counting


I think of you and wonder how you’re

doing – if perhaps, life is bowling cherries

or lemons

Do you think of me, too?

A surge of addiction 

A sadness dances when exhaling 

I think of you. Time and time again



I’m sitting right now, on my porch

and I can see my breath, a freezing cloud, washing over the keys.

I’m wishing I’d made that frivolous purchase, back in June

but I was being far too sensible and gloves were a lifetime away.

Cars pass by sporadically, their lights cascade

dancing shadows through the privet hedge.

I wonder where they’re going

in the black of night? Or why I am not

sat in front of the blazing flames that

warm the sitting room.

And the elderly man that has a dog that I’ve named

Ernie, and a flat cap and a bag of… something?

Let’s make it his life’s savings.

Well, the banks aren’t worth the money they

sit on.

What does he see as I watch him look

at me, through a fading peripheral vision?

Maybe he thinks I’m surfing the net,

watching porn on my doorstep.

Or maybe I’m penning my greatest hit.

I doubt he cares so much as he walks by

like the rest of them,

Not noticing much more than what is two feet ahead.

I’m noticing that I have a ladder in my tights and that

there’re no stars, at least for tonight. Just a depressing

glow of street lamps and my artificial light that I write by, right now.

I’m starting to shiver but it doesn’t matter because

a cup of tea fixes everything, or so I’ve heard it said.

And what of it? Who am I to judge the medicinal powers

of PG Tips? If they can make a monkey talk…

Maybe I’m taking things too literally.

It really is cold, tonight.

Time for bed.