30.1.12 - nk

at home one night with the sound of thunder
and the radio playing ‘moon river’, i wonder
if i’ve played my cards all wrong as nothing
makes sense anymore, except for your singing
and soft-spoken words that I have not heard
since I waved goodbye and flew away, a bird
released from a cage but didn’t know where
to go, soaring free from tender loving care
but years tell me to settle now, when i see
how i’ve let go of what makes me so stirringly
satisfied, i return to appease my uneasy soul
and resign this poker game, as i realise the role
that i was meant to play, and the world turns
a new horizon to veil my troubles and concerns

21.3.12 - nk

it was long ago, or so it seemed that i was
last here and said my goodbyes, not because
i had said i would never let go of her inviting
hands holding mine, momentarily delighting
the strained and delicate air surrounding
i could hear the faint heartbeats pounding
as i inhaled the rich amalgamated scent
of vapours aroused from trees to augment
the reassuring ecstasy that grew on me
that enlightened an unfolding history
of impossibilities i knew were touchingly
close to grasp at, all my whims lovingly
carved out slow so i would not forget how
there is only so much that time will allow

24.2.12 - nk

did such beauty ever make you cry
frozen to the chair wondering why
it was the angels that brought her
and gave her their song to stir
up hearts that had become cold
and reawaken dreams of the old
how one channels the emotions
of many into seamless oceans
like a quilt of multicolour patches
tossed up in the sky she catches
a flowing rainbow that engulfs all
well beyond the spellbound hall
and for those lives it may inspire
just to reach that little bit higher

26.1.11 - nk

Time is a peculiar thing, it just never seems
Absolutely right how the way all around me
Leaves drop and fall into place on the ground
As I walk, and I’m fixed on the moment just as
They land, caught in the unpredictable patterns
Of seasonal wind, never twice the same way.

Though I’m no stranger to this ground but
Surprises never fail to spring up, to keep me
On my feet as though one were whispering to
Me in the stillness of the morning dew, greeted
By the silence of concealed birds, rather quite
Unnerving being watched behind layers of

Thick scenic greenery, but you wished you knew
What secrets lay hidden in such lush complex
Beauty that I would never be able to understand
Or fully appreciate because I couldn’t picture
Myself here at home, even through the many cycles
Of colour I tried to adapt amidst the circumstances

During my course of stay, but change is, as always,
Easier said than done. Of course there is that innate
Feeling of hope - it wouldn’t be human to live without
A dream worth struggling for, yet alas there is a
Reason why we wake up to a different world; it was
Never meant to be exactly how you so wanted

The sun to rise each day through the treetops
A hill away scattering the spectrum with its
Weave of healthy branches. Not a bad view,
Nothing to suggest unfriendliness but to say
There was any profound connection would be
Artificial - there was no prolonged awe or genuine

Interest at why the way things worked, more
An observant cautious approach because of
Unfamiliarity, but even after a brief fanciful
Consideration, I could not see myself chasing
After birds that flew around in circles; I had
Neither the patience nor desire to discover

The pretty petals unfolding as winter changed to
Spring. And even when it was at its most exciting
Attractive display, it was nice, though I felt there was
A sense of restraint in the grand scheme however
Gorgeous the germination and whether this was
Coincidental or purely a response to my presence

Then I knew it was a sign that this could only be a
Place of temporary settlement. I would have to look
Further beyond these shades of green and wander
Off into the unknown, the uncharted, in the
Search for that which I could grasp and call my
Own. Being careful the way I tread, not to be

Led by rash instinct and intuition for it is more
Than a mere mental exercise to contain the wild
Influences of desperation as the waters gather
At knee-height wading across, merging to gush
Continually crashing over the cliff face of old
Weathered rock. Many lose their way in

Nature’s snares, untamed shrubs and creatures
Slither in territories unmarked and guarded, and
The jungle constricts and claims those who are lost.
The helpless cries echo off the caging stalks of
Dangling vines and I recall the haunting whispers
Belonging to an age of peace as if it was only

Yesterday that I could hear a voice that I knew
And trusted to guide the way out of this difficult
Stretch of land impossible to see through the moss
As dense in any direction that I turn, snagged
Sunlight barely making its way through trickling
Down to the rotting damp decaying roots of

Despair that there is no end to this journey as
One begins to lose heart in every step until one
Can bear no more, on occasions it is the cause
For unrivalled inspiration or madness to keep on
Bearing it to the end as Beethoven did or at last to
Collapse like Caravaggio surrendering on the sands

9.12.10 - nk

The walls are washed with a pasty white
A shrill of inarticulate wails from an absent mind
Bound strapped to a bed under a fluorescent light
Nurses pacing away as though deaf and blind

Sanity seeps through the window of the ward
A relaxing green from blades of grass and upright trees
Unlike regurgitated vomit congealed on a chessboard
Causing guests to look on with flinching unease

This is home – a place to sleep and eat
With privacy to defecate, a little dignity
Where stoned faces are gaunt with frozen feet
Lost in dreams winding the clock back an eternity

To be the baby once more crying in a cot
Jittered by a sweet high-pitched sneeze
Blankets of blue dinosaurs covered with snot
A weary baggy-eyed mother it fails to please

The mess wiped up from every leaking orifice
A newborn member welcomed to the household
An unspoken patient love which tells of sacrifice
As the hairs fall out leaving behind a patch of bald

Widening as the photographs hang one after
Another, somewhat artificial the way they show
Strict smiles replacing the infant candid laughter
The childhood stories only they would know

What they had missed when they moved out for
A change with different company, a life of their own
In play and work, to paint the walls and wipe the floor
Without so much of that mothering groan

But by the blink of an eye, today, tomorrow
Will sink to the past as with all in anyone’s possession
Just the same to the void whether there was wonder or sorrow
And at the advanced age, you can say of less affection

As the rest are too busy for the pettiness of old solitary
Life, it’s off forcibly resigned to a more caring environment
Away from the home of many years, but on the contrary
It’s fragile folk here that satisfies that homely requirement

The walls may be bleak and dry but it does not restrain
That fight for life, for freedom and for love committed
From characters to spend through times however mundane
Along with fictional acquaintances once again admitted

23.10.10 - nk

i. Musings 

Entering these neatly trimmed garden walls designedly
Arranged to twist our minds, disoriented
Like a restless infant at the local mall
Tracing round the chequered floor engaged in an
Eternal hopscotch, circling in a trance we gather
Around the spewing fountain adorned with alluring ocean
Maids and eccentric statue clowns cackling away at us -
A jovial wickedness masked in harmless child’s play.

Now a myriad of choices, and a crease upon my brow: for
To the left, I’ll go following this leader of a lad with his twitch of
Fingers skimming over the wall of leaves and trusty twig
In hand; or to the right, I’ll answer the timid call of nonchalant
Rhymes from a girl guiding her pallid skirt, twirling away from
Prickly, antenna-like branches, avoiding wriggling creeps but
Hark! To hear a sudden shriek and a shirk from the frightened
Startled ladybug tossed hovering high above a rocking rose.

We’re in a game for young and old, partnered by an observant
Curiosity for the unknown, scouring deep in the foliage for
The elusive path to the chalice, running rampant like unkempt
Rash little rogues of childhood buoyant company
As though we were let loose on a window licking spree
From shop to shop, hastily turning corners on the
Spur of hype, the suspense in a chase to taste the
Sanguine satisfaction of reaching the finish line.

All the while we’d do well to keep the unsoiled flowers
From our youthful start, to pick up crumbs along the track
That we dropped behind, with the scuffling of hands
In narrow alleyways where we stealthily stumbled upon
Protruding stalks, dazed, a dash of images and of plaited hair
With whistling blanketed by standing shrubs, and hushed up
Whimpering wails clipped by the clutters of colour, at last
Relief at rejoining the party, retiring within the flowery sanctum.

ii. Memoirs 

A stagnant serene mist of winter with wandering whispering
Sounds from hallowed haunted hedges, where the once raucous
Merry circus of noise gave the greenery life, but here there is
Nothing left to tell the drama of the wild-eyed guests
Except for the euphoric grinning from photo-snaps hanging
Abandoned, the portraits of gleeful ghosts along a paint-stripped
Wailing wall ushering you in, to the ghastly greeting of
Gothic cowls - the grim gargoyle guardians of the gate.

A frenetic fear of being unable to retrace your fleet-footed
Steps stalled by a familiar strip of filthy fluttering fabric
Forked like a flag on a battlefield desolate, dazed, peppered
By punishing frantic calls of retreat, caught in no man’s land
You tunnel through the torrid trail of trenches, rummaging through
The shredded slumped remains of erratic crossfire with a bayonet
Ready on the rifle’s edge, alert for the enemy left lurking
In the wake like a lone wanderer weaving amongst the fallen.

Constantly moving forward decisively left then right
A feverish adrenaline rushing through the veins
Engorged in rhythmic pulses of beating blood, your
Dilapidated legs scamper through the sunset shadows of
Decaying skeletal shrubs of spiny spikes protruding from
The crude fawn flesh of undergrowth, with tattoos of cross-cut
Scars etched into your arm from bristling barbs - a fresh
Stream of red and sweat, dashingly decorating the forlorn foliage.

A line smeared across the wallowing garden walls, and a
Frisk of fingers flicking the secreted paint in a poetic passion
Like a blind artist with a brush, intoxicated in a frenzy
Of visions from childhood madness of chaos and
Creativity, languidly collapsing in a wiry cage of roses, at last
You lie on the litter of frail petals, a flowery deathbed evoking
Delusions of love from a long lost wonder of a land once
Accustomed, alive under the same starry lit skies of the night.

25.9.10 - nk

He comes home though not everyday,

Suit and tie, on occasions loosely kept

Ragged while facing glaring lights from

Vehicles bottle-necked in a peak hour

Jam, the wailing of sirens and the

Phone call that she’s been

Waiting nervously at the door

Opening with the smell of

Dinner at the table that’s gone cold

A stiff embrace turned amorous

Awkward, perhaps a second

Too long for her to know, to catch

A scent of an affair, by the neck and another

Untimely advance and contrived curiosity a cover

Of denial, his false façade of affection

Broken, praises pushed away with red roses of

Betrayal flung to the floor, shredded

Petals left wrapped in weighted plastic

Guilt that temporarily arrests the feet while

The water seeps out the door, to the

Gutter swamped in torrential rain wishing

That the heavens hadn’t poured open

Disaster on the highway, the detour

Via another home, sweet

Shouting shuddering the pallid walls, almost worn with a

Foreign tinge that once buzzed afresh

With excitement, now a tiresome chore

To mend the cracks of yellowish stains

That reek of rubbish, a stale romance

Of rings embellished left unadorned

The solid hardened metal, unmalleable

Sharing empty cores; that desecrated hole felt

Rotting right through the night till dawn,

The condemning mass still clattering aloud on the roof

Creaking to an abrupt collapse of thunder

Though the crows were long awakened

By screeching tyres with steely splinters smouldering

And cursing at the tree ablaze which turned to regretful

Prayers at the sight of roses laid to rest against the roots.

25.10.10 – nk




Where have you gone my friend?

When the tides have turned

Powerless to control the waters

Wishing for a changing wind

And be swept away again to see




A distant outline of a graceful dress, the pale shroud

Of a translucent figure in a pirouette with uncanny

Sweet subtle mannerisms reserved that make you peek

Twice, hinting from afar but never close enough to realise

That strange relation in the form of flesh and blood,

Breathing in the life that emanates from an attachment

Pining for a privacy that they say is not meant to last

When the singing spirit will eventually return in due course

With its withering beauty returning restored to the

Heavenly realms to be timeless once more




Wading through water on the shore, no turning back,

Gentle ripples fading out to the recurring fold of waves

Awash with bright daylight, an emission of sparkling beams

Of rainbow honing in on the frolicking haze on the horizon,

A focused mind consumed by destiny reaching out like a beacon

Then drawing you near with an outstretched hand

On the cusp of grasping a hold of the flight of hair

Captured by the sight of something elemental, precious,

A glint of warm sunlight from that sparkle of a diamond

Hovering above the sands, impossible to capture that face




Trapped in the mind as the rays of the sun pierce the

Frosty windows of the early hours of the morning dew unable

To justify the feeling of a yearning heart and hands touching

With the soft stirring left undisturbed, and the opening of

Aroused reluctant eyes to see a face at rest, oblivious, finding solace

In the spontaneity of willed imagination wherever that might

Be, perhaps an enlightened newfound hope with each

Serene breath of the air, a solitary satisfaction, safe in the sounds

Of slumber, at peace in the world sealed submissive behind those

Eyelids closed, unembarrassed, in a halo of resigned contentment

11.9.10 - nk


Never



Shadows lean, then fade and fall

As though to tell the world that night has come

And all this time I’ve been chasing shadows;

The narrow paths merge and extend

Then become blended with the dark.



But there are times I feel I’ve lost my shadow

Free to fly like Peter Pan, and then standing alone

Something’s missing, unable to cast out silhouette

Puppets to swallow others whole, to be the vampire

Who longs to meet his absent mirrored portrait

And a whim that maybe I’ve

Transcended the habits of this falling world

Drifting in a manner unattached, noncommittal like a ghost.



Land



A tinge of melancholy at this sight torn by black and

White, a clash of hell like a mistress raving

At the fool who sprinkles shrouds of fairy dust

For her to chase the wind, to forget all in an enlightened

Cloud of platonic ecstasy but she

Laughs it off - the stubborn fool would

Have pulled the trigger

If he could feel her agony.



At the sight of scars,

Of scattered blood-stained mirrored panes

She flees into darkness draped with his shadow as a cloak

A haunted figure at the cliff’s edge pining for the

Ship with her lover to arrive

The hope of dawn misplaced, and greeted by

A battery of pitiless waves - the perpetual disfiguring of the

Face of cold stiff rock and with it

A test of patience and of will, waiting for a

Sunrise that will never come

As the cliff’s foundations crumbled away

Into sliding slopes of watery cracks

Spitting out wispy puffs of corroded dust.

27.7.10 - nk


A delight of measured touches, of fingers fleeting deftly -

A celestial strumming of tinkling tones tied together

Like a melody on a string, held by an angel

Timeless, a flow of music to tame the soul

And we used to close our eyes and fly

Among the clouds, and back we fell

In a splash of tiny water droplets

To hear the laughter turned to tears pouring down like

Rain from welled up eyes

The dripping and the pattering on the umbrella

Containing whispers from being blown into the wild, the flight of

Wind bristling against the glassy blue, a river beneath

The railway bridge that leads back home

Passing by stops many with stories of their own, but now

Too tired to recollect, you’re sound asleep

Each breath a precious purr, a hand gently caressing

Against a blushing cheek, and hair caught with broken leaves

Of gorgeous green from garden trees majestic

Framed in a gallery, observed from a distance with a gratuitous

Silence, the calmness of nature that lets you forget

How grave it is to flee the world, the picture

Hanging on a branch upside down with the sky below

And the bench above that dipped ever slightly

As though it invited us to stay

Huddled as the sun went on beyond the horizon

And left the low dim fire lights flickering

With an intent that only lovers know, but now at

A loss to savour the lingering taste

Of lips that used to tell me more

Than laments of how things used to be -

A time when I remembered how to play

Like fingers dancing on black,white keys

13.3.10 - nk

As a kid I wondered what it was like to be on the other side of the lake

And enthralled by the calm, wrinkled canvass, my eyes followed the line of ripples from afar

A fantasy aroused in a child’s curious mind, I started in innocent pursuit of what lay beyond

As I strolled and chased along the water’s edge, the dreamer’s flight

The trees were swaying, beckoning for me to stay within their touch, but I ran

Through thick, dense bushes uninviting, and along the wave of hilly ridges, finally



I found myself released on an open plain, a shapely curve, with its gentle slope

Littered with flowerbeds in fresh, full blossom, a sensual embrace by the flutters of foliage

The palette of crimson, of white and yellow, I inhaled, caressed by nature’s brush and stroke

Of fleshy stems and tender leaves; this gown of green that wraps an impregnated earth

Under a blanket of the glowing, ginger horizon with misty droplets of a sunlit shower



I peered across the glittering blue, the lake receding, still breathless

I know someone’s calling, and there I see a tainted image of my reflection and

The passing, yet penetrating eye of the sun, watchful overhead with its shimmering rays diffracted



I peel the petals and watch them drift away, carried by the wind, floating

Out from my shadow, a soul yearning to flee, an empty darkness stretching out like

A path over ruffled water that tells me

It’s time to go home