lightning doesn’t strike twice
two feet and two knees that nobble occasionally,
and chatter like teeth in an arctic freeze.
Together in harmony.
Now since the rain clouds
washed those other clouds away,
and you were drained.
When you breathed a rainbow,
golden soul,
and drew the route of you in the window,
pain.
Primary coloured moments;
exposed in chrome,
caught in time,
no remains.
But then the stars and superlatives came to play.
And the memories fade.
When the night first spoke and the sun laid to rest.
He spoke of Moondust and mistrust of the Government.
They told him once,
and they told him twice,
that science could only be defined by what we know.
So he searched the stardust on the seabed,
and seeked what he sowed.
Oceans away from home,
only to piece together tiny shards of shattered stars,
with those telescopic time machines that he used to own.

The
Apathy
You
Feel
Will
Make
Fools
Of
Us
All

Synchronitities

It's 11.11 again,
AM through to PM,
Just to see you again,
In all your simplicities.

11.11 again,
Now tell me what's the relevance,
When I see you there,
Lying in sentimentality,

You got the 411,
Telling me just about anything,
That you can breath,
Steals your rationality.

11.11 again,
The sentence that won't ever end;
Caught up in a comma coma,
Blinded by the clarity,

11.11 again,
I seen it on the TV screen,
What does it mean to you & me,
Simple sequenced synchornities

Glass splinters, shattered glazing.
Splintered instances, intimately unfazing.

A moments glaze through a monacle,
Omnipresent oracle in a sorrowful tone.

Opaque and oppressed, stressed,
bitten nails, blood drawn from the cuticles.

Beautiful touch, abrasive in nature,
But still smooth, still so smooth.

Held tight, aphyxiate the the trachea,
take my breath away, until the final gasp.

Dig the grave with broken nails and blunt instruments,
Clean up the mess, pristine, no evidence of the incident.

All you wanted was my wifi code

Why try.
I could see the veins in your head ready to explode.
Always on the line,
Trying to find sweet circumstances left behind in text messages not fresh ink.
Always on my mind, through computerised images and jpegs -
I just wanted a bit of you to save for myself in memory.
The remedy for running out of time and space,
And as I let you into mine,
The first thing you asked me as you looked me dead in the eye after a hard drive home,
was, 'Nate can you tell me what's your wifi code'

Conspiring behind
those confinements
of morality,
justice and sincerity.

A suppressed philosophy,
born from the social elite;
Political correctness at it’s peak.

We seek truth in absolution.
As they round the troops.

In Confucius dreams,
the wisdom is hidden
within the aphorism.
The definition defined.

"Do
not do
to others
what you
do not
want don’t
to
yourself”

From provincial son,
to exile in the sun,
policies,
followed by
astrologies
patterns,
and swallowed by the black holes,
of unexplained notions,
the nature of the soul
and all it’s inhabitants.

Oh sweet Mandarin,
where do we begin?
It’s torture to breath,
and it’s gorgeous to sin.

Symmetrical Syria we sympathise in synchronisation of sirens and sadistic nature.
Those man made craters, aren't the force of Mother Nature,
They depict only hatred and a tyranny statement,
That says our generation will never see peace,
Just pieces of you,
Torn and decimated from targets based on generalisations,
As if a minority defines the whole population.
We seen it before in Iraq,
Now we're back for more with pre determined attacks.
When they asked first,
They said no at once,
Cue the worst still yet to come,
They asked again,
And they bent and broke,
From the rubble comes a white smoke,
But there's no new pope,
And there's no hope,
Just none.

The headlines say ISIS,
But the mind might miss the fine print,
The truth is inside it,
But we're not inclined to find it,
Propagander at its finest, from the highest to those that digress and make our minds up for us in the name of democracy's mindset.

If it's not in your name, then who can we blame?
Those men we empowered time and time again?

Watching news, with a second of thought,
Of course you believe it,
Who needs a secondary source?

No remorse,
of course.

Just corpses and a sea as blood as far as the headlines will breath.

It’s happening again,
initials on the fingertips,
names of ghosts on the tip of tongues,
the linch pin swan-song.

A mysterious blue,
frosty peaks,
melt to reveal a supernatural guise,
small time news,
spreads like wildfire
through the forest of honesty,
respectability nowadays,
is a foreign policy.

Underneath the layers,
and the lawyers suits.
Hide shadows in the caverns,
a melodramatic pattern,
good men and bad men,
shatter in a symbolic surrealist twist.

Blink and miss it,
the patter of the birds sing,
a quirky beginning and a murky ending.

Who knows what the day brings.
Who knows what the day brings.

Let me be the first to say,
I'm not sorry for the words I said.
They may of been said in haste,
and put you in your place.
Enjoy the taste, of your own medicine.

Bittersweet quitter,
I could eat you for dinner.
There could only be one winner,
and I can't see you celebrating a victory today.

Take me away to the place where we doubled down,
your humbled frown,
in your dressing gown.
No one else around,
the screams in the backround,
no one will backdown,
at least for now.

I'm still not sorry,
Sorry.

When you appear to disappear,
a near miss in the atmosphere.
The patterns clear,
and what’s happening here,
Is the same things still,
after all these years.

Talking **** again.

Now you're back again,
acting as if nothings happened,
and,
your trying to laugh it off again,
as if were best friends,
but I can’t pretend this won’t be a repeat like last time.

Telling lies again.

When actually,
this is just your favourite pastime;
you’ve been missing in action for weeks.
No message to check i’m ok.
No call on my birthday.
Now you’ve got the cheek to call on me,
and fall on me,
as you can’t stand on your own two feet.

Drunk again.

So don’t act surprised,
like you don’t know.
When you phone you meet the answering tone.
It’s too late too atone now that i’m all grown,
Maybe you’ll find out now what it’s like to be alone.

**Never again.

Where else do you guys post your poetry other than here??

auteur

i write the same thing,
in a different way
with the slightest twist,
in melodramatic patterns,
through a spectrum of moods.
Always ambiguous,
again
and
again.
back to the blank page.
Starting once more,
again
the same game,
played
in the same way,
played
time and time
again.

Wait a second.
Steady hand my right hand man.
That must be the effects of the Diazepam.

One in the chamber, one in the chest, one in the body and one in the head.

One for each of his family members,
picture him dead, picture perfect and pick up the pieces after the death.

.....if there's anything left.

I'm right over here.

rat
a
tat
tat.

Onomatopoeia..

What's the matter dear?

Nothing to see here, but bullet ripped flesh and civilian fear.

No need for tears.
No need for tears.

Keep composed. You'll be home soon. In your own tomb or personal hell.
Waking to the sounds and screams of mortuary shells.  

Reload, you know how it goes.

Decomposed in a body bag, forever alone.

A long whsispered monologue
Curling up in a ball
The fresh air of winter morning
Sleeping with the lights on
A first and final passionate kiss
Tip toeing down a hallway
Conversations at twilight
Eating chicken wings with nothing to clean your hands
Searching for lost treasure.
Waiting for the rain to come.
Watching a snowflake melt into water.
The first crop of the season.
When somebody hands your wallet in,
And the money still in it.
Reconnecting with old school friends.
Visiting foreign shore and ancient city's.
Building a business, building a brand.
A trip to the Tate national.
The Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan and Neil Young,
For starters.
When the night won't seem to end.
The sound of your voice in the morning.
Breakfast in bed, fresh coffee
In a wide open space.
*For all those times I took you for granted.

Hold me down in straight jackets,
dress me up in dinner jackets.

Hold my hand as we meander through the crowds,
squeeze my fingertips as we fly through the clouds.

Release your grip on reality,
lock lips and tongue kiss until we reach a moment of clarity.


Look at me differently with each glance,
epitomise your heartbeat with the footsteps of dance. 


Step on my toes and break my bones...

This could be our last chance for romance.
This could be our last chance for romance.

When these guns salute
they’ll need roses
when the metal pops,
stemmed from the truth until the last petal falls off,
but theres no romance in the commotion of the outspoken,
left broken torso twisted into specific yoga poses,
body’s go missing of the scene like a mystery, it’s hocus pocus,
This is a cold one (cauldron) it’ll get mixed until the remix surfaces,
on track here to defeat your purpose,
crush the trachea so you can’t breathe,
they got no Eyedea (idea)
Everyday, this is one of the seven deadliest, akin to a swarm of locusts,
they lose focus in the colloquial informality of the death chosen,
expose fossils fools (fuels) make them leave earth like a Diplodocus,
awoken from a deep sleep with deep heat to the exposed wounds,
so many bodies left in old tombs we gonna be needing some more room soon.

1,2,3,4

What do you 1, 2 be 3, 4
They 1, 2 be 3.
What 4.
Why do you 1 2.
I just want 2 be 3.

What do you want to be free for.
They want to be free.
What for?
Why do you want to?
I just want to be free.

The blade runner,

The blade told me to calm down,
Stop seeing red.
That moment lasted momentarily,
The blade ran across me like an ice skate,
On grooves already used before,
Protruding into the skin and floor,
Momentarily,
As we see red.
Then replaced by new cells,
Or related like ice plains,
Like a new day,
Coincidentally.
Scars remained
and like my palms,
Lifelines that tamed the desires
To be,
Famous,
Or aim for the place where I won't wake up tomorrow.
For the moment has passed
And I'm shattered like glass with tiny pieces of blood drop pouches that decimate the surroundings as they fall to the floor,
I'm sure;
I never asked to be the blade runner.

Bluesologist

Why take those shots if might miss,
******* with a new age blues protagonist,
I've never missed a shot,
Steady aim, remember the name,
Nothing personal just a part of the game,
The same game where you made your name back in the day.

I got those blues in the curves of the feathers in my hat,
And I got those blues in the black soles on my shoes,
Sent right through the body,
You can't miss me,
But you can't see me,
Electricity baby,
Bringing them back down to earth,

Wired.
If your ever home alone tired,
I'll keep you company in those lonely nights by the fire,
Until you retire into the hollowness of tomorrow,

You had all those secondary colours on your palet,
Kept safe in your palace,
But I'm primarily blue and you can't mix it up,
Those colours didn't come true,

So we just remained blue,
As I do,
Consistently blue,
Permanently true,
What you gonna do about it?

Tell me,
What are you going to do?

Allure to me with your bonescent,
sweat stench brought me closer.
Bone structure kept you here.
In my radius you stayed.

So nearly an artist, fickle.
Dearly departed, I miss you.
Brittle.

And I just kept saying no;
I couldn't handle you.
You must've miss understood the tone;
outspoken through the mandible.

Now I was out of my mind,
Insane at best.
Out of the body experience from inside the mind of the cranium.
Actually you were caught in cult of her anatomy.
First born in the ossification of you.

The next time he spoke,
awoken a sentiment.
The exoskeleton protected what was hiding inside.
And we decayed decayed.
His skeleton exposed; he grew on me like bones of a child.

And I've known his scent still sticks to my shell.
Under my skin and underground,
in the catacombs.

But only bones sent me here.
Just to snap back to reality

i changed a £50 note

into pennys for you;

but you still want change.

It took me long time to start writing again,
so I started by lifting my pen.
Keep it simple i said,
and in a second I was inspired.

At one point I was frightened I might not write again, or find the time.
I was in a different place and the moment changed in a second, and in my mind time was mine again.

Life took over and work just became me. Some choose to and some have to, it's a crying shame.

Now I'm close to where I need to be,
So I can be free and enlightened and back to the moments that I'll always hold closest to my heart and soul.

So those targets and goals were temporary,
but it turns out it's not what you have but who you are that remains permanently ingrained in your memory.

Golden fool,
The remnants of Calypso like ghost towns,
After the love has gone.
A rush of adrenaline,
A touch a sentiment,
Combined forces of a gorgeous remorse.

Time takes it toll,
On bones,
A brittle tone exposed,
Holes in the ground
And holes in our chest,
Where a heart used to beat.

The steam engine,
In its prime,
Looked never ending on that train tracks spine,
Minds twisted in a deluded guise,
That couldn't call time,
In the time of our lives.

Tell them the one about the skeleton son,
Tip toes protruding through the soil where we dug that day,
Under the beating sun,
The sweat dripped like honey,
To the body stuck in the mud,
Absorbed by the rotting corpse,
But lifeless in form,
Forever more.

Forever yours,
Calypso town x

And nothing written in this book is true,
and those lines of pursuit ain’t nothing but old news.
And you know nothing if you think thats the case,
and you know nothing at all if you can’t put a picture to the face.

And now you find theres no cure for the lonely,
and you can’t find the evidence to show me.
And nothing you can say could change me mind,
and a love like this is so hard to find.

casually breaking your heart

i was walking the line,
inside those guideline confinements you marked out on the pavement in chalk all those years before.

I still see them x ray vision,
when i sneak by nostalgically,
less and less as the years go by.

I didn’t know at the time,
but it seems I was casually breaking your heart.

Gradually time heals real wounds and feelings,
exposure to the pain grows alongside the overgrowth greenery.

Picture the scenery,
and all that you mean to me,
as i’m casually breaking your heart again.

So long to the honey drip,
another quip yet to come.
We emerge ensured bacteria,
surrounded in the Somme.

please please take my diseased body,
exoskeleton broken irrelevance and and put the pieces together,
as a hobby,
to resemble a body,
you own my bones, and my capillaries are filled with foreign grapes,
bottled up, squashed and refined mistakes.
the levee breaks,
how does that **** stained fluid taste,
you druid fakes, robotic flakes, for heavens sakes,
the lessons break my heart.
or at least bends whats valuable into a malleable state.
crossed borders and crossed words,
word search and cross words,
finding me is just a doing word.
the symphony is simplicity, bittersweet or so i heard.
your patchwork, the match works when it strikes the corrugated sides of my insides.
starts a fire inside like a colt 44.
you've heard it all before,
but the sound is so obscured,
prevention or cure, i'm not sure anymore,
the sea shore is so far away,
that lands no longer a plan of mine.
but whenever you're around,
it's steady ground or quicksand.
my minds, mine. abused.
IQ through the roof,
but still sheltered from the storm by you.
born again like i'm passing through,
the ages created by the frustrated players,
of the game of life.  

Tonight, i'll sleep.

If i find you in my dreams then you belong to me.
it's not wrong to be,
in love with you.
it can't be.

c(h)ancer

You took her final breath away.
She never stood a chance.

everyone cheats.
its easy to be easy,
and hard to be real.

it takes a man to be true.

theres no one but you.

******* coma

Cool
Calm
Collective,

Constantly
Caught
Consistence,

Common
Cold
Conflicted,

Colossal
Conduct
Clinic,

Climate
Cold
Conscription,

Condemned
Coma
Victim.

Come dine with me,
lets dine, lets dine today.
We'll get lost in each others eyes as the conversation fly's away.
Of course I'm yours,
I'd wage wars for us.
I've burn't the main course.
You take my breath away,
baby.
Lets get a takeaway.

You told me you needed a hero,
as I poured you a glass of Pinot Grigio.
I see through you to the bones,
your skeleton is everything to me.
You gave me the skeleton key, eventually.
I made copies so I will never lose you,
and I can always get back in,
even when you're not there.

You get the door and I'll get the plates.
Pour your honesty on top of me,
I can't get enough of your acquired taste.
Different each time,
indifferent to my trouble mind.
Together were one of the same kind.
My perfect 10.

Could of been your fool,

It could of been me,
or it could of been you,
I never knew it then,
but I could of been your fool.

You had this attitude
that was pretty rude,
I pictured you in platitudes,
but the latitude cut right through
the altitude,
and you just slipped right through.

Now you long for the truth,
and
i’m,
just
long in the tooth,
who knew then, that,
if we didn't pretend,
then I,
could of been your fool.

Flying above you
where the air is thin,
there in;
I cast the final sin.
Simply defined,
it looks like you win,
again,
&

I’ll always be your fool.

you say you paved the way for me,
with a bicycle on the motorway,
and a lorry on a cul de sac,
thats one way for
the light to illuminate the dark streets.
apparently,
but then when pieces didn’t fit together,
like lego blocks as kids,
you left me in my teens,
when I needed you still.
and ever since
still water runs deep,
i drowned without you around.
when simplicity was a gift horse we stared
in the wide open mouth.
you stayed still,
i moved south.

we no longer talk often.
I gave up on you,
after you replaced me so hastily,
when you gave up on me,
and i thought you hated me,
what will be will be.
maybe.
I saved my best trick,
for the encore.
you wanted more from the performance.
it dawned on both of us that,
the camels back broke from
straw stories told over
and over again.

now you look at me strange,
when you look up and see me at something,
you never asked me to.
old bitter blue,
eyes,
wide,
surprised that i made it -
without you
almost frustrated,
i never doubt you too,
i just did it with or without you.
so i won’t shake your ageing hand.
respect speaks for it self.
it’s a two way street.
Not a cul de sac.

Some roads you go down and theres no turning back.

Proper pushing my luck holding my phone like a flair in the bath,
Protected like rubber but the ducks on it back.
I hear the echoes, confused as it sounds like a quack.
Seems that it's true that they had the last laugh.

Depression Sessions,

Without making light of those trapped in the dark,
that setraline sentimentality exposed modern art.
Theres a cavity in the canvass,
despair and distress,
decayed daily until theres only just the crevasses left.
I digress,
your highness.
High times, crash down finesse.

What did you expect?

Now you're acting as if theres nothing left.
When in three days you’ll make the same mistake again.
Just to take the pain away.
Or so you say.

But you’re not depressed.
Stressed, maybe.
Tired,
jaded maybe,
but the lights not faded you just took the wrong road that day.

Now there’s no way of coming back.
You’re not cool for that, this isn’t a cul-de-sac.
You keep taking me back and I just relapse.
And collapse after the session,
ready for the sentence.

Repentance a breath away.

Born to be mine,
Baby innate,
Borrowed in time,
I've made my mistakes.

Sleep in vicinity,
Pretty dreams,
I won't wake you from sleep,
Keep dreaming about me
And I'll keep thinking about you.

Goodnight butterfly,
Cocooned in my arms,
Released from your grip,
But not from your heart.

Good morning freefalling,
It's time to come round
What's the point in getting high,
If we never come down.

I don't want to live for ever,
Never,
To clever for that.

I don't want to work for the man,
never,
Signed up for that,

I don't want no steady life
Never,
Endeavoured for that.

I don't want to find treasure,
Never,
Got enough of that.

I don't want to look better,
Never,
Too weathered for that.

And I don't want to go sleep tonight,
Never
No, too leathered for that

X

d-r-a-g-o-n

dragon lady,
rain candy,
breath fire,
red candid
lips slip,
kisses through
open mouthed,
wide eyed,
startled smiles.

It’s been a while,
how you been
starting over? ,
spreading your
wings,
spreading your legs.
reptile,
I like your style,
Wild hair,
peach, bleach;
mon amore.

So
serpentine,
certainly mine,
mythologies
evolved
in our separate minds.
Nowhere near
our spirit,
refined
in the clearest
mist of forgotten days
we left behind,

and,

Life
drag’s on,
nothing
left
but you
&
mythologies.

Perfection.

*who knew

Shun individuality,
encourage conformity,
rejected, shunned;       out of place.

Put on your mask,
lets stray outside...
into the slipstream of the mainstream,
and drown in the shallow waters.

Reveal Yourself,
ego dissolves when at peace like a Berroca.
Bring you back to life,
in a spliced moment of clarity.

The ego is society,
your face looks familiar,
but I can't put my finger on your name,
quietly,
we tip toe on the footsteps of the raconteurs,
and forget those that meant the most at moments.

Don't let the mask slip.

Lay my head on a pillow of sentimental dreams.
Clouded vision, misguided moments.
Nostalgic memories, dispensed endorphinemachine.
Grudges held in high regards,
counterparts the spectrum of emotions experienced.

Token gestures of b r o k e n spirts,
r u g g e d features gold lies within it.

Within movements the snowflake melts in foreign temperatures.
History repeats itself,
things will never be the same again.

A beautiful eulogy,
an anthology of my soul.
Let it speak on the page in a delicate manner.
Channel my essence and bottle my compassion.
Make it happen.

Label it love.

Experience my being in your sensory safe house.
Whisper sweet nothings until they sweep me of my feet.
Hone in on my reason with the precision of multicoloured laser beams.
Lie to my in the format of lullabies.
Blow up my heart, let me be your doormat.
Actively break me, erupt and explode.
Eradicate your thoughts, erase what you were told.

Hang me out to dry -
let the crease decieve you.

Let me take over,
but don't let me defeat you.

And these dreams will be the death of me.
Broken sleep &
relentless lethargy.
I'm out of control,
so I'm told.
I've slipped outside of my soul,
or so I'm told.
My nose runs consistently,
Yet I don't have a cold.
Now everything hurts,
and yet I feel so cold.
REM dream sequences;
play me on repeat.
play on repeat,
Everybody hurts too but they carry on,
Won't admit defeat.
Not me,
I bend under the pressure,
Malleable,
& then break what's,
Valuable.
I'm weak at the knees,
alieness in alloness of stress;
Please let me rest,
Stop stealing my shut eye by looking in to mine,
I walked the line,
But crossed it,
No going back now I think,
I shudder each time I blink.
And in dreams I believe I could be happy,
Or at least not so sad,
Wishing to feel those feelings
That I've predominately lacked.
Now in dreams I wait to see a GP
in reality,
So he can endorse these feelings into clarity,
Prescribe me patronisingly with 50mg of setraline;
"I'm sure alls not as bad as it seems"
He says so candidly,
Whilst I'm sat here,
can't even speak,
trapped at the mercy of these endorphinemachines.

If i'm not a product of my environment,
what defines who I am?
Exactly.
Precisely.
I do not know.

What am I,
without environment?
A matter of circumstance?

Without a ball,
how can I play ball?

Just kicking stones across the landscapes.

Without a concept of the Ocean,
how can I understand the notion?

I only believe in what I see.

I speak English, as my mother tongue -
because I was taught from being born.

If I was born in India, I'd speak Indian,
maybe English too.

Surely this makes me a product of the environment.

How can I know of TV,
but a tribe member knows only of a spear.

What were exposed to is defined by our environment.

Tell me i'm wrong.
Tell me about predestination.
Tell me about the soul if you wish.

I think you missed the point.

If I was born in a cell, I would know only the cell.
I known what I'm shown and that much I can tell,
that i'm surely nothing more than a product of the environment.

Or maybe,
just maybe,
**the environment is a product of me too?

Mountains moved with thoughts
We stood still as the land shook
Handshakes won't break our cause
I see through those crimson gloves,
That velvet touch won't fool us all.

We move in crevasses,
We'll never fit into those confined environments
End it all, end it all before the earth rips us apart,
Craters remain where we once stood fingertips glanced, fleeting moments,
Give me one last chance.

We told them we were protected,
Projected on to those fallen walls,
Broken bricks and misplaced concrete tricks,
We're stronger than them all,

We told them we won't fall,
As we looked to the stars,
It was only then we realised our backs were perpendicular to the floor,
Alas, I couldn't wait there anymore - but for you I'd spent eternity beneath those dark clouds amongst strangers and go to war.

Again.

One year on....

My Nana has unfortunately passed away after a valiant fight against cancer. In this passing we have lost a lovely woman who meant the world to our whole family. Me and my cousins affectionally called her 'straight Nana' as when we were younger we were lucky to also still have our great gran around who we called 'curly Nana' this was based on the fact that Nana Pauline has Straight hair and her mother had curly hair. In all my years I've have never heard even a choice word said against her spirit or character which is truly a rare commodity in this day and age.



She lived a full life and had three amazing daughters and a step son who she raised as her own. Thirteen grandchildren one being myself and five great grandkids. Thankfully we recently all got together and she was able to see her whole family together for the first time. I could see how happy it made her that day to see the legacy she had created and more importantly that we all were in a good place before she left us for the final time.



'May the wind always be on your back and the sun always upon your face and may the winds of destiny carry you aloft to dance with the stars '



My mother was very young when she had me so the support that my Nan gave her as I grew up was vital. Without her me and my mum would of struggled but we always had a safetynet of support that we could rely on that was invaluable to us both. I know this notion is appreciated by my aunties and cousins too. We all share our own individual special memories as well as collective moments too that we will never forget. I would appreciate it so much if anybody has any memories stories that they wish to share as I know they will help us all as a family as we cope with this difficult time.




Cara: ". I once mistakingly rang there (labour club) instead of nanas house looking for mum, nana answered anyway, and passed me on to mum! Good job I got the wrong number! 



Her husband John is a great man who was with my Nana for her last 20 years. He is a part of our family and I hope he knows that we will always be here for him and I look I will look forward to his Sunday Dinners in future and having a beer in the back garden in tribute to our usual routine. I know I'm not alone when I say we are always here for you and we love you
and respect you so much. If you ever need anything please do not forget that.


She had a a gift for poetry that was exposed when she made her way to Facebook. I would always giggle at the little dittys she would loving, yet embarrassingly post to our Facebook walls with affection, nailing little pockets of the personalities of the protagonists each time she wrote them. Reading back some of these small potent poems know I smile as a proud Grandson and I'm happy we will all each have our own little prose to refer to in the future. 




From Moat Road, to Winterslow Avenue, Clover  Croft and finally your home in Widnes - I'll always remember each place fondly for reasons as they represents different periods of my life as I've grown up. My blue bear and parties, your back garden at Moat Road. Snowballs and magic tricks, teddy football at Winterslow Avenue. Clovere Croft was a place of refuge in my teenage years, your naughty rabbits and old school cooked dinners and misbehaving Malig. The dog who you took in and never left your side. The Labour club, where you worked hard and played hard! The beautiful garden you have created that will grow and remind us of your colourful nature as the flowers grow and bloom each year. I know John will tender them with care and think of you with a smile as he listens to smooth FM and remembers all the great times that you both spent together there. 



'if winter comes can spring be far behind?'



As a woman she was truly beautiful, a short stunning blonde. Her three daughters each different in ways but each a  reflection of there mother in their own unique ways.  Looking at them now they are all testament to her gorgeous genes and gentle, kind nature.



Nana was the most amazing crossword completer I have ever met. I was consistently surprised by her ability to finish these crosswords as she watched daytime TV and it was one of the small funny things that made me really proud of her. She filled in the gaps that was synomomus to her life.

Each of her daughters have fought through hard times and she provided a back bone of support that helped them reach the stability and happiness in their lives today. I know she said to me personally how she had comes to terms with her fate and that she was especially happy my Aunty Julie has found happiness with a good man like her sisters. I feel this represented the final piece to the puzzle for her and as usual she was able to complete this before she left. She took great solace in this fact - and so she should. It made me feel a small element of contentness when she told me this during one of our last conversations together.



To all my cousins now is the time to step up and being there for your mums. I have no doubt you will be.  I am proud of you all and you all have a special place in my thoughts. You all have great qualities and potential and it's been a pleasure to watch you all grow up into fine young men and ladies, even mothers.  Please never hesitate to contact me if you need to talk or share your thoughts. I know we will remain strong as a unit and we will get through this tough time together as a family!


In closing I want to thank my Nana just for simply being her. I will hold you in a special place in my heart forever and you will never be forgotten. Each Christmas I will toast you with a Jack Daniels (Nan would always buy the guys a JD related present every year) I will never taste that whiskey again without a passing thought for you as it passes my lips. I know I will not be the only one with this sentiment.

Even as a close family - I still hope this brings us all together and that we use this experience to better ourselves in our own personal ways. Fight hard to reach your potential and stay true to your essence and the person you desire or have chosen to be. It's these times that expose what really matters to you - embrace those thoughts and do not lose them in grief or forget them in time.

I am so proud of you.
Goodby Nana. I love you.
Your Grandson,
Nathan x

Imagine the mind as a tree and the brain as a seed.
The mind is made by the brain as the tree is made by the seed.

Imagine routes growing amongst hostile environments,
akin to thoughts that germinate in the mind of another.

A thought formulates from the combination of accepted truths that spirals out of control like the tree and it's roots.

Yet these moments are only revealed when the earth is disturbed,
if not they still grow but remain unheard.

Thoughts forceful through pastures,
it's in the nature of the living to overgrow and expose like an explosions aftermath.

Repressed and unchosen, but even the best storms pass,
give life to the grass and the elements that surround sound.

The seasons change like the reasons to live again.
The bony tree branches shake away the secrets of human beings leaving footprints underneath that intersperse the leaves.
Like a strong breeze.

Imagine a human being as a growing tree,
naked underneath without the leaves;

The leafs fall in time and reveal the skeletons of the human mind forgotten thoughts of friends and enemies both left behind.