There's this light, really hollow expanse in my chest
and it fills with electric stars, each blinking rapidly.
I'll wear my jumper, loose bottoms and socks
and I am engulfed by a sharp breeze, fleeing in
through our open back door.
I know that smell. It's cold and fluttering and full
of purpose. And it pats my face as I breath it in.
I think how easy it could be, and would have been,
way in the past to believe in Gods and who prove their
power by rylling up the weather.
Blowing in a storm.
All thunderstorms smell the same, wherever you
are. And they each speak in heavy voices, rattling low.
I suppose it's on you to look inside at your grievances
unpaid to them. But I simply love the change.
The power in the sky that strikes and rumbles,
and the waiting, oh the waiting...
As the clouds openly fuse and grind darker, the smell
of the thunder growing thicker and bounding about.
It's like a miracle how fast it happens, how much
energy it feeds to everything.
Time that was the insect looking at us, we are obnoxiously
slow. Is now us looking at the insect, who is amazingly
fast. Until...
There's a moment when that energy reaches its
capacity, the sky squeezing. And you wait
Dddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd
The rain is unleashed. And sound everywhere explodes!
Cause it's heavy and it's coming fast.
Hopping back to the door, I sit just inside its frame
my face stretching with glee, because everything
around me and inside me feels unimportant,
forgotten, under this display.
Small, sitting in the door way, the wind flicking
sprays of water your way. I count in between
the lashes of lightening
One Mississippi
Two Mississippi
Three Mississippi
Four, imagining the maker of these grizzling
static sparks. The ground, the sky, my heart,
pulsing.

Light pooling on a surface
And breaking through in beams
Hundreds of passageways allowing this spectacle
To fill one room with sun
Shining, flickering dust particles
Batting against your skin
And this same air swollen with a thousand
                                                  beatin­g insect wings
Which to the light all softly cling
Mashed in colours that the glass carved in
Flying shapes that join the buzz
And spiralling greens lumbering towards the sky
Resting, hunched and pressed against the glass
So shuddering with life they seem to sigh
Solid, light stone in colour
Is the current, wrapped around its base
River like and over flowing
Is this place
The great outside pointing in
Like a planet inverted or a doctors blue box
Tended, and yet containing a mind of its own
It is mightily over grown
And that is the way it should be

Crowds of people big and small
Flowing through our canvas walls,
Their words bashing, one loud hum
And those, who are hidden from them
Me and the other strange folk
The ones who breath fire instead of smoke
Now, wriggling into sparkling skins
And rubbing foreign powder on our chins
We cackle and spit,
Excited we'll fly and flash magic
For delighted faces who
Are wild and soaring
And the big animals, softly snoring
With one eye open and the croc is crying
And the strong man might be dying
But the lights are beaming
And the rest of the world is seeming distant.
We march together out to capture wonder,
Of which you can't manufacture.
Sprinting, leaping, galloping, fast.
Rolling, dancing, smiling, aghast
People everywhere, with shocked wide eyes
Consuming hungrily every one of our lies
My heart is thumping, thumping in my breast,
Soon I'll reach my high, rock nest.
Feet pinched and back straight
All mouths hang open. Wait,
I fall.
Caught. Tight around both ankles,
They thought below I was sure to mangle.
I fly through the air with the look of great ease,
I'm the daring young woman on the flying trapeze

Train rides and trains fare
Hurling over hills and through fields
And we sit together, collectively
Calmly, reading, typing, talking
A train community

The train jumps with apology
When your legs twitch or meet
Muttering sorry, barely lifting a head
To mark a general unease
At the close space we all paid to use

Seeming so personal to share a seat
With another who finds a song to choose
Over conversation with a stranger
Shared time
We share daydreaming

Hot and absent
With blurs rushing inwards and out
Flying up stairs that curl and bend
And a constant shout of noise
My head spins, my eye sends a glance
Purposefully at many signs
I can't chance too many wrong turns
My brain turns to wine, the smell makes it ache
I follow toothpaste coloured overalls
In a number of steps to counters and beds
Heavy and tense, both fall on me.
I clutch a card that I've read over again
Over again
Again I am lost
Every wing looks the same
I know that time costs the same as fresh air
Window panes here only open enough
To let in a fly
And a breeze not a cough
Rattles my heart when I near you.
You appear small and soft
Not much of you there
In that armchair propped up by pillows
Where we kneel by your side, holding your hand
And that equivalent draft billows in green
Life from out there prods and it lifts
With us talking to you,
Quiet and spent and wistful
The alphabet brings nothing new
We walk out pondering, my arm through yours
It is just us two

Changing my mind, changing your mind.
how is it that feelings alter without us knowing?
Something that means so much, is forgotten
and I can only imagine
a curtain
a veil
a road
a sky
a place where it goes, to lose its intensity
and when you catch up, when it comes back to you
it is weakened, like tea
I wonder where that absent place is
I reckon it's time
other things mattering more, instead of less
like which biscuit to choose,
to have with your tea
bourbon
digestive
hobnob

Oh, I would like to be a giant and fill
the dips and lunges all hills and mountains make.
Stride heavy and far in only a few paces and often
find my head in a cloud of clouds when I stray too high, breathe the air
deeper. And be much more a part of the night, that black blue
if I stand on the horizon, I'll make a mark much stronger than you