When you thought you were gonna drown
You wrapped your arms around me and pulled me down
with you – I was suffocating, trapped in somebody else’s misery
Withering, no oxygen, poisoned by the fumes of hypocrisy

The slow erosion of everything I thought I knew, an acid so corrosive
I could not even perceive – grasp – how one could be so manipulative
All the things I did for you, you never tried to do the same
I was trying to save you, from you, I must have been insane

I’m the mirror you shattered with your warped reflection
You play the blame game but the deceit, the deception
Was all yours, drama of your own making – raging, not caring
Due to inability – twisting, distorting, lying, stonewalling, never admitting

You have no empathy – but oh, the mastery of perfidy, the cruelty
The gaping hole at your centre – sheer and utter lunacy
Is not anything I ever want to deal with, ever again
There’s no more pain, yet I bear the scars and the stains

We are the makers of our own destiny – fuck the stars
It’s down to us, not the Cosmos or the God Mars
I grabbed happiness by its slippery tail
Fought it, won it – end of this pitiful tale

Painting: “Echo and Narcissus” by John William Waterhouse



I am the cliché driving off into the sunset
On my way to that mythical unspecified place
Where damaged and tortured souls conglomerate

You’ve seen me in many films
I’m positive I made you weep
Inspired you even, this stuff’s pretty deep

But baby, I have to tell ya
That sunset leads nowhere fast
Stay put, work it out, you can’t run from the past

Okay, so this came to me while looking at the sky this evening in the car: one joke about driving off into the sunset, a remark on how many movies have ended that way – and I came up with these modest but very cynical few lines. Don’t blame me, blame the sea and sky for inspiring such cynicism…(well, ok, you can blame me a little)

Thought of the day


The closest pub to my house is tiny and very old-fashioned. Everyday, a *mysterious someone* from the aforementioned pub writes their “thought of the day” on the board standing outside. Said thought is usually funny, it can be clever or interesting – but occasionally it makes you think with a statement that’s worth discussing in the pub garden with a bunch of friends: debating for hours over drinks – one of the greatest pleasures of life.

Pagan Fire


Wood crackling, flames licking and devouring
scraps of virtual notes –
words and emotions now redundant,
from a past no longer relevant
Letting go and letting it all burn
So I could somehow emerge
I didn’t quite dance naked around the flames,
but in the air was a pagan flavour all the same
I stayed and waited
until the colours faded,
until this blazing power
had turned into a whimper –
for the surviving, occasional flashes
to be no more than ashes
Purged of everything that didn’t matter –
I was strong again and ready to conquer

Image credit: pixshark.com

50 shades of Grey

Yesterday, just before sunset, we chose to take a walk on the beach
It was windy and cold but rather beautiful and very atmospheric
Between the sky and the sea, there was so much grey –
grey everywhere, ‘infinite grey’ we called it
That’s when we decided to reclaim 50 shades
because right here and right now were many variants of grey,
infinitely more beautiful and also much better written –
although there were no words
There were powerful, enticing, dangerous and sinful greys
that put Mr Grey firmly back in the shade
Bad and trashy literature has its place, but when it’s the only literature you’re exposed to
You’re better off looking to nature for thrills and inspiration