On reserve.

Almost two months since the last tale I told,
river not flowing, ideas running cold,
a rush- rush of duties, creativity on hold,
new puppy to play with, a long way off old.

Baby granddaughter in her month number eight,
waving goodbye to her mummy at the gate,
rushing in a panic to work for her fate,
hoping fervently that she isn’t late.

Bottle in the warmer, loud is the girl,
puppy in the rain, wet ears all a curl,
researching best doggy-food, don’t want him to hurl,
Pretty choca-sprocker, precious as a pearl.

Don my nun’s habit and speak the tongue of Macbeth,
rush to the madding crowd almost out of breath,
losing weight rapidly after a dog walk on the Heath,
yet stay away grim reaper I’m not ready for death.

Autobiographical doodle.

My autobiography written today
a diary entry of poetic disorder
telling tales for my readership of two,
i fight the blues with written therapy.

Everything is coming at me at once,
nothing seems to sit in it's place.
I'm surrounded by chaos,
a muddle-upside-down-pot of life.







Reading of doodle dogs brings me a smile.
of Labradoodles, jack-a-poos and shcnoodles.
Then the education authority call,
bringing me back down to earth with a thud.

A house move should be joyful it's true,
new beginnings, a new start, a new home.
At last I am my own boss, i've waited for this.
Yet it's clouded in worry, oh red-faced am I.

Will I get the loan? If not what then?
Will I be able to afford carpets?
Where do I start with the garden, the rubbish?
Do I have cancer? Am I green? am I green?

What happened to the secret so easily embraced?
Why so negative, overloaded and knarky?
Remember how good everything is now,
not how is was, or could be or will be.

Sala Kayless.

A banana for Christmas and not just for life,
Dancing on rainbows without any strife,
Purring along with the goddess of cats
Now you can chase those mice and those rats.

You shall be missed, that is for sure
You could not be thought of or loved any more,
But you were too good for this world you see
You were needed elsewhere and you’ll be where you’ll be.

You are with your auntie, angel is her name,
She will look after you and guide you to fame.
Dance in cat heaven with newly grown wings
And listen to the alley cat as love songs he sings.

We will not forget you here on earth
And on a video we can still see your birth.
I cannot help it Sala but to have a little cry
Because I really wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

You were so young, so pretty and free
You were always loudly talking to me.
I’ll miss your voice and your magical feet
The half black, half pink pads were so sweet.

But I guess I have to let you go now
To fly to the cat god and before him bow.
Just because you’re not here you aren’t loved any less,
Our beautiful, sweet, adorable Sala Kayless.

Two Pillars no more

Television set leaps in my vision with images depicting the horrors.
Neck tingles and I hear the frantic tone in the reporter’s voice.
‘Do you see? Do you see?’
Bile rises in my throat as I realise the difference between reality and fiction.
I know not what to say to my friend when he feels nothing at the sight.
‘I hate America. Not Americans but America.’
I turn away from his lack of compassion and know that friendship is doomed.
He is doomed.
The predictions are coming true then. Is this just the beginning as they said?
The strange kind of calm that befalls me then is worse than the horrors of before.
‘Try and be of the world but not in it.’ New-Age, Zen advice but is that really achievable in the human state?
Survival mode sets in for always and since then I’ve been waiting.
Ready.
For what I don’t know.

The messenger of Emmessen.

You look like your son this morning, your make up is very good.
What do you mean, I look nothing like him, was that a joke?
Yeah it was a joke, well I thought it funny anyway.
Glob glob.

You are crazy, mad, you nutter, you doofus brain.
As mad as a kid eating catfood, or her mother moaning
that cats should be seen and not fed.

Gardens should be tidy with lush growing grass not
rabbit holes and dry mud. Barren like the childless, the only
growth here weeds.

Even so you can’t expect those rabbits to live for three days
In a hutch can you? For all we know, the pipes had been making that awful noise for years and driving the previous tenants nuts.

The rickety stairs!!!! The leaky shower
the rotton gate and broken tap.
The cupboards that all open the wrong way.

Don’t worry, trusty Pablo and his cancer sticks
will sort it all out. He can do anything.
Even stop the gate falling on the children?

So gorgeous looking male what’s your spell today?
Casting out and cleansing or barricading new protection?
You know how we witches love to fight over beef.

Much better than a chipolata with a lot less gristle.
The smell of cooking bacon wafts into your quarters.
I think I will stick to Veggie-burgers thanks all the same
greedy guts. Much less piggified.

For pudding I’ll take that juicy banana, it’ll be a fight to
the death for it.
The pentacle tingled as I said my goodbyes to vanishing
Immoral purposes.

I was mean to you yesterday though. Very mean.
Or maybe I wasn’t, I’m undecided, confused, troubled.
Story of my life.
Yet my hair looks quite good longish today.
Glob glob.

You were jealous of the past again. Jealous of things
Long since gone away, things no more.
Yet still I chased you across hills and valleys
In the dead of night.

I ran so fast I wet myself.
Then followed your voice back to the safety
of the enclosure. I enjoyed the walk.

There was a massive splat of puke at the train station
from some drunken buffoon.
It was gross.
Kooky.
Glob glob.

It was probably a blue smurf.
He drank so much milk that day
no wonder he was sick.

It was loud. I thought the sky was crashing down.
Can’t do my laundry now.
I have to have dry weather for that.
I can’t bring a massive binliner of sopping wet stuff.

You are glowing now.
That’s because you are the son of god.
Yet is any marriage worth celebrating?
Glob glob.

The angry god looks down upon the filth you talk.
My father in heaven will judge me harshly now he knows
I am no longer celibate and chaste.
Could you have said anything worse?

I gave you the moon and you invited me to dine
at my favourite table with my favourite meal.
Yet you did this out of the blue for no reason.
Why? Why? Why?

You were hungry I cry, you need your nourishment.
I can feel your need as the wind howls outside my window.
Dance then! Embrace the dance and wash your car.

Dance to the sounds of greased lightning!
Oh you went into the kitchen, there was no dance.
You dumbass.

Show me flamenco, show me your twirl.
You love it. It’s electrifying!
Fabulous, you are the bees knees.
You will become the greatest dancing nun.


I will take my leave of you now for I am
Hungry for food. So goodbye my love.
The thunder and lightning roared
and the day turned to night.

Glob glob.

Where is God?

Searching for god
Where is she hiding?
In the broccoli soup?
Or under the red perfume bottle?

Sometimes she is far away
And I walk, hand in hand with pink bum moon,
Towards my maker.
But just as I arrive at her home, she eludes me.

Crunchy cruciferous vegetables mixed with
Mung beans and chick peas for tea.
A child’s delight at a magnetic discovery
The woman’s exasperation at ‘emergency calls only’



Stick your new cam in and show me all there is to see
decombobulate over a towel on the chair
and do a Michael Jackson shimmy across
the living room, yay! What fun!




So where is god if she isn’t here today?
In the bath with the plastic yellow duck?
Sitting on the rabbit hutch amongst the rotten wood roof?
Or is she leaning towards your shedding?

The shedding of your ego.
A hard lesson to be learnt.
Let it go, let it drop.
Say goodbye to it and ye shall know god.

Love on a Laguna horse.

Floating on a moving cloud
A white flying horse named Laguna
Lay down the spider-web-fine bedding
And blindfolded, I feel my way.

I see nothing, only darkness; still I cannot see your face
But I feel you, your touch, your energy
Tantric Kundalini rising on an innocent early morning
Down a dusty deserted lane the cloud lands.

Lit by a full moon, I take a peek in the half-light,
Not allowed and you tighten my blindfold.
Together forbidden fruits become our diet tonight
Vampires loving in a frosted home.

Colours swirl in my consciousness and dreams become reality
The spirit angel smiles down from the moon and tells me ‘now’.
That which I have waited for moves down from its astral space
And manifests within the third dimension.

Oh your touch, your smell, your love
This is the greatest human experience,
This is why we come here as separate beings
So we may learn what it is to join with another.

Moon work your magic tonight
Healing soul mates who become one
Twin flames become vampires of the night
And together, we walk into the light.

Spells alighted, visualisations settle
wishes come true, promises fulfilled.
No need for looking forward down that future road anymore,
But love abounds anew, in the greatest place, in the here and now moment,
And that is where it shall stay,
So be it.