Western Light

Western Sun

Delft in the press of an abandoned cottage

A lone sacred heart picture on the wall

Western rain

Our Lady Queen of Heaven in an abandoned bedroom

Where the Queen of the house hasn’t slept since 1939

And the baby she never held

Died this week aged 78

But stilled, the twinkle fresh in his eye

Now dimmed

She would have loved that nature

We don’t know the modern name of what took her away

We forget arranged marriages

We forget hardships

We forget hard work

We talk of legacy and heritage

and in these concepts

Don’t allow ourselves to fit in the everyday

Western light and arts of fire

On hillsides

Hearth lit 

Heart beats 

Across the world


Make a Trip Back Home…

Do you travel to learn soak in places

Or to escape the life you have made with your money

Faces that pass you by can you read their story?

Or do you not care? 

Crescent or whole moon – you choose

It waxes and wanes anyway even if you stand still

But you don’t

You chase the possibility of change that never happens

Because you never give time for the idea or the moon to ripen 

For the lungs to finish filling with air and exhale their contribution

You are gone or in between your head is down working towards the next escape

Escapism = using the number of allotted breaths you have

And never changing anything except currencies

Another country, another city break, another bottle opened that fizzes

Another ‘I deserve this because it has been three weeks since my last’

And still the world turns, and people walk to wells and people stitch the latest fad for Amazon to sell

And in between we swing our legs on bridges and dream of the vast possibilities of northern lights and cranes that fly home

And then we do something for someone else and see them smile, or walk a bit further or sing a song

And still the world turns and people sleep outside and queue

And we say there is an inevitability about life and how it is lived and we think we live it

By booking a trip

That we work hours of hate to afford

When really we could just take a walk

Breathe our council estate air and look at the fields beyond or the water of the canal that shines

Testament to youthful work and enterprise 

When animal and human, the last vestiges of a partnership existed

To make life happen

And still the world turns, and people cycle down canal paths to their jobs through the graffiti bridges by the fish basking just under the waterline in the summer or by the ducks dozing on ice in winter

Maybe you make memories in the sunshine

And that is what they are

A memory bank 

You work to make a memory bank within a world where nothing has changed, laminate humanity and plan it on a spreadsheet

Bite your own flesh to feel alive

And you could have made a life that made the world a wonder every, single, day