Tuesday, 30 April 2013

Cardigan Castle

30 Poems in 30 Days. National Poetry Writing Month. April 2013.
Day 30.   

A haiku to finish this challenge and to celebrate another. There was a great achievement and cause for celebration in Cardigan this month --
the revealing of the walls of Cardigan Castle.

Walls of stone rise up;

nine-hundred years of history,

shouts to open sky


Tuesday, 23 April 2013

Resting muse

30 poems in 30 days. National Poetry Writing Month, April 2013

Day 23

I am still here, just, but the muse is having a break, so two haiku today.

Stone jar is empty,

good words have all taken flight;

fallow lies the muse.


Light shines through crystal,

so rainbows circle around;

but they can’t be caught.



Thursday, 18 April 2013


A Poem a Day, April 2013, 30 poems in 30 days
Day 18

Gales keep sleep awake,

bangs and whistles in your head; 

dreams are quiet space

(When it gets tough, there is always a mediochre haiku in there somewhere. Having come this far, don't want to miss a day!)

Tuesday, 16 April 2013

The truth about Steve

National Poetry Writing Month, a Poem a Day, April 2013

Day 16

There are between 500,000 and 600,000 people who face losing their benefit as Disabled Living Allowance is phased out. And their partners and carers will lose allowances too. Steve is one of the half million.

The truth about Steve

He’s an ordinary bloke
with a tired looking face.
He worked for 35 years,
in a regular kind of place.

As a type one diabetic,
he should have been on the sick,
but he lied to get his first job;
he told them he was fit.

And at the age of 53,
just a couple of years ago,
he had to finally begin to see
that he couldn’t do it any more.
He didn’t want to stop,
but some days
he couldn’t get up off the floor.

Now he lives with constant pain
burning in his feet and hands;
neuropathy’s to blame.
Some days he can’t stand up;
sometimes, he can’t stand - anything.

Morphine helps with the agony,
but it messes up his memory,
and he forgets how to do a load of things,
including how to laugh.
But he does remember that his income
is being cut in half.

And he knows more stuff
he would prefer to forget.
Like how easy it will be now
to get into serious debt.

And how his wife looks after him -
day, night,  never a break.
And when they cut his DLA she’ll lose
her carer’s allowance -
It’s the double hit that makes his heart really ache.

He calls them
the greedy grabbing dictators,
those who will take away his DLA.
And Steve remembers what they say:
 no one can be sick for more than three weeks’.
That’s the rule, you can’t have more,
you’ll have to work or live with being poor.

Steve is clear about one thing more,
he can’t see what end is in sight,
but he does remember how to cry,
because he knows he can’t begin to make it right.