of our being

For some poetry is the place to be

An escape-


from the prism we have found ourselves in


the twirling

the whirling

the unrelentless blurring

of the lines

between reality and the alternate world(s)


A world that is scourged with

doubt with

pain, poverty,



but what we often fail to see

as we fall aimlessly is the beauty


the beauty of this earth, this home, this being


Us being


the highs

the lows

the love

the loss

The unspeakable woes

The unstoppable boughs

Of the branches of our being


of our being


Watch it sprout



And nourish

Our human need of being.

Of being.




Their Thoughts


Out of control

They cascade 

down this dark canvas



against the depths of despair

And lurk

Lurk behind the closing door

no rhyme or reason

can justify their

hat- red 

for race

for gender

for sexuality…


of being

For they are the prism

Stuck behind the kaleidoscope of their own colourless thoughts

The cage

They refuse to open 

To allow invitation

into the land of freedom of expression

for they keep schtum 

Afraid to run

To free- dom

Fear to be anything but ‘normal’
Relay the hate with speech

The future generations’ realisation 


is needed to not be

oppressed and overturned with overtones of


For all the things that they could be

that they should be 

That they would- have- been. 

Chiang Mai Street Art 

I love it in Chiang Mai, located in the north of Thailand; every time I’m here, I discover something different. On this journey- in the cooler time of January- I discovered some interesting street art.

Some animal art:

Some smiley faces (and not so smiley faces) art:


Some make love not war art:

And my favourite, some portraits-with-a- twist art:

So if you happen to find yourself in this cultural northern city then keep an eye out for the streetart.


I’m your friend she protested

As she supplied my tears with the little emotion she invested

I’m sorry I repeated

As she lied and cheated

And tore me apart

Right down to my achey breaky heart


I’m sorry was all he could yell

As he heard my heart knell

For the sorrow he caused

And the way our love paused

Bitter minus the sweet

When a lover and friend meet

And for you don’t exist

To make their lust twist

As they fondle and laugh

Ignorant of the sound as your heart halves

And thirds

And quarters

There’ll be no breaking of waters

Or ring on the finger

We cannot linger

In this not so humble abode

We once called a home


Just me on my own

Strong although lone

Like a wolf in the night

Let the moon be my sight


But I’m blessed to be surrounded by family and friends

Who’ve helped my heart mend

Who’ll stick by me till the end

And never part ways

Till the ends of our days


And to God up above, and all around

I throw my hands up in praise, unbound


And you, what have you got?

Was it worth throwing in your lot?


For I am happy; I am safe; I am free

And I am being me, me, me