One and one and them

He pursed his lips together
and tried whistling,
the hiss of his attempt
hitting the walls
and splintering
into shards in the air.
Through the window
he saw a man struggling
with his shopping bags
and knew with certainty
that if he had been outside
the day would have ended
differently.

Beginning, middle

It was through the window of his car
with the heat turned to red
that he saw the town that November morning.
Cold air clung to grass,
undisturbed since night time,
the sky a blue that exists only in Winter.
He saw five boats on the sea
and imagined each filled with people
he hadn't met
whilst an old folk song on the radio
told him about a man and a camera
on a Grecian Isle.

The last time I was there the sun was so hot it burned holes through my t-shirt, illustrated

Cassette, illustrated

The world was on top of him

He tied the fringe of his scarf,
wrapped tight around his neck,
into plaits
and chewed his gum
in time with his fingers
until it lost its flavour
and became just a foreign body
in his mouth.
People around him spoke
of a future that was alien to him,
their voices sounding like music.

It was when he saw the Empire State up close that he knew he could only walk so far

He had been quiet,
hoping that silence
was an anecdote to size,
all the while acutely aware
that worlds only grew with time.
Reaching for his dictionary
he looked up the word 'terror'
and laughed without realising.
The sound filled up the room
and left piles of debris
below the window.

It was an effortless sort of love that led them to evening

The sky was chalky with lilac
and the trees glowed green
as they walked in unison,
their arms tied together like rope.
Rain fell and sang patterns
on the ground.

My Christmas Cards

My Christmas card designs are painted, printed and ready to be sold and if you can guess which movie each one is from then I might give you a penny.

They're on sale at Made With Love, The Ceramic Painting Cafe in Hastings or, if you're far away you can email me and I'll make sure you get one if you like.

Stood in blue jeans he thought of forever

He had only climbed the steps in the park,
now covered with a skin of wet orange leaves,
to see beyond where the trees covered
and to remind himself that all he had seen
wasn't everything there was.
His hand held tight to the key in his pocket
belonging to a door he hadn't yet found
and his mind walked somewhere off ahead,
chased by cold evening winds.

Outside a boy and a girl played hopscotch on the road

He sliced the brown envelope
back and forth between his fingers
until it caught on his skin
and tore it clean open,
watched as red oozed from the papercut,
slow at first,
and formed a pool in his palm,
its sting dancing through his inside.
It was an impossible love
that consumed all he was.
He heard the sound of next door's telephone
and counted the rings.
There were seven.