On Reflection

Mirror, Mirror in the gloom, Staring out from this dark room Tell me please what you can see, Where in the future I shall be?   ‘Do not ask me’, it replies, ‘There is a film over your eyes that filters things which may well be, and shrouds them in anxiety’.   ¬© Tom Tide … More On Reflection

Out In The Open

Something wonderful happened today. It raised my spirits immensely, and I want to tell everybody about it. I found a small, oval stone with the letters ‘OTR’ delicately penned in Turquoise on its surface. Intrigued, I held it in my hand throughout my walk and googled the letters on my laptop at home. As I … More Out In The Open

Cathartic

A beautiful print of many, many birds in flight hangs by my bedside. It is a perfect circle of airborne seabirds. A maelstrom of wings that swoop and soar. Countless, delicately drawn souls. The canvas is crowded and difficult to take in all at once, and yet it brings me a deep sense of calm. … More Cathartic

Oh Dear Me

I look at me three decades ago. Or you, rather. I’m unrecognisable now. Every cell thrice renewed. I wish I could take your head between my hands, Look in to your eyes and say ‘Your mind is wired strangely. Talk to people about it, in all its frenzied energy’. I would say ‘Swim every day. … More Oh Dear Me

Beacons

This is a poem about smoking. Burning through a pack of Ten. Ten moments in time. Ten streams of conciousness. Ten pauses.   The first? A smoke screen hiding inner fears. The second blasts the fear, yes every trace. Third one ¬†blows up clouds that squeeze out ashen tears; Fourth a signal, steeling jaw in … More Beacons

#22pushups

22 pushups is hard. Very hard. I glibly accepted a nomination to take part, thinking ’22 pushups in one day is nothing. A doddle. Loads of other people do it’. It is anything but a doddle. I am on day 7, with 15 days to go. I have 330 remaining. Every Single Pushup Hurts. For … More #22pushups

Springs Eternal

Every burning fibre of my being yearns To take your weary face between my open palms, Lift your blinding shrouds and gently Tilt your head heavenward.   Yet I would not, though it pains me. Nay, not for all the world. For you endure, graceful one- Strong, despite every and all of the odds. Unaided. … More Springs Eternal