Outside of my journalism, I've always written poetry, used words to weave tales, tell stories, express feelings, cast an eye upon the world. Often I find that we are at our most creative during momentous events, be they internal, external, happy, sad, international or simply extraordinary. Most of my poetry is incredibly personal. If it resonates at all then it will have done its job. Published here are a selection from 2020.

Burn

I'm losing my way
in this darkness.
A spark almost out,
coffee spilled on a page
spread thin.

If I stretch hard enough
my hand touches something.
It's just within my grasp.
Until it's not.
I missed.

Perhaps I am doing it wrong.
I keep my jaw slack.
My mouth hangs open.
I try not to swallow, so
I drool.

I keep my eyes half-focused.
I use no muscles at all.
My entire being goes passive.
I do not participate. I do not respond.
Utterly inert.

It's what they want.
But not what I want.
To be hoodwinked by hoods
with explosives in their pocket.
No way.

To let up the pressure
is part of their plan. To
take the movement off the streets
and take it to the cleaners.
Thanks but...

No.

I spin, search for balance.
This life is a treasure.
I am trapped but still able,
capable
of freedom.

I'm losing my way
in this darkness.
A spark almost out.
But look there is fuel, I am light and
I burn.