the boy in the Pink Floyd t-shirt

hey you
Pink Floyd pretty
alone & aimless in this empty city

I’m alone
& lonely, too
bet together we could find sumthin’ to do

lemme take you to
my secret place
it’s a no-fly, no-hate space

it’s sweet – solitary
with no one to mind us
& a gate we can lock behind us

can’t make no promises
about the weather
but I’ll gift you with an angel feather

& we’ll both be safe
from humanity’s hell
behind stone walls where goddesses dwell

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open to offers

it’s a Marillion kinda morning
sunrays skippin’ across the sky
bedsheets snappin’ on the line
winds that kiss my face goodbye

wagtails havin’ a bath
make ripples on my tiny pond
coffee in the garden
recalling memories so fond

my guy reads his latest book
air resounds with nature’s song
on this shiny Sunday mornin’
feels like nothin’ can go wrong

copyright © 2020 KPM

only my window box is winning

take a moment to observe
the flowers in my window box
the way they hold each other up
though each plant has had hard knocks

each bloom, each plant is separate
growing at a different rate
yet somehow they coexist
ain’t that lovely? I think it’s great

beautiful, the way they mingle
the way they manage to get along
in such a tiny, defined space
they sing a harmonious, scented song

look at the flowers in my box
free from hatred, immune to greed
sunshine, water, a little love
‘n they’re happy – that’s all they need

the flowers in my window box
they all grew from a tiny seed
if only mankind were more like them
realising we’re all part of the same breed

we could kill off all the bad stuff
truly make a new beginning
sadly, assholes are in power
only my window box is winning

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only my window box is winning



what use have we now
for clocks?
racy ticks ‘n random tocks
aimless walks along empty docks
timed dryers
spittin’ out single socks
while novice gardeners free
newly dug beds of rocks
& tired single moms gaze helplessly
on dwindling food stocks
as the Jesus man in City Centre
keeps rantin’ from his soapbox
& the rest of us binge on
Hulu & Netflix
safe on our sofas
behind three door locks
awaiting a vaccine
to save us from the Covid pox
that continues to throw up
to lives once consumed
with ticks & tocks

copyright © 2020 KPM

a blether with a blackbird

‘n just what are you doing?
fancy stoppin’ here?
you’re welcome to do so
I promise you’ve nothin’ to fear

please pardon my attire
all these holes in my shirt
this is what I like to wear
when I’m diggin’ in the dirt

move over a wee bit
you might get tangled in my feet
what’s that – you’re feelin’ peckish?
have a dig – plenty bugs to eat

so what d’you think of my garden?
I can sit out here for hours
I so love this little space
think I should add more flowers?

wait, what’re you doin’?
I thought you wanted to play
wait a sec, come back
please don’t fly away

copyright © 2020 KPM

feminist polytheism

bless you, Mother Nature
‘cause you have never let me down
despite the current confusion
your miracles abound

so I thank you, Mother Nature
for the unexpected rain
you healed my sunburned grass
it’s now a green ‘n glorious plain

you’re my hero, Mother Nature
you banish my encroaching gloom
warm smiles you send through sunshine
making all my flowers bloom

I’m so grateful, Mother Nature
for everything that you do
your love made my safe space flourish
without this garden I’d be so blue

how I love you, Mother Nature
your soul is good – it’s pure
you’re one being I can count on
in times dark ‘n unsure

copyright © 2020 KPM

idle thoughts

frequently she wonders
about other populations
their thoughts on the virus ‘n hate
now pulverizing nations

so many tenement buildings
four or eight flats to a floor
where chats on the stairs have stopped
now people scurry out the door

endless rows of duplexes
front gardens colourful ‘n neat
small faces peer from windows
as Mummy makes something to eat

in the gleaming multis
reaching for a heavenly sky
women water plants on balconies
listening to songs that makes them cry

worldwide there are houses
where unseen people dwell
old folk, single folk, families
making their way through uncertainty’s hell

copyright © 2020 KPM

a Dundee Sunday storm

it was 16:05
when the sun came out
a huge smile crossed her face
she almost gave a shout

her sweet peas had survived
Mother Nature’s latest storm
‘n it smelled like Sunday dinner
inside where she was safe ‘n warm

another day of Skyping
all the people that she loves
cyber hugs ‘n kisses
cell phone’s electronic shoves

how did mankind end up here?
she struggles to understand
the hatred, the dissension
hallmarks of a once proud land

copyright © 2020 KPM

depression confession

is that my black dog talking?
or is that the way I truly feel?
with the death of normalcy
sometimes I can’t discern what’s real

recently I had a birthday
which – surprisingly – was swell
thanks to my partner, my friends & neighbours
I dodged a lockdown birthday hell

so it’s hard to understand
why I now feel so bemused
why I’m so desperate for sleep
why my heart feels sorely bruised

it could be that I’m homesick
God knows I miss my family
perhaps I hurt because my homeland
is now a total calamity

I admit I’m worried about money
I imagine others are, too
living off my overdraft
is never a thing I wanted to do

the daily headlines are horrendous
too many innocents are dying
what with folk with fucked-up priorities
‘n racist politicians lying

or maybe I’m just worried
about what is yet to come
for the many marginalized
who’ve yet to hear the freedom drum

I give a shout out to those folks
who tune in here each day
but when I’m sad or fearful
all my words just fade away

so apologies for my silence
I do not mean to be a jerk
writing is usually my solace
but just now, it does not work

copyright © 2020 KPM

depression confession

chocolate donuts

circlets of chocolate joy
waiting to be eaten
will she defer this delight –
can temptation be beaten?

so pleasing to the palate
while reading a book
she sneaks 3 out the box
feeling like the lowest crook

later she’ll devour the rest
snuggled up in her cozy bed
watching a horror movie
a chain-saw removing a head

such childish jubilation
at chocolate melting on the tongue
gastronomic memories
of simpler days when she was young

copyright © 2020 KPM