on the cusp

earlier ‘n earlier
the light in the closey comes on
less ‘n less does she need an alarm
now she awakens well before dawn

more ‘n more
she works to subdue worries in her head
harder ‘n harder
it gets, leaving the safety of her bed

scarier ‘n scarier
the world grows day by day
later ’n later it grows
redemption is fading away

copyright © 2020 KPM

extra, extra

once upon a time
when folks were not so dense
when kind smiles were the norm
back when the world made sense

we rejoiced in summer
sun was yellow, skies were blue
& those we voted into power
knew the right things to do

some things may not have been “perfect”
for many people money was tight
but the daily news headlines
did not disrupt our sleep at night

no rising jobless numbers
no free-range fear or stress
now normalcy has vanished
how’d we end up in such a mess?

rampant racism, a global pandemic
fake news that breeds distrust & fear
there has to be an end to this
a better future, with rules fair & clear

we can offer each other comfort
though denied the luxury of touch
we’ll not survive unless we realise
we need each other so very much

copyright © 2020 KPM

Gaia raging

hey, I get it:
the reason why you hide
why you’d rather stay inside
people can’t be arsed
to really look at you
so what else are you supposed to do?

I feel ya:
the grief at being underrated
daily unappreciated
unsubtle warning
displayed daily on the page
still no one listens, so you rage

I hear ya:
you’ve had enough so you show it
‘n people everywhere better know it
I’d fix it if I could
but I’m just a paltry party of one
a superficial soul, who – like you – has come undone

copyright © 2020 KPM

observant skies

from the tops of old buildings
mossy gargoyles grin down
graffiti on the sides of fences
head constantly swivelling round

old finials and spires
mix with ancient weather vanes
hills in different shades of green
house heather borne of cold spring rains

she walks the cement pavements
tap-taps on cobblestone
followed only by the shadows
in a town where the sun once shone

copyright © 2020 KPM

asking for a friend

such a lovely autumn day
yet it brings no relief
anxiety comes creeping in
a loathsome sneak thief

the queues for food banks grow longer
every day their numbers rise
still those in power ignore us
to them we are no prize

office cleaners, wait staff
the people who raise your kids
they follow the rules you set
do you care that they’re on the skids?

teachers, medics, store clerks
bin men, doctors, nurses
too many people with too much knowledge
with ever-dwindling purses

on the street all is quiet
are we in stage three or four?
is the vaccine coming soon?
there’s no clear answer anymore

copyright © 2020 KPM

my splendid solitude

time to get comfy now:
remove the earrings, the socks, the bra
gonna go play with the blender
make somethin’ that needs a fancy straw

got movie munchies in the fridge:
prawns, olives, brie, paté
new batteries in all the remotes
I’ll watch movies for the rest of the day

think I want some hot food, too
perhaps some Chinese chicken wings
no need to cook from scratch
when there’s a freezer fulla things

oven set to 180c
bakin’ evenly, cookin’ steady
pillows ‘n blanket on the couch
‘s Sunday evenin’ – I’m so ready

all alone yet not lonely
I’m no “spinster” – no old crone
I think of myself as lucky
despite a lockdown spent alone

copyright © 2020 KPM

angel feathers

in my wee Dundee back garden
angel feathers lie scattered
freed from my mother’s wings
hope on days when I’m just shattered

she sees me when I watch the news
observes the way I weep
she watches me pray for peace
each night before I sleep

she’s sitting on my shoulder
with every poem I write
her love is always with me
every day, every night

so many angel feathers
in my wee garden in Dundee
a welcome sign that the Mom I miss
keeps her loving eyes on me

copyright © 2020 KPM

now would be a good time to surrender

pots topple in the wind
dying leaves forlornly dance
gonna mix shit up tonight
might as well take the chance

inside is manufactured heat
a dead animal fries in sizzlin’ grease
cabernet or chardonnay:
which will give the most release?

no one sees or hears us
no one’s listenin’ – o so sad
you didn’t love us enough
that’s why we behave so bad

nights get darker early
our shadows grow long ‘n lean
television makes no sense:
what do those people mean?

the lies ‘n the deception,
they just go on ‘n on
we’re expected to ignore it
settle down – it’ll soon be gone

no one wants to see or hear us
no one’s listenin’ – it’s too sad
but let’s maintain that status quo:
‘s no one’s fault that things are bad

copyright © 2020 KPM

September fancy

the sun is out today
‘n so is the wind
the wind thinks he’s my lover
his cold lips love to kiss my skin

the sun competes for my attention
with heartfelt embrace so warm
the wind reacts jealously:
he starts blowin’ up a storm

I sip my gin ‘n wonder
why do they battle over me?
the world’s so wide, so vast
they must have better places to be

copyright © 2020 KPM

past the breaking point

my watch must be broken –
is it really just two o’clock?
was the weather forecast right,
the front door – is it locked?

sunshine toasts my skin
it’s baked a golden hue
a colour seen as threatening
small wonder I feel so blue

‘s bad enough to be in lockdown
virus lurking outside the door
since the ghosts have shed their sheets
hatred multiplies by the score

I’m mad, I’m sad, I’m worried
filled with dread when I think of November
best to give my fears to God
try to enjoy what’s left of September

copyright © 2020 KPM