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

you listenin’ Lord?

if you’re gonna rain
then rain
chuck it down
let it pour
cuz right now
rain
is what I’m longin’ for

go on ‘n do it
rain
don’t tease me with
storm clouds
need an excuse
to stay inside
away from crazy folk in crowds

if you’re gonna rain
then bring it
gimme thunder
gimme lightning
wash away the thoughts
of a future
that looks frightening

don’t fuck around
just rain
for a mighty storm
I’m hopin’
show me you’re
still in charge
let the gates of heaven open

copyright © 2020 KPM

an army of angels

they’re coming:
every day their numbers swell
warriors to guard the faithful
from this living hell

carefully bred
specially selected
moving among the living
undetected

memories of love
are their calling card
we welcome them
in these times so hard

a father, a husband
his sister, her brother
a stranger’s child
a devoted mother

they’re coming:
the numbers continue to grow
an army of angels
with hope & blessings to bestow

copyright © 2020 KPM

expiration date

I know, I know:
people die
& we may not always understand
WHY
for me
personally
I’ve never liked saying
GOODBYE
so this is why I weep
it’s the reason that I
CRY

I know:
one day
my time here will
EXPIRE
for me
personally
much of life has been
DIRE
yet I have the hope of heaven
opposed to
HELLFIRE

I know, I know:
that one day
my heart will
MEND
& for me
personally
I must learn how to
BEND
so with faith I’ll pray
for this pandemic’s
END

copyright © 2020 KPM

doubt & discourse

where are you, O Lord?
the planet is sick
with a virus more lethal
than any ice-pick

where are you, my God?
the earth grows blighted
your people are ignoring
advice experts have cited

they’re clamouring for pubs
longing for jet-fuelled holidays
while others mourn their loved ones
with eyes swollen & glazed

“but I need a haircut!”
“I wanna go to the gym!”
lives needlessly lost
due to another’s selfish whim

& where are you, my Lord?
as the faithful call
are you watching
your creations downfall?

fear not, my child
for I am here
in the silent skies above you
so cloudless, so clear

I am present in the rain
making the flowers you love grow
I smile at you from the faces
of everyone you know

I’ve not abandoned you
so have no fear
for I am the Lord your God
& I am always here

thank you, dear Lord
for reassuring me
as I toil in my garden today
thanks for my blessings I offer to thee

copyright © 2020 KPM

we’re all in this together

it helps to know I’m not alone
in my tidy little home
yearning for a hug from my best friend
day drinking while I wait for this lockdown to end

it helps to know I’m not the only sad soul
longing for work to make them feel whole
wishing to throw off solitude’s chain
tired of the telly to which I’m now chained

it helps to read I am not on my own
on those days when I weep or have a moan
unable to control the thoughts in my mind
longing for a button to allow me to rewind

for now, I watch the warm spring
revert to bad weather
wishing I could believe
we’re all in this together

odd, how I find comfort watching GMB
news anchors who admit they feel as bad as me
the grass in my garden growing & green
as people worldwide wait for a vaccine

so I make another drink in my tidy cozy space
thankful I’ve awakened in this safe, familiar place
those who think they’re in power? no one’s fears they can allay
better to trust a higher power to get you through another day

copyright © 2020 KPM

the last birthday

life goes on
it’s in the footsteps above my head
the metal clang of the mail slot
a sound which I now dread

the daily tasks I perform
around my tiny abode
the hum of the bus to Perth
as it rolls over the road

life goes on
with each new bloom on my plants
the washing that flaps on the line
my t-shirts, socks & pants

it’s the canned laughter
comin’ from my TV
it’s the food I sometimes cook
that evokes your memory

life goes on
though you have said good-bye
no longer can you comfort me
on those days & nights I cry

yes, life goes on:
you’re at peace with God on high
life goes on,
& somehow, so must I

copyright © 2017 KPM

escape route

when misfortune appears
with its unwelcome shape
that’s when she finds
she needs an escape
the comfort of
a celluloid hug
a technicolour
high-definition drug

she can only handle
so much stress
so on those occasions when things
dissolve into a mess
when her life is as bad
as life sometimes gets
she takes a mental health break
with her beloved box sets

since childhood
she has loved TV
it’s a fact she admits
honestly
there are those who’d argue
that the boob tube is bad
but she loves those memories
of watchin’ telly with her dad

the Fisher family
on Six Feet Under
restore to her
a sense of wonder
she can laugh at their exploits,
which banish her doubt
reassured that everything
will work itself out

she shoves away
all thoughts of defeat
when engrossed in
Homicide: Life on the Street
inspired by the way
Frank always gets his man,
she resolutely develops
her own new & better plan

still, there are those times
when she’s suffused with dread
when the darkness invades
her heart & head
at those times
she takes to her bed
& fights her demons like the crew
on The Walking Dead

she resists the temptation
to wallow in self-pity
with help from the girls
of Sex & The City
by their trials & triumphs
she is transported
restored in her belief
that her problems will soon be sorted

so she’s unemployed just now –
it’s a temporary state
she refuses to fall for
the black dog’s bait
she has God,
she has friends, she has family
soon her life will return
to what it ought to be

for now, she’ll keep submitting
those job applications
sure she’ll soon be successful
in achieving her aspirations
& for all those times
she’s beset by fear in the night
there’s always a box set
to set her mind right

copyright © 2016 KPM

escape-routes

get thee gone, Satan

there’s a monster that lives
behind her eyes
drowning out her good thoughts
with unholy cries
it buzzes in her head
like so many bees
distorting everything good
she sees

long has the monster lived
behind her eyes
spewing clouds of doubt
into her sunny blue skies
he brings bad dreams
disrupts her sleep
causing her – at odd times –
to moan & weep

the monster loves his home
behind her eyes
where 24/7
he plots her demise
but she’s blessed with
many allies
their power refutes
the monster’s lies

there’s a monster that lives
behind her eyes
I’ve got one, too,
so I sympathize
his delight is in falsehoods
which he spreads all day long
by God’s grace
I can resist
I stand tall, I stand strong

copyright © 2016 KPM

get-thee-gone-satan

 

the fourth time

y’all ken she loves
her bonnie Dundee
but in November it ain’t a place
she likes to be

grey skies & cold winds
means she can’t sit in her yard
& gardenin’ season’s ended –
she always takes that hard

her new jobless state
saw her go on the dole
each visit to the Job Centre
destroys a bit of her soul

every day she’s online
sendin’ out her CV
kickin’ aside that black dog
with his attendant misery

she’ll not give up –
that ain’t sumthin’ she’d evah do
her persistence (& God’s help)
will see her through

copyright © 2016 KPM

People queuing outside a job centre