I wanna go to Dobbies
drink whisky in a pub
kick back with my student friends
in their wee flats in The Hub

I wanna go to Broughty Ferry
walk barefoot on the beach
but busses ain’t a good idea
so that wish is out of reach

I wanna briskly walk
down a crowded Dundee street
hear the sound of other voices
the pavement taps of other feet

I wanna a girly night
with my Scottish bestie
four weeks of lockdown
has me growing testy

I’m tired of watching others
through a tenement window
lonely walks into town
in the cold spring sun’s glow

I miss my family
I wanna get on a plane
I need to see – I need to hug
my sisters & brother again

feel like I’m gonna I’m cry
feel like I’m gonna scream
how I wish I could wake up
& find this was all a dream

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

12 hours

her alarm clock is not set
still every morning her eyes open
she envisions other people
lying in bed like her & hopin’

that today is the day
they will turn on the TV
to a news anchor announcing
that the world is virus-free

although she is not hungry
she eats some bacon & cheese toast
silently she says grace first
aware that she has more than most

a solid roof above her head
clean hot water as she showers
books to read & films to watch
to help her while away the hours

she even has a private
tiny, outdoor space
where she stands surrounded by flowers
sun on her head & wind in her face

the indoors & the outdoors
she freely bounces in between
waiting for the miracle
that will end this quarantine

copyright © 2020 KPM


still grieving,
worried about her overdraft
she feels unsettled,
in need of a life raft

she’s drinkin’ too much
hours she spends, sleepin’
awakening to discover
in her dreams she’s been weepin’

tormented daily
by Satan’s inquisitor
all alone she longs
for someone to visit her

it’s been a week
since her mobile rang
& everyday she jumps
at the mail slot’s clang

copyright © 2017 KPM

72 hours

I took a walk
on the beach tonight
passin’ people drinkin’
by a campfire’s light
there were stars in the sky
they shone so bright
& two of them were my mother’s eyes

under a cold dark sky
I walked in my homeland
listening to the waves
as the kissed the damp sand
still feeling that last touch
of my mother’s hand
beneath the gaze of her starry eyes

someone wake me from this nightmare
I’d like a reprieve
this new reality
I don’t want to believe
my tears mingle with the lake
as all alone I grieve
thinkin’ of my mother’s eyes

copyright © 2017 KPM

the lonely little pumpkin

there was once a lonely pumpkin
whose eyes burned bright ‘n wild
he’d been purchased by an old man
who was anything but mild
the old man carved the pumpkin brutally
a truly frightful face he styled
so hideous was this visage
it scared even the bravest child
“woe is me,” the pumpkin sighed
“I’ve no one with whom to play
cuz my face is such a nightmare,
all who gaze on it turn gray
an’ yet my face belies
a heart gentle an’ gay
if only some courageous child
would come an’ sweep me away!”
just then there came a little girl
she wore a mask of scars
with thin limbs pale as moonlight
an’ haunted eyes that shone like stars
“I like your mask,” the pumpkin said
above the noise of passing cars
“’s not a mask,” the girl said sadly
“my parents beat me with iron bars”
“that’s sucks!” the pumpkin gasped
“the pain that you’ve gone through!
I sense we’re kindred spirits –
we’re both outcasts feelin’ blue
I wish that I could somehow help,
but I dunno what to do
surely there’s a special place
for folks like me an’ you”
“maybe,” the child responded
with a deep an’ woeful sigh
“I tried to love my mom an’ daddy,
though they daily make me cry
“let’s just leave,” the pumpkin said
“somewhere there’s joy for you an’ I”
thus the little girl picked up the pumpkin
an’ they vanished with no goodbye
copyright © 2014 KPM

lonely little pumpkin

the love of her life

the love of her life
carried her books
chased her, laughing
along the banks of shallow brooks
gave her the best of
the cereal box toys
an’ let her into the fort
he’d built with the boys

the love of her life
held her hand in the hall
wrote their names in a heart
on his locker wall
defended her when other girls
sought to pick a fight
an’ called her after dinner
every night

the love of her life
proposed at the top of a Ferris wheel
the tiny car rocked
with her delighted squeal
both sets of parents
did approve
an’ soon they settled
into a marital groove

the love of her life
gave her many happy years
children, a home,
smiles, support, tears
his death seemed an
but now she is alone
which she does not want to be

copyright © 2012-2014 KPM

the love of her life

the Queen of Castle Order

in a verdant valley
betwixt two hills of green
there dwelt a beautiful
& solitary queen

her domicile was marked
by a lush flower border
& she was known to all
as the Queen of Castle Order

the castle gardens were filled with flowers
lined in military rows
no sign of weeds or garden tools
or an uncoiled garden hose

her castle was small
but immaculately kept
& beyond its borders
no chaos or cruelty crept

the townspeople loved her
in spite of the fact she had nothin’ to say
& she was quick to smile
though she kept everyone at bay

every day she’d leave the castle
beautifully gowned
nodding & smiling benevolently
she’d walk through the town

& the people smiled & waved
making sure her path was clear
it was their way of showing
that they held her very dear

still, the people wondered
for she was no ugly crone
why was she always silent?
why did she live alone?

unbeknownst to them
their Queen had made a vow:
she’d never speak or love again
no way, no how

for once there’d been a boy
she’d loved with her every breath
but thoughtless words she spoke
resulted in his death

thus it was that like Cassandra
her words would never be believed
so she made her vow of silence
though doing so left her grieved

she realized over life
she had no control
so she created a world of order
to soothe her lonely soul

inside her castle
where no one had ever been allowed
she’d made an orderly world
or which she was quite proud

all of her treasures
had their own special place
of dust or dissension
there was nary a trace

once the Queen got lonely
& took a neighboring prince as her mate
but the curse of the gods was strong
& soon the prince’s love turned to hate

so the Queen accepted her fate
living happily alone in her castle
taking comfort in the order she’d created
& a life free of any hassle

copyright © 2010-2014 KPM

castle order

American dream

there are dark corners
of the American dream
where the eyes of citizens
have no gleam
just foreclosed houses
repossessed cars
‘n old gang-bangers
with keloid scars

there are cold spots
to the American dream
where isolated citizens
in loneliness scream
high-priced rooms
where insanity hums
‘n funerals for old folk
where no one ever comes

there are decaying bits
to the American dream
where the hopes of once-happy citizens
now curdle like rancid cream
here the rich get richer
while the poor try not to mind
‘n we all pretend not to see
the home of the brave decline

copyright © 2014 KPM

American dream

even ardent feminists have their moments

no one sees you in the morning
without your made-up face
no one else’s mess to clean
things remain in their proper place

no one leaves the top off the toothpaste
or one lonely sheet on the toilet roll
no dirty dishes in the kitchen sink
and the TV remote is yours to control

but when you climb in bed at last
on nights when the wind makes a lonely shriek
do you regret your single status?
do you feel something of a freak?

when you unlock that door
at the end of your working day
do you long to see somebody?
a lover to whom you can say:

hey sexy, it’s only me
will I cook or
will we go out for tea?
how was your day?
mine was shit – wait’ll you hear
then into their arms you can disappear

copyright © 2012-2014 KPM

ardent feminists