A poem for the many.

Today’s the day, the time is now to have your say in this political row.

It’s up to us, we can’t back down. This isn’t the time to sink and drown.

If you do nothing else today, go outside. Make today the day you tried.

People have given their lives to make our voices heard and see the ground shake.

Change won’t happen without your say, and things don’t have to be this way.

Yes alright, we might not win, but Jezza believes in me, and I in him.

Do yourself and your future a favour. Get off your butt and #VoteLabour


Stockholm Library

They say that libraries drive you crazy
And you can lose all sense of self.
Leaving behind any concept of time
And your mind, right there on the shelf.

But in my case, it’s the work that makes
Me start to question it all:
Why I started? Will I finish?
Double, Grande or Tall?

I’ve been here six days straight now,
And I can’t really complain
About the lighting or the vending machine,
Or that enormous coffee stain…

But staring at this page again,
And the ache behind my eyes
From sitting at a computer screen
is how my motivation dies.

Enough is enough! I whisper to myself,
After all, I’m in the Quiet Zone.
I can’t take this anymore,
It’s time to head back home.

But there’s that knock on the door again,
And that guilty feeling comes back.
Every second not spend doing this
Feels like I’m losing all the slack.

And so, I read on in silence,
Hoping someday, I’ll be free.
Hoping to be back in the light outside
Stockholm Library.


Back, by popular demand, A Laundry Room Romance

Opening the door of the washing machine,
I was greeted with a heart-wrenching sight.
That elusive red sock had fooled me again,
And my underwear was no longer white.

I stifled a sob of disappointment
as I loaded it into my basket.
My laundry room street cred was now, very much,
Dead and buried in its casket.

Pointing and laughing all around me,
I was mocked lousy by all.
Then in you came with your fairy liquid-tabs
And my life changed once and for all.

Your eyes met mine with a smouldering look,
And then, leaning in ever so slowly,
You whispered to me seductively,
“Do you think this is Dry-Clean only?”

My heart raced at hearing your voice
And I threw my washing to the floor.
The fabric softener exploded at my feet
As you slammed the washing machine door.

Our lips locked in a passionate embrace,
and we made love against the dryer,
The smell of his biological liquid tabs
Sending me even higher.

I shall never forget our whirlpool romance,
my mystery, laundry-room lover.
But it never worked out between the two of us
When I caught you doing washing for another.

All the while, though, I have to think
That could it ever have been,
I highly doubt it would have continued anyway,
For there are stains one simply cannot clean.

Oh, the irony.

My duvet is a sanctuary,
Where I can escape the world,
Where I’ve hidden from every monster
That plagued me as a girl.

But why does it happen now
That it strangles me in sleep,
Smothering me just before
The lake becomes too deep?

Although I long to see the face
Of you who stalks my thoughts,
At least give me this time without
Your nightly, morbid haunts. 

My dreams are being tampered with,
So I must stay awake.
My mind plays tricks on me in slumber
And heavy eyelids will have to wait. 

This is truly a table turner,
.And after a long and wounding fight,
I now choose you, Insomnia,
To bring me comfort from the night.

Just that one.

Just the one for me, please.
It’s more than enough.
Just that one for me, if you don’t
mind being tough.

Dragged to the corners of a sordid mind,
and let desire wage war against mankind.

Just this one for me, my darling
Until I stare into the abyss.
To grow with such internal force and
The interludes we cherish.

The Wait

Rip the black from the grey and bleach it to white,
Let the distance drift between shores tonight.

A thousand days without a wink
Will not defeat my pen and ink.
But a thousand more without your face
Would burn my soul and destroy this place.

I cannot continue this dull sort of patience,
Call it my virtue but I am less gracious.
Into the depths of misery plunges my life,
That inevitable, doubled-edged knife.


Commitment was never constant,But in some form it remained,
Before my eyes with heavy sighs
I couldn’t ascertain.

Thinking back, I cringe a little
At the sight that I became.
My stories old, have all been told
I will repeat again.

So enough with hidden meanings
With metaphors to fill the sea,
Take this once more, without a need for
My last, heart-felt apology.