Tag Archives: fate


It took a long time to reach nowhere
I think I missed the turn again
I started out in sunshine
And ended here in pain
It’s not far as the crow flies
But it’s a lifetime on the path
I cried some tears and lost some souls
It was hard some days to laugh
So I ended up in nowhere
Where a sign points out of town
It says that happiness is somewhere
But the sign is pointing down.


Life’s highway.

I was caught within the headlights

It was August 17

Nowhere left to hide myself

As the arrows pierced my dreams

I painted the Madonna

And wrote my life in Rhyme

Of all the things I might have had

The one thing left was time

Time can be a lonely friend

And pain a heavy load

Now vultures sit in easy  dance

On the wires along my road.

Slow train coming

I feel a slow train coming

It’s rising from the dust

Painted out in cadmium

It’s fading out to rust

There’s thunder in the storm clouds

That line the track behind

But there’s no-one now that’s looking

So I never saw the signs

It’s a slow train, it’s a slow train

And it labours through the night

But each and every morning it looks larger in my sight

It’s a slow train, Lord a slow train

And it sings a slow refrain

Yes, Lord it is a slow train

And it’s calling out my name.

Amongst broken branches.

This poem came to me whilst I walked through a forest and suddenly came across a huge section that had been cut down, leaving only an odd bare trunk that seemed to stand guard over it’s fallen friends. A sad and desolate place, waiting for new life to be breathed into the ravaged earth, but a place to reflect, in the way that sitting in a cemetery seems to bring about reflection and questioning.

 Like twisted limbs the trees did bend

Their trunks in tortured stance

The wind did whip and howl and tear

To force them into dance

The forest deep in dappled greens

Did swallow in my sounds

In silent step on cushioned earth

I walked this hallowed ground

The whispers came like murmured prayers

Soft floating through the air

They cut the wind like spirit knives

But no single leaf did stir

‘What love, what love,’ the whisper asked

‘What love, what truth is this?’

‘In unrequited warm embrace

Doest linger in her kiss?’

The question asked the murmur fades

From when and whence it lives

Whilst words they burrow deep and worm

No answers do they give

And so it goes this forest stroll

Amongst these stricken trees

The truth it lies ‘mongst broken branch

By lips brought to it’s knees