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2020 - 2021

Untitled (2020)

I marvelled upon sight of Earth, 

numbing legs dangle over clouds 

the skies above me the stars above them; 

in all their excellence

a frosted stillness.

Daylight greets us now,

icicles fade as a slate wiped afresh 

colours washing through me as I gaze upon them;

those glorious cacophonies

a chorus of life.

A great sigh befalls my Earth, 

and once her light free-falls 

into these tired eyes of mine, 

there remains

this frosted stillness.

A view from Kingston Bridge in 2021

A day in Cannizaro Park, Wimbledon, 2020

One that never saw the light of day (2021)

“It’s golden hour”

A rush of warmth seems to catch us by surprise every time.

Here we are, immersing in the closest thing to true tranquillity,

glowingly neglecting the thoughts of anything other than the present.

These are the precious moments where I silently pray

that one could last – no – live with us,

for just a fraction longer than the day’s divine farewell.

It is a dreamy amble along the river

as you effortlessly name the birds that pass,

or a secluded picnic with sandwiches cut neatly into quarters.

The first chill is a reminder that our welcome is outstayed,

I don’t think sixty minutes could ever be enough.

Des Jones, the Cat (2021)

Hello little creature

are you here to welcome me,

to my new refuge from the eclecticism of life?

When the world became unrecognisable,

I pictured unfamiliarity, terrified of your sharp claws,

chased into the depths of where one keeps

their most honest fears: loneliness, despondency,  

endless repetition, day after day after day.

Yes, I will dare to call this place home.

There is something about your unreserved assertiveness, 

or expressive demand that I cannot refuse,

Perhaps because you nestle so sweetly on my lap.

Well finally, something I can be proud of.

Frantic, whilst you meet the eyes of tired commuters

and surprisingly calm when droplets detach from mine

inadvertently sinking into your ashen coat,

Never to be seen by the world again

an accidental secret, between you and I.

The thing I find most beautiful is not our mutual comfort;

it is the fullness I see in the people I love,

when you brush against their hands.

In a manner that is delicate to the extreme.

Slightly off the main path in Surrey Hills, 2020

Des Jones, also known as Lily, 2021

A quarry slowly being reclaimed by nature in Wye Valley, 2021

Vampires (2021)

My close companionship with guilt keeps me in check. 

She is a critical friend, I like to think, as nature somehow intended. 

The act of feeling bad, a last ditch attempt,

Salvaging self-preservation when things have already gone awry. 

Until then, I choose to be engulfed in chaos,

take in a deep gulp of air,

and look upon the consequences.

The fruits of my insincere emotional availability:

Hollow threats piling up on my phone, ridiculous professions of love, 

oh, and the entirety of the Twilight film series-

I don’t really know what is happening.

But I don’t like the werewolf.