hark back

i wonder
if you
ever wonder
what we
could be
could we
hark back
to the early days
and incrementally
change our ways
would we still
end up at the end
of our days
where we did
or would we
have ended up
married with a kid
silly to brood
on a brood unbred
but that's just how it is
inside my head

obdurate

years like lacquer
overlay all in sepia
sense of self somehow
as obdurate as if
trapped in amber
awaiting a blast sander
to erode the varnish
of ego and return
to unfinished nature

fulcrum

the year turns
and in the turning
all the futures wait
upon the fulcrum
to find which way
the thing will swing

canorous

sweet nothings are as nothing
'gainst his dulcet timbre
for when drifting off
in slumber's piece of day
I have found no better way
than the canorous chords
of one Sir David Attenborough
singing me sweetly to sleep
descanting savanna songs
or arias of the arctic
engaging my mind in his
sonorous kind voice
and delightfully distracting
from the act of re-acting out
every conversation and blunder
that I have ever had
from the day that I was born
until the moment I go under

enervate

Loneliness: a succubus.
She comes in dark of night
& steals your soul,
enervates you so
before the dawn
you lie in exhausted wakefulness
murmuring wearied incantations
to exhort you into day.

utmost

though I have
done my utmost
to do the things
I thought I ought
somehow I
muddled am still
I evermore am
stood stuck
staring down
the crossroads
and dithering

benison

the world indeed is frightening
and full of chaos crumbling
but still in times of strife
there is hope where there is life
and tiny beinsons beget
greater kindnesses still yet
so be grateful and be grand
now the year's end close at hand