POETRY
A collection of works influenced by the experiences of a therapist and ex-paramedic living with late-diagnosed ADHD.
DUNES
I want to walk in
the dunes again.
Barefoot.
Feeling the sand, soft
and dry
between my toes.
The crash and spray
on a windy day
of the sea from the North
on shingle beach.
Dune grass, tall and vicious,
whips in the wind
against my legs,
barefoot
on the sandy path.
Feet sinking,
touching
sharp spikes of new growth.
I want to walk in
the dunes again.
Barefoot.
To bask
in the heat
of the Norfolk sun,
watching white horses
on the horizon,
where iron-hulled ships carry
fuel from the platforms.
Curious seals
And hungry gulls,
children on dinghies
and dogs in the surf.
I will walk in
the dunes again,
barefoot,
at the end of my days
with you.
WHEN DICK BROUGHT HIS SHOVEL
i remember the small rubber dinghy
on the strong north sea
and sally waiting for someone
to throw her a ball
i remember the deserted bags on the beach
while their owners cool their feet in the water
the cries of people far away
sounds carried on the breeze
in and out of the sea on this hot, sunny day
enjoying the surf
like figures from a lowry scene
escaping those dark foreboding chimneys
now paddling with trouser legs rolled up
or sharing a picnic on a rug
while sand blows in their sandwiches
i remember the curious seal
who came to see what the noise was about
head bobbing not far away
from where we were swimming
and i remember when dick brought his shovel
digging out speedboats and vintage cars
for the children
'like a grenade in a chicken shed
they carelessly threw those words i had bled
into the world'
excerpt from 'Twenty Years''
THE FINAL JOURNEY
They took him away
in a private ambulance.
Didn’t say goodbye.
PIOTR
Bravely,
sitting, staring ahead
with a hole in his head.
Attacked by his sister’s boyfriend.
She was dead.
He could not cry.
He had no English
to ask me why
this had happened
To him tonight.
I sat helpless,
En route to ED.
The police lady chatted
to him, to me.
But the silence was louder.
I remember his name,
the only word
he said to me,
before the nurse took his hand
And led him away.
'then like ancient fishermen
we strode into the ice-cold water
and dipped our nets below'
Excerpt from 'Sticklebacks'
LET ME SIT QUIETLY
let me sit quietly
here on this bench
where the perfect surroundings
allow me to reflect
let me sit quietly
where the sound of the traffic
on the distant main road
is drowned out by
the buzzing of bees
and the cry of the starling
let me sit quietly
in the shade of this tree
where the damp mossy smells
surround my senses and
cushion my soul
let me sit quietly
alone in my mind
without interruption
let me sit quietly
and let the world wander by
undisturbed
by the tick of the clock
or the needs of another
let me sit quietly
leave me to dream
the dream of the free
leave me in peace
WRECKED
creaking like the boards of a man-o-war
the battle joined gently
the joints of my legs and arms
flex and then extend
beneath the waves of the duvet sea
my body rolls like a drunken sailor
to the edge of the world where i launch
bovine-like into the space
of the room beyond
i stand for a moment stunned
by the sudden change of view
until the world starts to spin
throwing me back
into the murk of the bed
where i sink again below the waves
the cries of seagulls
fading
as i descend towards the bottom
my timbers relax and allow
the natural world of the seabed
to embrace my aching limbs
and mind
to wait for the next tide
to rescue me
and raise me to the surface
again
in the hope that tomorrow
the waves will lift me
and i might land
on the shore
of life