i look in
and see the broken bits
and that the things
that no longer fit

they did not tell you
about privilege
but, nonetheless
you understood the contract

misty eyed adventures
told like ragged folk tales
or new age ghost stories
they all stand to attention

we are jigsaw puzzles
in pieces
held in bags
we are the rumenation
of all that makes us sad

i went to bed,
but then realisation
pulled the covers back
and i thought,
perhaps that is true

someone –
has smashed the music box
it lies on the floor,
in tatters
and it will not sing anymore

i look at the news
it rolls up –
and it curls up –
there, right before my eyes
every illicit ideology
offers me no actual surprise

The Inevitable Journey it feels like – we are travelling down a road on a journey – we started – … More

it told me that work politics
was just work relationships
but i am not so sure
all too often,
power plays and bullying
seem to underpin office floors

i fear, i always fear
that i am fuelled by my madcap ego
in its dashing shirt
that i am a bombastic joker
and someone has always got hurt