Where do I belong?
And where are my roots?
A local boy
with foreign boots.
Tag: memory
Steam Power – Written June 2025 (Aged 50)
Memories frayed
around their edges.
Experiences, intangible,
like melted snow.
Belt – Written June 2025 (Aged 50)
There I am,
wrestling with the self,
watching memories
slide along the belt.
My Memories Are a Museum Now – Written Thursday 5th June 2025 (Aged 50)
My memories are a museum now.
I am looking at exhibits — artefacts of the past.
Sometimes there is an air of regret, sometimes joy.
My memories are a museum now.
What Became Of Those People – Written Tuesday 27th May 2025 (Aged 50)
I wonder what happened to —
became of —
those people
who crossed my path.
Creases and Folds – Written Monday 19th May 2025 (Aged 50)
Everything becomes old.
Time itself
has upon its being
creases and folds.
London and Smitten – Written May 2025 (Aged 50)
Back then, I seemed so far away
from being a child,
but a child I was —
still a fledgling in my thoughts.
Never Ending Parade – Written Monday 31st March 2025 (Aged 50)
The never-ending parade that marches through a street
Feels like the friends that I no longer meet
Free Market Storm Clouds – Written January 2025 (Aged 49)
We were the final wisps of an analogue age,
the final people to manually turn a page
Bonfires of Human Lust – Written Wednesday 27th July 2022 (Aged 42)
self-image –
and self-worth
ran away –
and hid in a saxon church
The Boy Behind The Glasses. Poetry and Writing 