Nice to see you.
''They are not long, the days of wine and roses:Out of a misty dreamOur path emerges for a while, then closes,Within a dream.''
2014 Pushcart Prize nominee. (more)
New story collection coming soon: Pseudo Stars
Many stories and poems published worldwide.
My work is raw and from experience and observations.
My recent experiences with my partner in a Wheelchair prompted me to write this poem. I don't wish to cast any aspersions on those who are permanently in them, but for those who can walk and suddenly find themselves in one, they must go through a period of transition. And that can't be easy.
For my partner, it's a brief period, 8 weeks in total, (and a further 6 on crutches) but I felt compelled to turn a thought to those who will never have that option.
W h e e l C h a i r
Trapped – Here
Entwined – By This
Restricted - By the Body
It's a Prototype Made Final.
The Flesh is Demanding – Selfish
The Mind Relegated
to Second Place
To Give Weight to these Dreams
To grow Skin and seethe Blood
To these flowing Whims
Steel Shoe Laced
And Perpetually Captive
By these Destroyed Limbs.
The Design is Faulty
Bones but Fractured Bars
The Chair – a Mobile Prison.
Of the Life
I had Before.
Another in the series on Greatest Written Films,
Feedback (of any kind) appreciated.