A mirage of a golden door A weathered flame Blistering Blind Gesturing in gathering hands And a Mother’s tears Astride From shore to shore Remembering The cry from silent lips In yearning breaths Of freedoms lost In this oasis green Copyright ©RMC May 2020


    There are phantoms in her head Dancing They are flowers of a different colour To those she grows at home Some are sunlight Some grow in shadow But they are shades of her Divided And she knows not the knife they wield When they lead her back to a second hand sofa And … Continue reading Shades


Smoke threads the air, Tendrils curling Captivating the screen. She breathes in, Slowly, Measured, Then out Through soft lips Glossed, Scarlet, Smouldering, Although the scene is played in black and white And the colour is just imagined. She takes the cigarette between her fingers, It’s not left to dwindle, Ash building, She Takes control, Boldly … Continue reading Icon

Copyright RMC August 2019


And so we grow, In winds bent back Against the storms And lightning strikes. Headlong, Rise up, Unfurl In splendour And well-lit grace Of Swift footsteps That forever change And twist In those brief sorrows Of untrained reach And growth in silent tears; That dry in hope And sunlight given. Copyright ©RMC May 2020


The foundations of his dying mind Bleeds muted on his control, He is fading, Ghosting between life and living In bored realities of grey and red. Crooked and bent he screams at wallpaper, Its pattern faded since the Seventies Where polyester was once king And childhood turned on a five pence piece. The TV flickers, … Continue reading Forgotten

Oceans of Lies

We drift on a seascape full of fallen stars Their barren light, our isolation. We flirt with chance, you and I, A great and worthy performance, And lies, like the dark eternal depths, Carry us, clutching at the loose sand In a belief we are more than our false smiles. Gravity threatens and pulls us … Continue reading Oceans of Lies

Wild Horses

A small dust devil dances Kicked by the breeze, Under searing heat, The landscape’s on fire, Powered orange, bittersweet, Mirage against dry grass Where the wild horses play. He rests on his porch Watching the distance, Searching, Tired eyes Burden by regret, Spun by time. There’s blood on his hands, A labour’s hands, From faces … Continue reading Wild Horses