Who Knows What Normal Is?

"Did you have a normal childhood?" they ask.

You mean was my mother killed in a terrible car crash when I was just 6 so I don't really remember her? 

...No.

You mean did my father abuse me? 

...No.

You mean did I grow up in a country ravaged by war?

 ...No.

You mean did we have to scrabble around for our food and water? 

...No.

You mean did a pseudo religious sect take over our village, kill all the men and rape all the women? 

...No.

You mean did I spend most of my childhood dressed in rags, bitterly cold, hungry and alone? 

...No.

You mean did I see my father be shot in the head by a representative of some 'tin-pot' regime?

...No.

You mean did I grow up not having a family, 

in an institution or on the streets? 

...No.

You mean, 

was I loved? 

...Yes.

Was I warm; fed and happy? ...Yes.

Did I know my place in the world,

my place in the structure of a loving family,

did I have relatives to visit,

wonderful trips away,

holidays? 

...Yes I did.

Did I have a normal childhood?

...who knows what normal is?

What If It Took Me

What if it was me struck down with this terrible virus?

If I had the relentless cough,

the loss of taste and sence smell...

What if it was me feeling very, very unwell?

What if it was for me the 999 call was made?

If I had to be rushed to hospital by ambulance,

blue lights flashing and sirens blaring...

What if it was me who was slowly loosing consciousness?

What if it was for me; drips and ventilators were being readied?

If I was rushed straight through A+E,

If it was me who was causing the doctors great concern...

What if it were for me a place in intensive care was being found?

What if it was for me all the technology was being prepared?

If I was in a hospital bed being tended to by 6 or 7 nurses,

busying themselves around me...

What if it was because of me everyone wore protective clothing?

What if it were me who could only lye there and hear it all going on around me?

If I were lying there unable to speak,

unable to move...

What if I were clinically dead?

What if I lost 4 weeks of my life because of being sedated?

What if they said I'd recover but never be the person I was again?

What if I got 'Long Covid' and all those terrible symptoms never really went away?

And what if I never recovered?

What if all the efforts of all those nurses and doctors were in vain?

What if it took me?

(Haiku)

Bloody computers

hey! You can't live with them and 

you can't live with them!

Comfortable in Their Own Skin

Who is comfortable in their own skin right now?

Not women,

not 'Black', 'Asian' or 'Latino' people,

nor LGBTQ+ people.

I'm a middle aged,

non mesoginistic,

husband,

father of 4 children,

2 of which are girls,

white,

comfortable, 

middle aged man...

...and I'm not!

(Haiku)

You are you. I don't 

know anyone who can be

'you' any better!

50 Years Ago I Was At School With You

Who would have thought we'd send spaceships across the vast emptiness of space,

and that my mum would have died.

Who would have thought we'd have the internet,

and that I would have four children.

Who would have thought we'd have damaged our planet so badly,

and that I would become an artist.

Who would have thought we'd have small communication devices to carry in our hands,

and that I would suffer from depression,

and talk about it on them.

Who would have thought we'd have a pandemic,

and that I would write poetry.

Who would have thought that every house would have a computer,

and that a packet of fags would cost fifteen quid,

and that we'd still be drinking coca cola,

and we'd have lockdowns and have to wear masks,

and that Woolworths would have closed,

and that the city would have a top flight rugby team,

and that our TV signals would come from outer space...

and that it was 50 years ago I was at school with you...

and that I'd be 60 this year...

who'd have thought it!