Karnak Temple

Ipet-isut, I whisper, for it is your ancient name
The Most Sacred of Places, over many years it came
And now I can explore it, I’m full of awe and wonder
The sun is dancing in my eyes and stopped me going under

Within brick walls I venture to the temple of Amun
Down an avenue of sphinxes; I see rams this afternoon


I am nurse from Ukraine
Kateryna is my name

I been beaten by police
While I protest
Please my husband to release
He in jail
I no can sleep

They burn me with cigarette
Hold me down I no forget
Now my husband dead
They tell me I next

I want start new life
I like to work
I tell you before I am nurse
Many years I train
Me I want give England help
I hear more nurse they need
I ready to bleed
For country who keep me safe

But they no let me work
So I stay in hostel room
With nothing I do
Some English hate me, why?
They say I take their money
I not want take
But I no choice

While man decide my case
Solicitor tell me
Not my hope to raise
They send me away

I tell him
If they want send me back to there
I cut my wrists
Me I die
I not care
I not go back there!

I not want blood and bruise
I not like feeling rape
I not see children scream
I not sell body for food

I no-one just a number
Who government not want
To remember

I am nurse from Ukraine
Kateryna is my name

Kids Halloween

Can you hear it?
Glass breaking, doors shaking
Thunder booming overhead
Wailing – is it the wind?
Or the angry rain
That lashes at the window pane?
A door squeaks
Now footsteps echo down the hall
Who’s there? Turn around
No-one’s there at all!
A clock on the mantelpiece
Tick tock tick tocking
Now midnight chimes
Do you hear that knocking?

Can you see it?
Bats flying, ghosts crying
Pumpkins glowing in the dark
Shadows move on the wall
And the candles glow
While the ghosts wander to and fro!
A witch rides
On her broomstick, past the eerie moon
And a vampire smiles
He’ll be feeding soon!
The monster of Frankenstein
Rises from his bed
It’s a scary place
Do you see the dead?

Can you feel it?
Wet splashing, cold lashing
Water laps against your face
As you seek an apple
With your teeth – it’s quite a grapple!
A breeze blows
Or is it a cobweb against your cheek?
Or a ghoul playing
Games of hide and seek?
A shiver is beginning
To creep up your spine
Starting at the base
Do you feel it climb?

Can you smell it?
Leaves roasting, fruit toasting
Apples baked into a pie
Or dipped in warm toffee
And the smoky spice
Of pumpkin – scent of pure delight!
A bag bursts
Now wafts of buttered popcorn drift
Inside your nostrils
What a fragrant gift!
A strange odour is lurking
It’s hot and stewing
It’s witch’s soup!
Do you smell it brewing?

Can you taste it?
Sweet honey, treats yummy
Boiled sugar in your mouth
It melts upon your tongue
Like warm marshmallow
Trick sweets turn your tongue bright yellow!
A green cake
Looks horrible but tastes just great
Only a few crumbs
Will stay on your plate!
And toffee sticks to your teeth
It delights your gums
It’s Halloween!
Do you taste the fun?


I never think I’ll find it
Certainly most times I won’t
Those I thought would understand

I always think it’s distant
Obviously most times it is
Even when I breathe compassion

I sometimes think it’s closer
Openly I try to show
Even those who brush me aside

I lovingly disguise it
Finally you’ll get inside
Even when I don’t want to I

I never think I’ll see it
But occasionally I do
Even those I don’t expect


Soft kiss
Dewy secret
Enticed from tearful lips
Relieves the drought of barren love’s


Does it begin again
Does it
Does the flickering become inflamed
Do the pretty moths dare to speak their name

What can I do
What can halt the dancing light
What is welcome isn’t always right

Why this once more
Why this
Why do the windows open wide
Why no pane to catch the light

Teach me pictures
Teach love
Teach anything to bring it near
Teach things that no-one else can hear

Does it begin again
Does it
Does madness stir a sleeping soul
Does wisdom have nowhere to go


I find an affinity and a reassurance
In cracking codes and understanding – I know I’m mad
But regardless of that, I love language
And the force of that
The basis of all comes from Latin in Europe
And God knows where from other places
Yet it makes sense to me
I’d be a good interpreter for others
Because I understand not only language
But total culture

I can fit in anywhere and I relate to you
In realising the ways of communication – I know it’s bizarre
But never mind that, I love speaking
And the recognition
The rules are taught to adults worldwide for learning
And who knows what a good teacher is
Yet regardless of the method
I’d be a great learner in any situation
Because I feel the passion inside the tongue
Of others’ understanding
And their fun …


Starts as a tickle
Mouth perimeters

As heart’s
Heated joke
Fast intensifies

Giggle gremlins
Cheek stretchers
Teeth unveil
A sweeping grin

Tongue buoyant
Belly bounces
Moon face

Trumpet blares within
A rush of air

Liquid mirth
Topples from eyes
Breath captured by
Laugh’s short reign

Then a huge
Followed by
Strange noises


So you’re leaving…
Well thank you
For treating me as semi-human
The last few months
But I don’t think we’ll be keeping in touch.

Leaving part II

Well, I am without words
As nothing you did inspired me.
When you leave me
I feel like an empty cannon
Ready to fire
Never having the opportunity.
Your petty grievances
Lining my coat as I predict
Grey clouds overhead
And my paintbrush dipped in it

Leicester Square

Yes, I knew from that moment:
London had arrived.
Leicester Square announced itself
in a multi-coloured flurry of shapes and faces.
Electric billboards, thoroughly self-absorbed,
demanded a second look:
millions spent on shameless promotion
while across the street, a haggard man sat
wrapped in a threadbare blanket,
head hung low, knotted locks of hair
falling forward, a weeping willow
planted near a battered sign. He’d torn it
from a cardboard box, scribbled
pleading phrases.
I saw burger bars and pharmacies,
cinemas and pubs; restaurants and boulangeries,
traffic lights and double-decker buses
that moved around the city in fits and starts.
Slate-grey regal buildings stood proud,
having the advantage of age and class,
their Victorian elegance the chalk
to advertisers’ cheese.
Swarms of people with urgent matters
tapped impatient feet by two yellow stripes,
willing the green man to take his turn.
They huddled without touching:
the Turkish guy, sunglasses on head,
in a heated discussion with his father’s brother.
A trio of young men, suited and booted,
clipped and shaved, making fun of feminism
while still talking shop.
I yawned, noticed some Japanese tourists,
necks laden with garlands of cameras, smile at
the people across the road –
no-one smiled back.

Life Change

I know I must be very very strong
And it will be so difficult for me to change old habits
But I can do it… I promise you
No! I promise myself, for that is more important
I believe in myself

I have a new life plan
Which I will work out when I get home and it will
Be for both of us, to get us
Out of this hole and into a life worth living
No matter what it takes

I know that I must be organised
And that is an alien concept for me in stepping forward
But I can do it… I know I can do it
I respect what I am now and I can get through it
In spite of the odds

I had a glimpse of how life could treat us
So differently from what we know now in routine activity
But I feel that we have it… inside us to
Make that big change and to ride the storm until
The day that we leave

We’ll do it together
A life change forever…


I don’t want to expect miracles
But that is what I need
I long for something to tell me right
To offer me a guiding light
It probably won’t happen
But I wish it all the same
I need some reassurance that
It’s all part of a game
That I can win…

I don’t want to raise my hopes
But that’s all I can do
I crave the day I see so clear
I know only what I fear
It may not ever happen
But I hope that it will be
I need some understanding for
A piece of history
That I still hold…

Help me, help me
Save me, save me
Bring me out and love can make me
Stronger, better, not under the weather
Love me, love me
Just the way I am
Then maybe I can acheive
Who it is I want to be

Life and things like it

The best authors I’ve read
Blend truth with understanding
None of us are perfect yet
We demand some undemanding
Conditional love… call it commanding

The best poetry I’ve written
Blends love with a sort of yearning
None of us are aware of all
The pressure we’re still burning
Conditional love… call it undeserving

The best lyrics I have heard
Blend insight and hidden crying
None of us are really free
While we expect undying
Conditional love… call it trying

The best thing about this poem
Blends thoughts with hope of loving
None of us are pure as angels
We want some sort of giving
Conditional love… it’s so much like living

Unconditional love
Can it ever exist
I’d like to think that the purest love
Would rise above all this

Stop and think…
If they were gone…
Did you say the truth you think?

Life and things like it


So I wait and I wait
And it is an eternity… yet it is no time at all
When I hear your words, time means nothing
And I crawl and I crawl

So I torture myself
And it is a lifetime… yet it is no time at all
When I see your face, time means nothing
And I stall and I stall

How is it possible that you do this to me
I am a sensible person
I am a spirit trying hard to be free
So how is it possible that you make me feel
A million conflictions
I am a soul wanting more than they see

So I try and I try
It is forever… yet it is no time at all
When I close my eyes, time means nothing
Yet I want more, I want more

So I don’t cry and I don’t cry
It is painful… yet it is no time at all
When I see your design, time means nothing
And I fall, and I fall

I am a logical person
I am a girl needing more than they see
So how is it possible that you make me feel
A thousand denials
I am a fire breathing more than the breeze

So I try and I try
Probably for a lifetime…


Branches of a tree
Someone cracked the sky with a giant hammer
The crack got bigger spreading out like skeleton fingers
Like veins
Spider legs
Pure white-hot
From blackness comes brilliant light

Liquid Light

Liquid light
White river
Melted sugar
Bleached brilliance
Pearly gleam
Cascade cream
Nature’s fountain
Trickle, dribble, drip

Little Boy

Little boy in a cold tin bath
While Mummy scrubs away
The dirt of this poverty-stricken world
With a good solid bar of soap
Splashing him with tepid water.
Flowery dress and apron
Hug her curvy hips and ample bosom
Hair swept into a tidy bun
As she washes away confusion.
The bath is rusty; balanced on a table
And little boy has his hair in spikes
Held together with economy shampoo
And he shivers at the lack of warmth
The water provides, but bathes in
Cosy words of comfort from his mother.
The floorboards are bare;
The house is almost devoid of furniture
They cannot afford a sofa.
He plays in mud, no computer games
To strangle his mind like they will
In the future. Innocent child,
Baptised by maternal love,
Clean and pure, ready to jump
Excitedly from the bath into
The nearest muddy puddle
And start all over again

Little Girl

You, sitting with daisy chain hair
Smiling, without a care, nothing
To disturb you, distort you, corrupt you,
No-one to interrupt you
In your flower-stalk art,
The art of youth. Which goes to prove,
Naivety is best. You’re truly blessed,
In your cartoon pyjamas and your
Little cotton vest, sprinkled scent
Of talcum powder fills the room.
You’re too gorgeous too soon,
Lost inside your fairytale book,
The one with pictures where you
Sit and look, with such innocence.
Those images – will burn themselves
Into your memory, to recall when
You are older. Your pretty eyes smolder,
Hair in bunches and a cheeky grin.
Don’t want anyone to get in,
Tarnish the joy that illuminates
Every inch of your freshly-washed face,
As you read with such concentration.
But to let you grow I must have patience;
Not blind you to reality. You rub your knee,
Hurts where you fell down earlier today,
Scraped on the pavement, you thought
The skin fell away, and searched for it
With no result; your baby tears
Were full of salt, but now you’re happy
As a newborn lamb. I understand,
The magic of your age – before you’re
Overworked and underpaid;
Stained by lovers loved and left;
Scorned by bullies, torn by theft;
Used by friends, scarred by fate;
Skipping lunch in case you’re late,
Despite all reason and good sense
I want to lock you up,
Build a fence, to shield you from
The world and all its self-made
Problems. Please, little girl,
Hold on to your lifted soul,
May your heart stay pure even when
You are old. I watch you now with
So much love, my little princess,
The whitest dove.


That moment changed my life forever
That smile, those laughter lines, and I could see
The subdued kindness and decency
Of someone pure of heart and hidden secrets
Beneath the surface, this deepest truth
And a sense of humour hiding something blue.

One image recalls inside my picture
The painting of your invisible colours
Etched into my heart eternally
Although I didn’t know it then, I knew it then
So unlike the others, your warmest welcome
And a longing sensed although not for some.

Hospitality unbounded while talking
Of family and some ancient beliefs
Somewhat frustrated, yet strangely alive
It started even before that time, I felt it come
Like a creeping desert thief, sand in my shoes
And undeniable sparkles of a lighter hue

One split second I caught your eye right then
That single moment of pure mayhem, as I saw
What looked to me, like some sort of respect and reverie
As well as a passion and love shining through
Just a quick glance is all it took
And in that brief ignition I just knew

Could not envisage the future path for us
Did not understand or know the code to break
Just caught up in a hope of a similar soul
And it went too far – in mind maybe only
But in my heart I know I won’t be lonely… again

I am enlightened
I am the free spirit above the madding crowds.
I am independent, dependent, what ever you like
I am never with a doubt

About you

Lost in Frustration

Don’t you hate it that the adverts shown on TV
Are always twice the volume that they really need to be

And doesn’t it annoy you when standing in a queue
The person in front has a hundred things to do

Should those other drivers be allowed out on the road
When their sole purpose in life is to make you explode

With irritation and frustration – you know you’ll be late
Just another problem – go on, add it to your plate

Have you shouted a swear word, or maybe two or three
Trying to remove the plastic wrapping from a new CD

And have you wanted to throw your PC to the ground
After hours of typing – “Printer cannot be found”

Tell me, do you sigh to yourself as so-called mates
Are bitchin’ about you – but they smile to your face

Doesn’t your blood boil when phoning your bank
You’re put through to a call centre in Pakistan

Or you’re given a series of numbers to press
Yet none of them relate to your current distress

Have you been locked out for hours – you lost your key
These days are exhausting! Or maybe it’s just me


Christmas lights wink;
mock his heartsick gaze,
taunting him with merry flashes
through rusty prison bars.
He sits alone, head in hands
dejected, rejected, inspected
only heated memories
to keep him warm.

Recollections of his mother
who prayed a blessing
at the festive feet of
her statue of Jesus.
Brother and sisters
scrambled over each other
in excitement, tore at
wrapping paper with delighted
screams. But the screaming…
becomes another sound to
his memory’s ear… shrieks of
anguish as they came, the
militia; demanding his father,
raping his mother then
shooting her in the head.
They got his brother, too,
and his sisters could be anywhere.
They were pushed into
a waiting truck with bags
tied over their heads. He escaped
death only by chance; hiding
in the bathroom where he had
just gone to wee. They left;
he ran for his life, but was caught
half way up the road by armed
forces and thrown into a cell.

Not this cell, the one where he
sits and weeps over Christmas;
another, dirty, lined with the
blood of other interrogations.
They beat him badly, that day,
with rifle butts and practiced
punches. Face swollen,
feet badly bruised, he crawled
to the guard for a bribe;
fled his country with a shattered
heart, came here for help.

Case refused, appeal discarded
then a pleading to the judge
for reasons of humanity, but
the judge was having a bad day.
The meagre pennies he
was paid every month for
survival, were snatched away
by governmental hands. So,
left with no choice, he worked
illegally – in a factory, doing
something that
no-one else wanted to do.

Then one day, a swarm of
busy bees arrived: policemen,
immigration officials and
suits from work and pensions.
When they came to Lumumba,
he begged them with tears,
but they handcuffed him,
told him he had failed and
now must be deported.
Screaming started again;
they detained him inside this
dark and lonely cubicle.

Now he sits, head in hands,
eyes closed, cheeks wet
hearing songs of seasonal
spirit laughing at him behind
a closed steel door. The guards
go home to their turkey dinner
and Lumumba sits alone, waiting.

Love You

I desire to tell you all that is in my heart
I wish to reveal the rising of my sun inside your land
I want to unleash the prisoner within my cell
I need to make it known that you know me so well
I want to tell you something…

I bleed crazy red in every late night moment
I try to hide the innocence that makes me so dependant
I feel that I am clawing at a stony wall inside
I realise my senses are heightened at this time
I want to tell you something…

I suffer eternally because I do not say
I paint a golden picture which is never paint by numbers
I sing a song of loneliness although I’m not alone
I accept that I will always ache inside my bones
I want to tell you something…

I run a thousand miles within a single moment
I look back and I can see, I became a pillar of salt
I cry so many times inside but no-one ever sees
I rummage through the dark of night and cannot quite release
I want to tell you something…

I fade into the background as I dance those steps
I look into the mirror and I wince at my reflection
I laugh out loud when I recall the sparkle darkness
I consider everything you said in all its starkness
I want to tell you something…

I think about you all the time and I can’t forget
I always wish that you were mine and that I’d know the feeling
I fantasise about your touch and always wonder
I dream that I am in your arms and breathing all desire
I want to tell you something…

I love you

adminPoems K – L