Upper Cut *new*

Life doesn’t pull any punches
it hits you square in the jaw
Stomach caves, shoulders hunch
fingers grip the floor
This punch blindsided us all
We fell like dominoes
scattered and left to crawl
Until one of us rose
Together we picked up each other
formed a boundaried space
for everyone to recover
A commonality in each face
processing the same loss
with unique levels of pain
weighing up the real cost
then rebalance and reframe
The impact will never fully heal
leaving a residual bruise
and this feeling we are meant to feel
from a fight we weren’t meant to lose
a fight we hardly knew we were fighting
a fight we thought we’d won
a fight we weren’t inciting
a fight we never begun
against an invisible opponent
that resides deep in the host
clouding the vital component
grows like a seed in rich compost
and there is no light to shine
no patch of blue sky
no cloud with silver lining
to make good when the young die
but between us there is a solidarity
a force of human instinct
to offer one another clarity
to remain closely linked
to hold up anyone who shakes
and find a lost smile
to mend the heart that breaks
and although it will take a while
we can feel sunlight for him
we can keep open ears and eyes
we can fill life to the brim
tell ugly truths and beautiful lies
we can shed tears and breathe deep
we can forgive and release grudges
we can laugh and dream in sleep
and we can roll with the punches.


Zip boots over winter tights

Ignition on. Lights.

Window frosted, steamed inside

Heater on. Eyes dried.

Heads down, collars up

Sipping on a travel cup

Traffic flows, traffic slows

Clouds move as wind blows

Chastised kid lags behind

His face on her mind

Newspaper tucked under arm

Monotonous resigned calm

Shops open, queues file

Small talk, fake smile

Money changes hands

People making plans

Clock in clock out

Choose lunch, check out

2pm stands still

Gazing at the windowsill

People watching people wonder

til rush hour pulls you under

down stream to home

yearning to be alone

empty footfalls empty street

close door wipe feet

deep breath dry cheeks

hours to days days to weeks

futile world spins

another day begins