Whatever gives us closure
Whatever sets it right
Whatever helps to soothe the fear
Or make it through the night
Whatever little gesture
However small or shy
Is what provokes the beast in you
And pacifies the “Why?”
Whatever covers hunger
When anger slakes our thirst
Whatever makes us wonder
Who came up with it first
Whatever files the edges
Not sanding us too raw
But reinforcing boundaries
Well-tested from before
Whatever is an answer
Whatever doesn’t hurt
Whatever leaves us calmer
A sprinkling of dirt
Whatever takes you over
With every nasty prod
Until whatever’s left to see’s
Between yourself and sod.
Space
Counter Culture Cafe
The place where the antisocial
Gather to be alone
Each claiming a four-seat table
As space they can call their own.
We read, write and sip in silence
Observing our counterparts
Affronted by vocal violence
Where chattering children pass
I’m nearing the end of one cup
But pause while another stands
It wouldn’t be fair to counter
The pull of their drink demands
So queueing for table service
I duck to avoid the eye
Of waitress who makes me nervous
By bussing a bench nearby
We know those we see here often
But only on nodding terms
Some barriers never soften
And hand-shaking passes germs
Anxiety takes no notice
With all interactions dear
We pass out our days in closeness
And try to ignore our fear
We’re hardly inventing lonely
Though solitude equals peace
And we are our one and only
Unlikely to breed – we’ll cease
It isn’t a cause for wonder
That our generation stalls
When clearing one’s throat is thunder
Too sensitive for applause
And here in our counter culture
We’re safe from the fond embrace
We run from our awkward feelings
Too late to be in the race.
Hedgehog
I once moved country
With a sleeping bag
A dictionary
Two dresses
A blue t-shirt
One pair of jeans
And a change of underwear
To live in a nine foot
Square box with no
Toilet or fridge
I cooked ravioli
In the tin over
A five euro
Electric kettle
And washed both
Food and clothing
In the bidet
Entertaining friends
One at a time
As I acquired
A single mug
With no handle
Singing songs
With strangers
Who were also
Far from home
So do not dare
To presume
That I will permit
Myself to acknowledge
The inconvenience
Of personal growth
There are other things
Upon this Earth
That chafe
The Future
One day it creeps up
With its laser-bright tech
Androids, iPads and iPods
And it’s me, me, me, next!
Me, first in the queue
For my bells and my whistles
Buying new, full price too
Grab an upgrade that sizzles
The older and wiser
Are left far behind
While the eager, hard-driver
Is blowing his mind
On fragile collectables
Soon out of date
But oh, so delectable
He just can’t wait
Get one home from the shop
And undress it with care
See your mates’ faces drop
Blank with envious stare
Why take the insurance
Of tested, tried, true
When flashy performance
Is shiny and new?
It’s progress, yeah baby!
You know that it’s fun
The future is selling
A new app to run
All manner of items
Are bought on the net
If you’ve never tried iPhones
You haven’t lived yet
Every inch of existence
Is broadcast in space
Yet we must be persistent
So we’re easy to trace
In the hope that new planets
Want to ‘friend’ us online
Drop a tweet on our twitter
To invite us to dine
At their favourite pit-stop
En-route through to Mars
Where the quaint little bipeds
Zoom ’round in their cars
A Marriage of Convenience
The unwilling coexistence of passengers.
Introduced with a nod, the proposal made
By the raising of an eyebrow;
The automatic courtesy shrug
Finalizing a contract of mutual misery
For several hundred miles to come.
A contract to ignore the insupportable,
With the unwritten clauses
Detailing petty irritations, annoying personal habits
And unwelcome elbows
Insinuating their way into the afternoon
As the fields and houses flash by.
A blanket of humanity, settled, staid.
Sliced-through by the rattling train
Travelling at breakneck speed.
Katherine Shirley 