Beneath the Track (From William Golding's Lord of the Flies)

Creepers and trunks broken, smashed

Witch-like cry; echoed echoed echoed

Thick - was heat - was sand

A pink platform of granite

Uncompromisingly raised four feet jetty

Smiling proudly

Delightedly again, laughed

Like a bomb let him be chief

Darkness of the forest

Still lagoon, blue, green, purple

Piglet SCREAMED

Cut a pig's throat

Stick a pig

Choose a place

Too late

Wacco blue flowers

Wizard coral reef

Smashing boat shaped island

Belongs to us.

I'd Never Been One for Talking

My body went stiff

My hands went numb

My brain went dead

My voice, was gone


A conversation

That was all I sought

I wracked my brain

But no ideas came


I wanted to talk

I just didn’t know how


I wanted some friends

But they ignored me now


I was so quiet

They’d forgot I was there


Not one peep

Came out of my mouth


I was alone

Alone in this world


invisible to all.