A huddle on the greasy street – cars stop, nose past, withdraw – dull glint on soles of tackety boots, frayed rough blue trousers, nondescript coat stretching back, head supported in strangers’ arms, a crowd collecting – ‘Whit’s wrang?’ ‘Can ye see’m?’ ‘An auld fella, he’s had it.’ On one side, a young mother in a headscarf is kneeling to comfort him, her three-year-old son stands puzzled, touching her coat, her shopping bag spills its packages that people look at as they loo

Crab apple tree on pier to pier, a boat to my boat Sweet, sickly diesel and sour, river air A potent, nasal note. Ahoy, Stuart, welcome aboard, and do make yourself at home away from home, 20 feet from shore. Deck creeks, water leaks, gate squeaks that needs a drop of oil on the water. Low tide now, mud exposed now Delicious it looks, school chocolate pudding, Mississipi Mud Pie, Wandsworth-style. At high tide all is hidden creek, crack, rust, mud. Inside all is golden wood G

I sit alone in a crowd, surrounded by sound Enveloped by chatter, punctuated by laughter The piercing ring of ceramic cups on marble tabletops My eyes are suddenly drawn from the proximate to the infinite In a slice of sky before me, between the awning and the parasol Something momentous is growing A silent mountain Golden glowing in the setting sunlight As I sit in quiet awe Flashes of bright, white, light emanate from within Like the laughter of the crowd Only silent, dista

I feel as if I'm unravelling My thread of life, falling away from that thick, warm, safe, soft ball of wool. All I thought I knew and was certain of, all that I built my foundations upon, falling off my lap, onto the floor, rolling away from me. The life I thought I knew the life I had the life I was living is all there, contained within that bundle of wool. The routines, the early morning calls, the responsibilities and the self assurances of the man I thought I was Coming a

At times I think this isn't working - the therapy, the time off work, the talking, the endless talking, the endless sleeping What if I'll never be better? What if my life will cascade downwards until the end? What if I die having lived a life full of regrets? What if I fail to achieve the incredible things I know I am capable of? Living an ordinary life is NOT ENOUGH They never listened to this - they said it was fine They said I was too sensitive They said I was a dreamer Th