Poetry is a funny thing. Sometimes you start with a dumb idea, like writing ‘this is a poem’ because you can’t think of anything better to write. And then your feelings and thoughts take you on a bit of a journey and you end up actually really liking what started with such a garbage first line.

This, for me, was about my partner Jess. But I think it’s a pretty beautiful idea that someone else can inspire such self-love that they become the centre of your world. So it’s universal in that respect.

Written on 13-10-2016. Posted here in December 2016.


This is a poem; and it was written for you.
If you were a poem; you would be written for who?
That person so dear, as to know your every rhyme.
That person to whom, you are truly sublime.

They would put you in quote marks and tattoo you on their skin.
So they can look right in the mirror and re-read you over again.
Wrapping their arms around themselves to hold onto your warmth,
they close their eyes and set their sails and hope they’re heading north.

And in that dangerous journey only one thing is assured,
that even in the darkest depths they’ll feel your light so pure.
And basking in your meaning, your poignant turn of phrase,
the knowledge that they aren’t alone they find never decays.

Now armed with words the likes of yours,
the world seems much less filled with wars,
and on they plough through life toward,
an unknown goal that lacks reward.

They know full well along the way,
that very little ever stays.
But ink that stains their very skin,
reminds them; all they need’s within.