A Poem Inside a Poem

A poem inside 

a poem revealed 

it-self to me showing 

a slant of ages like

an image within

an image.

Coming out of a dark
bi-focal trick in the eye
of concentration to go
deeper and deeper into
grey matter.

Grey Matter

I look around this room and realise 

my muse has exhausted the theme 

of light and dark but the shadows 

still fornicate. I’ve used the bed-rail, 

the wheelchair and the stand-by 

beacons to keep me from drowning 

in dark.

My piss-pot is angled like a shooting-

star blazing my trail of hope. 

My positivity comes from the well

Of treasure, the source that we call 

God. Whether it is or isn’t I think 

the well of human spirit is a 

vessel of magic that keeps 

us whole and I always make 

love with my light in the dark.