My Fifth Book
Viajes Internos

My fifth published works ‘Viajes Internos’ is a collection of over one hundred poems written over the course of the turbulent year 2020. It features seven themes – Life, Love, Personal, Problems, Contemplations, Change and Hopes. This eclectic whirlwind of observations and imagery is designed to expand the mind, challenge the heart and nourish the soul.



Some people cry because they want a few more years:
They’re scared of the unknown,
They want to stay here.

Others shed tears because they must remain:
Devoid of the answers,
Submerged in their pain.

But my eyes are dry and open:
I have no preference.
I just refuse to live a life
Where time is a weapon.


Like, Lust, Love, Lose

Dancing round a fireplace, backlit
You’re the one I’ve always wanted
To be with me.

He said “you have to fight not to live life
Like the living dead.”
He said “contentment is a pretence:
Everybody wants change.”

Barefoot, bare chest, arms and legs painted;
The rare beauty of the unselfconscious.

He said “make war on yourself before anybody else.”
He said “happiness is the refuge of the stupid, but the prison of the

So it goes:
Like, lust, love, lose.



I am a natural disaster
Waiting to happen.

I am the creep in the night
Looking up at your bedroom.

I am the unwanted, the despairing, the insane.

My soul is soaked in sorrow
As I let your judgements reign.


Blind World

Almost eight billion people in the world
Is even one of us truly happy?
The famous say they’re lonely
In their towers drenched in gold.

The poor say they are left behind,
No one to care for them when they get old.

You can throw a stone in any crowded street
And hit someone unkind.

You meet a thousand people,
But only a few have agile minds.

Humanity in a tailspin
I’m sorry to take up your time;

I’m just so sick of seeing
In a world that’s totally blind.


Memory Of A Photo

“Pass me a lighter,” you says,
“For me fag.”

Your hair is so tousled;
You dress in bare rags
With the Union Jack on them:
It’s falling apart!

Quick, take my jacket, my lighter, my heart.


New World

“Wander where there is no pathway,”
the ancients used to say,
but with the modern world a giant carpark
There’s no hope in any way.

Still, originality is uniform;
The future a giant question mark.
We could reject the cycles of war
And stand before the mirror, stark.

We could repeat the same actions of fear
And turn the whole world pale
And sick with disease.

No wonder there’s unease:
We’re a ship with a hole in its sail.
A logic-shaped gap:
What we seek to know
Will kill all in the world but a few.

Then say the wise of today
As they rise:
“We will pay the ultimate price,
But the whole world will begin anew.”



Shards with glue hold together
To make a vase so fine
It holds the water none but a few can see.

Bliss is such a word;
It’s earned by inner work.

Preparing for future pain
Is not a game
It’s a process, an exercise, takes concentration.

But living in the moment
Is just like swimming in the ocean:
We find currents, depths, sharks.