My friend Jarrod Van Der Veen made this for me, as he loved that quote from my short story Heart of Glass.

I love it!

numbers

the clock hand points like a judge,
and a deep breathe of ocean air fills my torso.
1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12
the lonely old man in the tower,
and his rusted golden bell.
it rings like a child's smile.

a dog spoke words from a human mouth,
today the world is a shade of purple.
i painted the moon like the sun
stole the stars,
and put them under my pillow.
i dreamt of pixies and crowns and dust.

clouds of bubblegum shaped like madmen,
glued the roof of the white hallway.
they shouted profanities and barked,
woof.
mum always did say keep your feet on the ground,
your head is for the sky.

questions come in numbers,
1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12
truth comes in none,
but the sound of rainfall is real.
a pen and paper wrote the big man,
scribbled tales of laughter and ballet. 

2010

A Ballad Made For Wolves

They walked like canines
Under the moonlight
Their sharp teeth shimmer
As they howl for winter

Preying for prayers
Tasting sweet innocence
Hunting for a victim
I'll be your victim 

2010 Lyrical Poetry

Hill 60

Sarah Haynes Photography

Little Lion Man

They didn't let me wear my lion suit and I always wear my lion suit. How would I run off into the jungle? A little boy can't but a lion can; a lion can do so much more then I could. He can fight and roar and run wild, he can take care of himself. If someone big and mean was going to hurt me all I would do is cry, but the lion would attack the scary person and bite them. He wasn't scared of anyone.
My new Mum said that my suit was silly, and dirty and stained as she undressed me, stealing my lion suit and seeing the week-old bruises that were hidden underneath. She told me a boy my age needs to grow up, that dress-ups are for toddlers and not 8 year old boys. She accidently put it in the red bin out the front, I saw her do it through my new bedroom window. I can see the whole street through this window, I see mothers walk past with prams and old people walking their big brown dogs. I saw two teenagers holding hands yesterday. And I saw my new next door neighbour fall off his bike. I can also see the red bin, where my lion suit was hiding.
My new Mum's name was Angela and she made spaghetti for dinner, it smelt really good and I was really hungry. As soon as she put it on the table I started eating, sucking the long strands of pasta into my mouth.
"Jacob!" I looked at Angela and swallowed my giant mouthful. "Have you not been taught manners? Hm?"
I wasn't too sure whether to answer her, and if I've learnt anything from my old parents it's that it's better when you don't talk. I don't like to talk. To anyone; teachers, parents, kids. If you don't talk you can't get in trouble. So I've zipped my mouth shut and locked it with a key that I hid in the back of my mind.
"Are you going to answer me?" I just looked at her, she looked like Dave but she was a girl. They both got the same creases in between their eyebrows when they got angry. "Put your fork down, and as a family we will say grace. And after grace, you will eat with both your knife and fork and close your mouth when you chew. Understand me?"
I nodded, even though I didn't. I didn't know what grace was or when it was going to be over, so I just looked at the now messy plate of spaghetti in front of me.
The whole family put their hands together and closed their eyes. Angela spoke about bread and her father, and thanked her dad for blessing the whole family and then she said my name. She thanked her father for saving me and giving me a new and safe home with a loving family. I didn't understand who she was talking to and why she was saying those things. Everybody then said Amen, even the older girl and the other little boy. They opened there eyes and they began to eat. I followed the leader.
It was after our meal and everybody left the table, I went back to my new room and just stared out the window. This house was so boring; it was so clean and quiet and Angela made so many rules. I didn't like having a bed time and I didn't like wearing clean clothes. The only rules I knew of back at my old home was to keep your mouth shut. And if you broke that rule then that's why you were punished. I never broke the promise, and I never told a soul.
Back at my old home I could do what I wanted; Mum was always drinking bottles of wine and didn't care where I was. She used to fight with her boyfriend Dave a lot; he kicked her until she bled some nights. He kicked me too, but I only ever bruised under my clothes so I could hide it and pretend he never did any of that. That was the rule; to pretend.
I also had to pretend I never saw him make my older sister take her clothes off, which was another rule of his games. He used to make her scream; I used to cover my ears when I could hear her and dream of the jungle. I could hear her now as I looked out the window, and it made me sad. I didn't want to be here.
When the house was silent and my new family was sound asleep, I crept like a mouse out the back door and over the white picket fence. I opened the red bin's lid to find my favourite lion suit which would set me free. The little mouse that had been so sneaky became a big fierce lion, and this lion was the bravest lion to ever live. He roared at the moon and ran away into the dark.

-2010.
Inspired by the photo Little Sad Lion Boy by eva44 on deviantart.