Thursday, 27 December 2012

New Year's Light

Softening twilight
of year’s end
eyes trained firmly ahead
no thought of what, could or might
as flashing rays
of new year’s light
melt the snow
of a year grown old
into pools
of brand new hope

Copyright 2012 Suzy Rigg

Monday, 24 December 2012

Midnight Mass

At midnight mass,
I’ll shed a tear
for this and every passing year
a light gone out
is shining still, 
an act of faith
an act of will
I’ll pray for love
I’ll pray for peace,
a bright new earth 
a sweet release
The Christ of old 
is here they say
I try to speak to him ev’ry day
he’s real you know
not just a joke
he even was 
a regular bloke
with more compassion
than you or I 
enough to blaze
the heavenly sky
I’ll think of him
this real man
and mirror him 
as best I can
from this day of
a brand new year
I’ll only shed 
a happy tear.

Copyright Suzy Rigg 2012

Tuesday, 4 December 2012

Tayles of Christmas Gone

Kaleidoscope dreams, beaded jewels of 
excitement filled Angelica's tightly-curled head
barely able to sleep as fantasy functional
families rampaged, became real as she slept

Commercials of sin with deceit woven in 
danced devilish and bright on the screen
jangling lies bedecked glittering skies 
that avoided number 45

Extravagant presents piled high full of guilt
whispered tales of a long absent father 
the empty seat at the head of the table
for guests who were eating alone

Conjuring pagan magic the thrill of 
pure Christmas, the room was transformed 
overnight! Cinnamon candles, orange
pomanders left hanging on threads of delight 

A hole in that house
where love had to leave, walk on ~ she had
shown him the door: but once a year darling
we put on our 'festive' 

And stand tall in traditions held dear.

Copyright 2012 Suzy Rigg 

This poem was prompted by those lovely people at

Dedicated to all sorts of gatherings this Christmas, this particular festival can often highlight the dysfunction in our immediate families or even the loss or absence of family members, through divorce illness or death. I admire the hope and grace of the human spirit, especially those who forge on alone or in difficult circumstances, to mark this pagan festival as the beginning and ending that it represents.

Sunday, 25 November 2012

Daily Grind or Black Something

The daily grind is there for that
to pulverize your soul
with meditation prayer and rest
you will regain your whole

Working in a job you love, 
feels not like work at all
this, my friend is where to aim
to fulfill your life's true role

Making money makes you rich
but does not give you peace
in time my friend, you must let go 
to feel your SELF release

The more you earn, the more you spend
is no contrary notion
the act of earning just gears you up
for more, and intense spending

Review your life, take stock,stop now!
to feel where you are going
while bricks and banks are piling up
sweet beauty is past you flowing

The international language spake today
it seems is simply money, 
but love, compassion honesty 
take charge in their abundance

There is no scarcity in these things
they're free, just deep within us.

Copyright Suzy Rigg 2012

Friday, 9 November 2012

Elephant Highway

Unbalanced carts spilled sun ripe fruit
on the dust strewn road
splitting colours, splashing seed
to meet the market dawn.

Spindly children tried to run
alongside heavy traps
some were strong and long of limb
and barely caught their breath.

Bicycles too, took their own road
and weaved their wheels about
the death they cheated,
although in jest, made
villagers shout out loud.

The noise grew low
for something strong
had taken up this path
a silver grey bull elephant
was on this very route!

Without a sound
the track was cleared
of children, wheels and fruit
whilst 'mister majestic' walked
~ in no par-tic-u-lar hurry ~

Without a backward glance.

Copyright Suzy Rigg 2012

This poem was inspired by the artwork of Borg de Nobel, browse her wonderous artwork here: courtesy of the ever innovative dVerse Poets crew:

Bruised hearts

Suddenly in grief
life is glazed with mystery
puzzling, divine

shards of glass dance 
across hearts 
strewn with pain

'cast your grisly sorrow
lacerate in vain!'
for joy returns tomorrow.

Copyright Suzy Rigg 2012

Dorcas Hope Walker, RIP mummy.

Tuesday, 30 October 2012

Lutes on the Hillside

Carry me away
just for one day
where ladies with lutes
and unicorns play
where castle towers’ steep
make clouds o'er them creep
sun’s burnt rays blush, 
wild melodious blaze 
melt to soft creamy heat
carry me away 
to hear harps at play
soft music, sweet 'suckle
oh just for one day?

Copyright Suzy Rigg 2012

Sunday, 28 October 2012

Walking Poet

Maddeningly they flow when I walk
as if the action of walking, makes brain talk
when I’m not near a pen, paper, computer
words glide along, hanging gracefully together
maddeningly they flow when I walk

The action of walking makes brain talk
so clear are the rhymes so memorably strong
Surely they'll stick, edited
stored by the server of thoughts?
maddeningly they flow when I walk

Inspired my holograms of life's strange mysteries
Gestures, a moving scene caught
the stanza by now has gained its own meter
the action of walking sparking a thought
maddeningly they flow when I walk

I will write this as soon as I’m home!
develop this, work on the theme
spending time out building empires
damn they're gone, as soon as the door shuts
maddeningly they flow when I walk

Taking a moment in a small noisy cafe
strong coffee, a paper and bright conversation
just one small spoonful of hot, sweet black liquid
triggers in me that familiar sensation,
volcanic thoughts spewing words
right here, I can catch them.

Copyright Suzy Rigg 2012

The article below explores the relationship between mental health and poetry. From my experience and all I will concede, is that labels can enslave you or liberate you. Whatever your state of mind, if the will decides it needs to write, you have no choice. There is an honesty and honour too, in acknowledging that your words outlive you, they also have the power to heal, excite and touch others divinely.

Thursday, 25 October 2012


She watched them falling through the bus window,
in slow motion like dandelions from a giant upended field
crimson leaves curled and fell, swaying side to side
forming a variegated rouge brown carpet.

The mother and child on the park bench, people on the bus
delicate pensioners, everyone stilled in rapt appreciation
of her rainbow shower, aware this magnificent show 
was for a limited time only.

Wordlessly, relentlessly, with a glamourous last russet hurrah
she tidied away for a more barren and sinister act to follow
her generosity and voluptuousness 
casting lingering relaxed and happy shadows 

As she finally revealed herself naked
everyone’s thought was the same:
"she never fails to put on a show
yet each one thrills as if for the first time."

Copyright Suzy R 2012

Friday, 19 October 2012

A turning circle

Shiny men lined up
jostling for her attention
she knocked them all down

together they'd walked life's path 
humming a familiar tune 
laughing, loving,living  
gone too soon


Inching and ebbing
her beating heart lost power
leaving golden sparks.

Copyright Suzy Rigg 2012

Monday, 8 October 2012


We could be fossils, you and I
pressed flat after centuries 
of lying inert in the rock.

Curious that the tiny hermit crab
the roman centurion
the colossal dinosaur
would share the same fate:
To be peered at, fondled 
by some scholarly archaeologist.

Consider the sweet relief
of our fossilised friends:

hermit crab - free from food chain dramas
soldier -  shielded from the blistering rays of midday sun
dinosaur - not anxious about anything big
like being wiped off the planet.

Roll up, roll up for fossil school!
A snapshot of life, in death.

Copyright Suzy R 2012

Saturday, 29 September 2012

Pretty Mister Piri Piri

Improbably named Luigi has skin like
dark chocolate mousse; its soft foam
looks like the mere touch of a finger,
would dent the perfection of his luminous face.

Slender, toned legs that push his body skywards
curve at the hip forming a svelte waist:
A woman trapped in a man’s body
he moves and sways with the elegance of a geisha
taking complex orders
whilst steadily holding your gaze
and beaming from the tips of his heart.

As you are leaving, but before
he casts his potent 'diner' spell on
new customers, he says:
‘Thank you for coming to Nandos!’ And you know, he means it.

I love the gentle nudging from the dVerse team, it works like this: here are some lovely stimulating ideas, new poetry styles and forms, now go and WRITE A POEM! 

Copyright Suzy R 2012

Friday, 28 September 2012

Mourning Song

For one so alive
it is hard to believe, you are gone.
Like the melody of a much-loved song
your refrain lives on.
Suspended in the twilight 'tween light and death
straddling in vain ‘twix dark and life
straining to be understood but
simply wanting to be somewhere else, entirely... 
Since you’ve gone, the days have stretched
into wafered sheets of gold leaf; 
memories of you hold a shining sting
oh came back - please!
I promise to bind you in the loving threads
of whispered eternity.

Copyright Suzy Rigg 2012

Looking at the date, I wrote this one before mum passed away.
Much of our knowledge or 'knowing' is buried deep in our subconscious minds; poetry is one of the ways I access this hidden part of me. 

Wednesday, 19 September 2012

Fallen Leaves

Autumn breeze plucks leaves from trees
that touch the ground so gently
leaving branches pining, asking
why have the leaves ceased to sway?

Kindly soil so richly deep
envelopes falling leaves to sleep
waltzered slowly round and round
before they touch the waiting ground

Children kicking crinkly leaves
beneath benevolent aged trees
while winter's gentle setting sun
breathes heat of autumn peace.

I hope you rest in perfect peace and your family find the strength 
to let peace into their hearts to fill the void where you used to stand.

For Martin, RIP.
Copyright Suzy R 2012

Saturday, 15 September 2012


Silently floating with oceanic calm
Watchful, vigilant, poised yet stern
Inscrutable eyes flashing violent charm
Gliding along the sun flushed lake.

Copyright Suzy R 2012


Love is
Eternal. One hundred and two years ago 
you were born when I was still stardust 
we loved each other
we didn’t need to be alive
for our love to ignite.

Before you found room in my womb
I loved you eternal stranger
you are a new light in my love
agonisingly familiar
although we have 
only just met.

The strands of love 
that join all of us 
to each other through 
generations of unknowing 
are unfathomably exciting
unimaginably frustrating.

Connections with others 
who you have known before you  
knew yourself, illuminate life
casting delicate
stitches ~of ~love 
that are eternal. 

Copyright Suzy R 2012

Tuesday, 4 September 2012

Prayer for Humanity

the news is becoming more violent
the truth is becoming more silent 
do it now, or do it never
we really need to join together 
the way of the future 
is love.

Copyright Suzy R 2012

Thursday, 30 August 2012

Tritina for Clara

Clara liked to slip on her pyjamas of the palest pink
after a long day in court. She craved the sleep
that called her, from the four-poster bed, beckoning soft.

Refreshed from her sleep
she breakfasted on grapefruit, not ruby red, but pink
and brushed her hair until it was soft.

Dusting powder onto rosy cheeks so pink
pouting in the mirror as Chanel lipstick caressed lips so soft
she winked at her reflection, glad she’d had a good night’s sleep.

She drove off, all sweet, sleepy pinkness, in her black Mercedes SL.

Copyright Suzy R 2012

More props to the dVerse team for setting such interesting poetic tasks. This poem is a tribute to the glorious poet Marie Ponsot.

Saturday, 25 August 2012

Elephant Highway

Unbalanced carts spilled sun ripe fruit
on the dust strewn road
splitting colours, splashing seed
to meet the market dawn.

Spindly children tried to run
alongside heavy traps
some were strong and long of limb
and barely caught their breath.

Bicycles too, took their own road
and weaved their wheels about
the death they cheated,
although in jest, made
villagers shout out loud.

The noise grew low
for something strong
had taken up this path
a silver grey bull elephant
was on this very route!

Without a sound
the track was cleared
of children, wheels and fruit
whilst 'mister majestic' walked
~ in no par-tic-u-lar hurry ~

Without a backward glance.

Copyright Suzy R 2012

This poem was inspired by the artwork of Borg de Nobel, browse her wonderous artwork here: courtesy of the ever innovative dVerse Poets crew:

Be gentle with me

Lovingly massaging unscented oil into baby’s velvet skin
Kneading, ironing out soft wrinkles
She felt dream-like, 
as if she were caressing herself-
hypnotised with love
paralysed with fear
this angelic babe
sweating slightly,
heavy limbed was
totally dependent on her.
An hour had passed,
sweet baby scent perfumed the air
her tears mingled with oil
she had no idea who
gave who more


The corset hugged her baby-bump
She was almost hour-glass again
the uniform black pinstripe
white shirt, red gloss,
hair or nails ~ but not both
lent her insane confidence.
An hour had passed,
the meeting in 
the airless room
had over run.
Through polished glass
she spotted a group of mothers
casual, laughing, free;
her breasts tingled with milk
for her baby
at home.
Copyright Suzy R 2012

The debate rolls on about working mothers, or stay at home mothers: what's best for baby, what's best for mum or indeed the whole family. My view is it's rarely that cut and dried; the reasons to work or not are purely personal and are influenced by an alarming array of factors.

So, this poem is really saying there is pain, depression, guilt on both sides of the fence. Sometimes, what feels like the absolute best decision today, can feel like an anchor round your neck, the next. Women, be kind to each other ~ being a mother is at once the most challenging yet rewarding blessings known to 'man'!

Wednesday, 8 August 2012



In stadium est laudum ~ the goal is to praise
to be lifted up above competitors' heads
on the roar and swell of human approval as
the endurance of my personal pain is a torch half-lit
without the fire of admiration, to strike it into full flame
there is no merit in weightless feet pounding the earth at breathless speed
unless the eyes of a million cities are gazing on them in wonder.


There is no 'i' in team, is a laughable phrase as clearly,
the team would be nothing without me
I carry them, us, our country, the world, ME!
Oh sweet victory, let this be my, I mean our, moment
of crowning glory!


I'm watching, straining as far as my eyes can see
surely those dots on the screen can't be real?
what's real is the man next to me, well his stink
does he need to be inebriated to enjoy this spectacle?


It's pointless standing apart during this once in a lifetime opportunity
So I'll merge with the crowd I'm crushed with, like family
and cheer for my team, my country, my heroes ~
In stadium est laudum

Copyright Suzy R 2012

This poem was also published in the June issue of What the Dickens Magazine. And what a fabulous read it is too! Well done Editor.

Wednesday, 25 July 2012

Step into Spring

Throw off the blankets of winter
Slip off your overcoat’s gloom
Wipe off the makeup of hope
Take down the baubles in the room

Push away the pastries and cakes
Nibble on lemons instead
Stretch your legs, expand your lungs
Let the breeze lighten your head

Fling open the shutters of your mind
Remove the dirty drapes
Throw away moth-chewed jumpers
Create some new space

De-clutter your heavy wardrobe
Make love to your fragrant wife
Walk barefoot on warm pavements
Re-introduce yourself to life

Tuesday, 10 July 2012

Big Hosen

Smashing the
plentiverse of ideas
shaking thought into truth
carefully unfolding the doubt
of humanity

Leaving black planets
alone to ponder
their own magnificence
and splendor
brave but misunderstood

A great undoing of the doing
shadows cast by ego,
truth is victory!
rang the Universe

Particles of soup erupting from
the pit of nothingness
revealing the secret
that never was
since time began.

All verses copyright Suzy R 2012

Wednesday, 13 June 2012

A Toast

Some have meat and have no teeth
Some have teeth but have no meat
But we have teeth and we have meat
So let us all sit down and eat!

(Accompanied by uproarious laughter, always)

My grandfather taught me this little rhyme, in his thick Jamaican accent with perfect diction, oh how we laughed.

Sunday, 10 June 2012


Gnawing at your heart
Rolling down your cheeks are tears
Impossible to imagine the pain that is
Eating you up inside until the intensity of the
Feelings fade ~ but the memory of you never will.

For all of us, at some time, have loved and lost...the love is eternal.

All rights reserved.

Saturday, 26 May 2012

Secrets of the Lake

I lie beneath the purple lake
no sound but breathing do I make
the water cool and cold is deep
the stillness makes me want to sleep 
forever beneath the purple sun
where water, sky and trees are one.
Stones reflected strong and grey
Remind me of the bygone day 
when demons danced inside so deep
disturbed my peace
making a purple lake look deeply safe.

Wednesday, 23 May 2012

Relationship 2

Realising your thoughts are permeated with thoughts of your lover,

Elevated feelings create sensations that make you wonder at creation itself


Amazingly unique and 

Thankfully a recurring theme on the human landscape

In spite of the complexity of human emotions,

Our spirit is trained on expansion and

Nothing expands the human

Soul as much as the


Intimate and loyal embrace of the

Person you love, who loves you back.

All rights reserved.

To be read in partnership with 'Relationship 1'

Tuesday, 22 May 2012

Relationship 1

Rudely ignoring each other’s

Evident pain

Lies (only small ones) are an everyday occurance

And yet you are 

Tied to them, tightly bonded although

Intimacy died several years ago, leaving an

Opening to be filled by trivial and other

Naughty pursuits, you feel

Sadness that the relationship has changed course but

Happy, that you are no longer ‘on the market’

It’s complex, but

Perhaps there is something in this marriage lark, after all.

All rights reserved.

To be read in partnership with Relationship 2

Sunday, 20 May 2012

Mother Light

The light of a new mother’s moonlight
which bathes her infant in protective beams
fades each passing year as the infant matures.
This rite of passage stimulates umbilical cords 
of independence to unravel, snaking their way to freedom.

When the infant finds its first voice, not the weeping
but the lyrical turns of ‘yes’ and ‘no’
there is in this, the defining of the ego;
not something the mother dreamed of
whilst flicking through pastel coloured baby magazines.

The desire to walk and run soon 
transmutes into dark steps of danger:
the unseen car, the ferocious dog, the reversing swing
lying in wait to hurt you,
your freedom comes at a high price.

Time rushes forward like wind 
baby's evolution into adult is complete.
Dancing to the beats of hormonal heaven
emitting sighs of longing
mother has long forgotten.

Reminders of the heights of desire you touched 
before the babies arrived:
your cheeky baby-snatchers
stealing passion,
in return for muted contentment.

Copyright Suzy R 2012

Find out more about this beautiful Kelley MacDonald artwork here:

Wednesday, 16 May 2012

Look of Love

Neither of them were conventionally beautiful
His spine curved at the top, into a small hunchback,
Dense ape-like hair poked out of the top of his jumper
He was about thirty, but looked older 
As he smiled warmly at his beau, eyes crinkling.

Her glasses were very think indeed.
She was shorter than him and could have passed for his mother
With her lank, greying hair,
But as he draped his arm protectively around hers and went in for several
Passionate kisses, it was clear they were lovers.

As they waited patiently in the queue for the bus,
He eyed the road anxiously, hoping for a traffic delay 
to extend the time with his loved one.
When the bus eventually came, they discussed their plans for the evening
What the weather may hold, the time for parting was near.

“See you tomorrow!” she said brightly watching as he got on the bus.
Fully-loaded with weary passengers, 
She waited as the bus pulled out into the traffic,
Her eyes locked on his as she blew kisses to her lover,
With the most girlish and beautiful face.

All rights reserved.

Sunday, 13 May 2012

Wild Boy

Bottled mischief escaped him like fresh lemonade
After pretending to sleep 
And listening to mama’s sweet bedtime song,
Watching her through closed eyes he’d wanted to  
Sing too, but howling at the moon
Might have caused her to scream.

Falling out of the window was no big deal
It didn't hurt anyway,
Landing on concrete would have really hurt
But as wolf-boy-a handsome one at that-
He was invincible.

Drunk on the freedom of night air and no sleep
The was no particular plan
Maybe pull the tale off next door’s cat?
Throw stones at squirrels! he giggled 
As he smoothed down his baby soft fur.

All rights reserved.

Mother Processor

I am the mother processor
blending food not moods
dissecting tantrums of sibling rivalry 
slicing up ribbons of childhood frustration
into bite-size chunks.

When I’ve done this,
I begin to mix mother-juice;
that delicious blend of love, wisdom and protectiveness 
full of free radicals, nothing but the best for my family
I’m not even sure they notice.

Then I start with the vacuum cleaner
sucking up arguments of spiteful words
said throughout the day
folding up old resentments
to store neatly in the drawer.

Throughout the house I see you naked
discarded snacks and dirty clothes,
the parts of yourself you wish to hide
but I know who you really are
and keep your secrets in silence.

Fragments of toys with sharp edges lacerate my feet
as I try to clear your floor
of your symbols of active play
so completes my mother ritual
it’s the same for most of the mamas.

All rights reserved.

The beautiful artwork used to illustrate the poem is the front cover artwork from Mirror of My Future, Reflection of my Past.
Mara Friedman