Monthly Archives: May 2015

Home. Haiku


please carry me home
I hear lush childhood meadows
softly call my name

© Jane Paterson Basil


Another Tasty Morsel

laura and jane crystal 2

my daughter’s in the grip of a ghastly ghoul
which cannot be constrained by the laws of the land
it grows fat on the flesh of those careless fools
who have staggered onto its chemical hand

once it has grasped them it won’t let go
it consumes the flesh and it addles the head
and fear and conspiracies enter the soul
they all end up crazy and some end up dead

and while greedy governments ignore our young
in their bid to find excuses to starve the poor
the outlawed crystal lewdly wags it tongue
grins at his victims then squeezes some more

with feline cheek he plays with my offspring
he stretches her tether then he sets her free
but within his reach, confidently offering
another tasty morsel, dispite the guarantee

that the next fix will bring more devastation
she’ll be stalked and abused by invisible foes
her madness will drive her into isolation

jane 010BeFunky laura closer

BeFunky laura brownBeFunky laura 2

© Jane Paterson Basil

Final Hit

image adapted by Jane Basil from:

“just one final hit
tomorrow I will get clean
just this one last hit”

her drug-dusted wings
lift me from my muddied mire
until tomorrow

the daybreak brings pain
“tomorrow I will be stronger
after this final ——”


a heartless promise
kept by the needle’s swift pierce
brings blackened silence

stretching out until
loved ones who have grieved for years
fill it with their tears

concealing whispers
which slowly gain momentum
to become a chant

increasing masses
of lost and weakened people
join the throng and cry

“just one final hit
tomorrow I will get clean
just this one last hit”

© Jane Paterson Basil

Bryony’s Doll

tired 2

Every Saturday evening they
stand in line outside her door
the stud at the front waits his turn
exchanges a bold look with an
exitting daredevil
grins at a braggardly remark
mirrors a lewd visual suggestion
then enters, to eagerly defile
her famished love vessel

Stag nights guarantee
increased proclivity
expanded activity
vile cockerels stride away
crowing” I gave her what for”
“I’ve had better, but at least it’s free”
ostentatiously zipping their fly
sniggering her latest nickname
brash in their virile manhood

between the last
grunt and the dawn
she lies awake, alone…
turns onto her side
unsticking her thighs
from unsavoury seed
spent by uncaring bedfellows

remembering what her teacher said
“it’s what people do when they’re in love”

those unkind girls taunted
“nobody would love brain-dead Bryony
because she can’t even read or write”
but they must have been wrong
because every weekend the men
queue up to love her

but then they are gone

no one stays to share her daybreak
no one plants kisses in her hair

and when the slipping sadness tries to surface
when the hurtful, hidden question
the secret un-acknowledgeable knowledge
the glaring staring quickening sickening truth
threatens to burst from her brain
the echoing cry of a baby breaks through

dragging moist cotton in her wake
she dashes to the phantom sound coming
from the cot in the corner
gently she reaches beneath the blankets
soothingly she whispers words of love
sweetly she kisses the tiny head
softly she caresses the cool plastic body

insidious fluid rolls down her legs
indifferently vacating her barren womb

© Jane Paterson Basil

Ten Word Story Challenge

This is fun:

The challenge: Make a ten word story using the following five words!

  • Fedora
  • Patagonia
  • Pink
  • Melancholy
  • pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis (apparently the longest word in the dictionary and it means a lung disease caused by inhalation of very fine silica or quartz dust!)


oh, melancholic Pategonia,
take my Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.
leave my pink fedora


Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis killed Pategonia
a melancholy pink fedora floats


Melancholy in Pategonia
Pink fedora without
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis within.


A pink melancholy sky
A fedora
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis in disguise


In Pategonia my Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis hides beneath a melancholy pink fedora


© Jane Paterson Basil

A Bitter Victory


The government has declared its intention to place a blanket ban on all of the legal highs which are so irresponsibly sold to ignorant victims throughout this country.

who wilfully
continue to peddle
these lethal powders and pills
will risk seven years

This is our awaited victory
but it will not heal our sick nation
these abominations will still
insidiously spill
through the fingers of criminals
into the pockets
of the un-listening
in search of a chemical thrill
to take away their dissatisfaction
their disenfranchisement
and all of the other
disses that they feel

some of them will die and some will merely become ill.
their skin stick to their bones, or turn grey and wrinkle
some will see strange things which no-one else can see

worms under the skin

secret messages on old receipts

people watching them from rooftops

hidden enemies with weird agendas

some will jump off bridges to their deaths
some will merely cease breathing in their sleep
some will make it to a medical ward before expiring


A statement by the home office informs us that the Bill’s purpose is: “to protect hard-working citizens from the risks posed by untested, unknown and potentially harmful drugs.”

And it shocks me to see those words so brazenly stated.
are the hardworking citizens the only people of significance?

What of the victims of abuse, of sickness and pain, of mental illness, of this self-righteous government’s callous methods of leadership which ignore the vulnerable?

What of those who have never managed to grab an opportunity because they are weaker than the rest?

And where is your gratitude, you members of parliament, you movers and shakers, you climbers to the top on the of the ladder, you well oiled, well educated, well-to-do upstanding members of the community?

Where is your gratitude, because somebody has to be downtrodden, down-at heel, down and out in this capitalist society in which you thrive, and if it wasn’t them, it could be you.

Your callous wording is another way of inciting the low paid to hate and dispise the unemployed and unemployable.

Those traumatised ex-servicemen
who fought your wars for you
were hardworking citizens before they
ran screaming from their families
to die in the dirt of the streets

Is this bill not intended to help preserve what is left of them?

Or perhaps you think that only ‘respectable’ individuals take legal highs – those smart university students who later graduate to city suits and a middle-class cocaine habit.

© Jane Paterson Basil