Bed of Nails

Here is a poem called BED OF NAILS from my next poetry collection (called STRING THEORY) which tackles the issues of mental health / PTSD.



Thank you for your generosity.

How can I ever repay you?


I’ve had trouble sleeping for years,

a chiropractor would be good  –

someone to crunch my bones back into place

after all those nights huddled up in street doorways,

alleyways by the bins.


But you’ve gone one better.

How can I ever repay you?


I dreamed of exotic beauty spa treatments in the rain.

My damp clothes were hot massage towels worn in the after-glow.


I dreamed of watching magical Indian healers working on me.

Old Hindu fakirs aligning my body and mind in perfect harmony.


But you went one better.

How can I ever repay you?


The flat park benches weren’t doing me any good,

not helping my curved spine.

You took them away, shut the park at night

gave the warden a bonus for doing so,

it’s probably for the best.


Teach me.


You are so wise,

so thoughtful

how can I ever repay you,

when all you want for me to do

is learn the tricks of magical Indian rope men?


Spikes that come out of the ground at night

at my favourite street sleeping spot –

Therapeutic bed of nails,

such thoughtful luxury.

I feel blessed.


How can I ever repay you?

When all I’ve learnt to do is disappear.