Jason Creed: I'm 27 years old, live in Surrey, England. I've had poems published in a number of magazines. I'm editor of a fanzine, Pynk Moon, which is dedicated to the life and music of Nick Drake (enquiries welcome: jcreed@pynkmoon.freeserve.co.uk)




My Mind Is Like A Child

My mind is like a child
in a great big unfamiliar house,
running up and down flights of stairs,
opening doors, entering rooms,
climbing into strange wardrobes,
giant beds, crawling under tables
and chairs, exploring drawers,
finding long cold empty corridors,
walking into darkened cupboards,
getting scared and standing still,
then running merrily on,
following shafts of sunlight,
standing on wide windowsills
behind huge curtains,
staring out at endless beckoning views,
longing to know what lies
beyond those distant horizons.


Copyright 1999 by Jason Creed




Sliding

on the ice in the playground,
one winter at school,
one of the older boys slipped,
banged his head and had a fit.

He lay there on his side,
eyes open wide, head
jerking up and down, knocking
against the ground, until
blood oozed from his temple
and coloured the frozen snow
strawberry-ice-lolly-red.

We all stood and stared, our
breath hanging in the air,
suspended in an emptiness
which deadened every sound
except the sickening thud, thud, thud
of his head against the ground.

Eventually one of the other
older kids went over, held
the boy's head against the ice
until it was still, and laid a leather
jacket over his shoulder.

Then the boy came round,
and the teachers took him away,
blood still dripping from his head.
And we all carried on sliding,
but not where the ice was red.


Copyright 1999 by Jason Creed




Doughnut

My dad was driving us home
from a holiday in Belgium,
and we passed by
just after it happened.

She had come off her moped,
and her legs, short socks and sandals
were poking out of the blanket
which covered her body and head.

It had been raining,
the road was shiny and wet,
and a thick, paint-like stream of red
flowed down to the gutter.

My mum told me not to look,
but I saw her
and the group of shook up witnesses nearby.
I was eating a doughnut at the time.


Copyright 1999 by Jason Creed



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