In My Own Words – Page 82 – The Poems of David Garlick

In my house there are rules for spiders.

We may come and go as we wish.

But if we foolishly wander the flag stones;

underfoot, we may end up as squish!

It’s OK to live in a corner,

in a crack or under the fridge

but hang from the light or the curtains.

Then its “curtains;” slap, bang and then squidge.

I’d a name and a place in the corner.

I had it made in spidery way.

But one day in a foolish moment.

I was tempted and wandered astray.

On flowers, placed in the window.

I sunbathed while eating a fly.

And now in a cold, damp garden,

banished, in my anguish, I cry.

David Garlick, Limpley Stoke, England, September, 1999

There’s a dragon that lives in our basement.

He sleeps right under the stairs.

I know he’s there ‘cos I’ve seen him

and smelt his breath on the air.

At night, when it’s quiet, I hear him.

For he breaths with a rumbling noise.

But I’m not afraid of our dragon

for I’m told he likes little boys.

Not to eat, no, just to be friendly

but in case he forgets now and then.

I always carry a cookie

in my pocket when visiting him.

He has teeth that gleam in the darkness.

His tail makes a slithering sound.

His claws are extremely pointed.

His eyes are enormously round.

But I’m glad that we have a dragon

that lives down under our stairs.

‘Cos he’ll frighten away any baddies

that could come and give us a scare.

David Garlick, Victoria, 1988

Content within a warm dark place.

why would I, should I want to leave?

Is this my haven secure and safe,

must I endure the strife of hell?

Warm I feel my mothers breast,

safe and loving till I rest.

Content to feed and defecate,

is this all there is to life?

For I can scream and I can cry,

till the wants or passions fade.

Blurs are all my eyes can see,

warmth and love and strength don’t leave.

Now I see another world,

knees and noses very high.

Hugs and kisses to endure.

Back to Mom once more secure.

Will I ever seem that strong?

Are they really all that sure?

Do they ever make mistakes?

Can they truly understand?

Many things are black and white.

Some are various shades of gray.

Is our life a colour code of

brilliant hues or subtle shades?

David Garlick (Sedated In Intensive care), Victoria, April, 1986

She runs the winding towpath of my life.

Sometimes an instant there and then she’s gone –

to reappear, a glimpse around a bend,

through stands of plants, the hazing of the years.

A fleeting picture, though of long ago,

now veiled in time and blurred in falling tears.

And though I’m sure, like me, the years have etched

lines of life’s triumphs, laughter and regrets,

yet in my mind’s eye she remain the same,

a lovely creature free to run with grace.

David Garlick, Kennet and Avon Canal, England, July, 1997