The Split

Well, National Poetry Day passed me by, as did World Mental Health Day.

In honour of forgetting both these important days I have written a blog for Under the Fable Magazine about Poetry and Mental Health. You can find it here.

Further embracing themes of split/multiple personalities in quite a blunt, uneducated way, I have written a split poem entitled ‘The Split’.


We had walked                 We     walked

Hand in hand

Through snow                   Through

To the patisserie

Where we bought

Oven warm bread                           warm

And salted butter

And paid in change

We waited

A little too long                 little

In the doorway                        doorway

Staring out at the cold                    S

You clung onto the bread

Like some thermal torpedo

As we raced                          we raced

Through the sumptuous blanket               Through

Of bitter sunshine                           bitter

And pillow soft snow

And when we got home

We ate the sweet bread                                         sweet

With the butter

Leaving salt crystals on our tongue

And tears in our eyes                     tears

We forgot everything                    We

And began wanting                             began

Again                               again.

©Stuart Buck