T H E  V I E W


The view from my bed is strange

There’s a window to a wall

Red brick, white brick

And a giant silver pipe

Caught in a fiery sliver of sleepy sun 

As it snakes away from today

And I’m glad for a day off.


The view from my bed is strangely comforting 

My bed that is a stranger 

My broken heart splayed out

Face down 

Like an insolent child, starfished 

In an empty space under the sheets next to me

I’m trying not to look at it

It’s trying not to look at me.


We succeed.


The view from my bed is a frame 

Strangling the outside world with a glassy look and a painted smile

And yet, clarity finds me

Even though I don’t want to be found 

I want to live in a cloud of memories

Good and bad

(Mostly bad, because the good ones hurt more).


The view from my bed escapes

As no other before 

And no other again 

So I want to catch it

To get as close as I can to holding our moment 

To honour my streaming consciousness 

And encourage my brokenness 

So that I can visit again

When I’m feeling brave.


K. Lao

May 20, 2018

On 20CB Tour 2018

On a day off in Nottingham with Amber May.

Window gazing

Feeling serene

This may pass

But now’s all I need. 

K. Lao

Leaning on a window sill in High Wycombe.

June 23, 2018






I am thinking about black and white

About the limited words we have to describe

Our hearts

Our curves

Our lines

And how we use words to describe more than one thing

The keys on this piano

The key to my heart

The bass line

My face lines

My life lines

Sets of keys, unlocking

These are each the same word

The ghost of one settles into another

And I think of how I’ve lined these up in a subconscious row

An association

In a melody line, in a turn of a verse

In a piece that I wrote. 


K. Lao

Mesmerised by rows and lines

In East London

June 25, 2018