In an earlier incarnation, Hayden Veil enjoyed a successful career in software engineering, writing late-night poetry in pursuit of sanity. On 2 February 2020, the world of Hayden Veil changed: Ghosts became real and with its soul laid bare there was no turning back from the perpetual path of poetry.

Rubber End

By -

& so the story ended
Not with a bang
No balloons popping
But with a whimper
through letting go of
That rubber end,

untied

Filled to its brim
With life —

Wasted

red dwarf

By - 
A little red riding hood was your only cover,





I stood there naked in the rain





Dangling





Our lips touched briefly





Like two cats
Fighting at night, like a razor long
expired





against my puny feathers





of manhood.

My Meadow

By - 
I called her Meadow,
Overgrown and left to
Her own devices, to her
Own Piper’s calling.


I called her Meadow,
Untouched for decades
Yet still flowering,
Persistence is never futile
It seems.


I called her Meadow,
In my mind her silence
Echoed between absent
Trees, beneath stars of
Comfort living.


I called her Meadow
In my dreams

Shades of Failure

By - 
You may not know that
I share with you my inner
Being as truth be told.


You may not realise that
I share all with you
Keeping friends and family


In the shades, unknowing of
My achievements, unaware
Of my failures; ignorant of my


Essence


.

All Rise

By - 
A serpent’s call to arms 
a mother’s cry for a missing child 
a onesie with floppy ears 
a murder unsolicited 
our truth much less beneign 
our freedom here on trial

windfall from the gods

By - 
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Admittedly a mistake, I left the
Patio door wide open. The
Autumnal wind still full of
Summer brought the curtains to
Life; the dance of one brought my
Mind to a halt. Baffled I sat there
Wondering, where did it all go, the
Life now hardly remembered. The
Moments lost in the forest of
Wicked witches, the blossom honey
A windfall from the gods
Undesirable.

tiny wellies

By - 
I was bottle-fed from the very start,
A parental shame at an adequate
Temperature. Just right to set, like
Concrete in my tiny wellies, just right
To shape the path that lay ahead.
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