Poems have a way of just appearing. Often they come unannounced, bursting out of the silence, screaming to be heard and written down then and there. They are brutal. They don’t negotiate. And they rarely give a second chance. Thus, I have learnt too always be open and ready. I always have something to write on with me; I sleep with a notepad under my pillow, and exercise with another close at hand. I have had the conversation with my family, letting them know that there will be times when I simply must stop whatever it is I am doing to go and write…