Friday, 15 August 2014

Headbreak



Heartache's like a pain in the head,
Sharp, persistent and sends you to bed.




Wednesday, 13 August 2014

Zodiac


I've been raking around this mind of mine
to pinpoint precisely, exactly, specifically
what handful of words should be said.
I know the lingo. The jargon.
The key- and buzzwords. Every cliche.
The question, really, is of order and form.
Designing a detailed structure, concisely,
to make up the key that unlocks a heart.
What curious combination turns
the world upside down and shakes you out
into the star-studded sky of my arms.
I'll make constellations of the language
draw a link between love and patience
imagine a line from heartache to heaven
and marry resignation to devotion,
hoping one day you'll see the future
written in the bright night sky.


Saturday, 2 August 2014

self


Every day I become less a thing of substance
My body is decommissioning, winding down
No synapses are firing; the mind is shot
Batteries are dead, the reasons run out
Self is the back of a bitter stranger
If I walked out this grey, barren night
and lay down in the road like a madman
there's no way I would count the stars
More likely I'd lifelessly eyeball the tar
or close my eyes and barely feel a final rain
No matter, just non-corporeal dead-weight
In the morning I'd barely be remembered
Just recalled sketchily as something...
...something? Was there something here
that used to be a person? I could swear...
But there would be nothing, no memory
just a patch in the road a shade lighter than the rest.


Friday, 1 August 2014

Wretched Orpheus


I must be the cruellest of men, Eurydice, my beloved. To promise the earth only to allow you to perish; not once but twice. First in my absence and then through negligence. My blind, willful thoughtlessness.

I took you for my wife and my love for you was unequalled. Unequalled and utterly unbridled. But you were beset by reservations that bit and coiled like vipers around your conscience and they took you from me.

This is death, your prison. The dusted redoubts and crumbling crenellations; the undesired traps of guilt I lay all around like macabre wires. But the love I bore for you compelled me to deliver you from your solitude.

Like a fool I thought to deal with the gods. And to think they humoured me. Made me believe my childish verse and hopeful song, even as they foresaw my folly. But my charms were flawed and finite.

I have passed the gates of hell and traversed the underworld for you. To bring you home, my love. But my journey is naught when compared to your long, bleak existence, once I recalled to you the sky and the sun and our warm hearth.

For what have I done but reminded you of what you can no longer love? Tempted you with riches, however humble, when you inevitably must remain in the desolate realm of Hades. Live as a ghost and eternally die.

They told me not to look back and so I endeavour. I must not look back. But all the time I feel my head turning, eyes frantic, rolling in their sockets. Are you still at my elbow? My gaze is ever-bound to fall on you and freshly condemn you to oblivion.


Thursday, 31 July 2014

Something Missing


I miss you.
I miss the structure of your words
and your diction, just so.
I miss your calm and the sound of your smile.
I long for fingers never felt
and your unseen teeth and tongue.
I miss the man I was
when I used to wake so early
just to get back to loving you.
The hope, the anticipation,
the racing of my heart
with every thought of you.
Our shared aversion, exasperation.
I miss being the buoy with all the answers
and it seems so very distant
though my heart holds you ever closer.
I miss you my love.


Tuesday, 29 July 2014

The one with the maelstrom


Let's recap
because I forget where we are.
Right now, are we drowning in despair
or simply resigned to sadness?
Are we pissed-off at the past
or looking to the future?

The fog between us is thickening
like ice on a window; I can't see clearly.
Maybe it's not the window.
Maybe you and I are shifting in the air
as dandelion heads blow this way and that.
The way déjà vu feels just out of reach
or hot air makes a jet engine quiver.

Sometimes I'm still some giddy balloon
because you are mine and I yours
and I wonder if love's the same when you're old.
Like, wrinkly and grey. Do you still walk taller?
Laugh more easily? Forget about death?

Other times I see you as incense dispersing
without even your scent to remember.
I'll imagine a hint on occasion
and have love flood back to me,
making any surrounding seem dull
and anyone present a dullard.

I have original thoughts all the time
of your perfume and orgasms.
Or of how I might fold and stitch
the fabric of space-time, knit us together
into a blissful woolly jumper of delight
with shoulder detail of stars and kisses.

I need to hear your voice to remember
what it was that made me better.
But I could not bear to disappoint you.
And I forget just where we are.
I forget where we are.


Sunday, 27 July 2014

Giants


You would've loved it today.
I took a walk among giants
looking upward all the way.
The light shone through their faces
and they spoke to me of things
I thought I understood.

They smiled when I talked of love
and shook their great heads when I told them
how long I would wait for you.
Time's no urgent thing for them
do you see?

Some were gnarled and armoured
as if dressed for battle.
Another'd a gaping wound in his breast
his heart torn open for all to see.
One had his limbs all hacked off;
some sort of surgical sanction
for what I do not know.

I walked in dappled sunshine
with the silence for company.
I forgot where I was.
Then I came upon a young one
in a clearing, greener than the others
and although he was yet to grow strong
he had a noble air about him.
Here is a future king of giants, I thought.
He had set himself apart and I was afraid
but a squirrel darted up his leg
and I saw he was a kindly fellow
with silver skin and golden hair.

We talked a while as the afternoon idled.
He thought our story a sad and beautiful one;
sympathised with our short lives
and said you'd be welcome to visit.
He told me his people were the guardians of eternity
that they could gift it to a lucky few -
the people made of stars.
He said we would understand
when we laid our eyes upon each other.

I left them there, searching the towering sky.
Over my shoulder, I saw how they spread their hands
to protect the dead and the grieving.