Jamesy
I live in London and try drawing poems.
I've got worse with age, really - these things made sense about 5 years ago.
Anyway, thanks for popping by!
A sneaking eel of light from the gawking
eye of the sun afar
awakens a trickle of sweat down the face
and a visible vein
to serve reverence to an otherwise apathetic soul;
it has been dead since the end of life
when black cats looked sweet and little children
were unafraid of barking dogs,
their lips worked in tandem with their inner selves,
when trust was earned by word and deed.
The fibres that encroach in their frontal
are as wild as the emotions that must run undetected,
dreams and wishes to teach what's not been learnt
a strength built through years of weakness,
depth that has dug deeper than the shallow look
of low self esteem and constant anxiety
smeared in a smile, the best under our sun.
They looked into the distant skies and said,
Life can't kill me. Only death will...
And smiled back at the staring eye
Of the sun afar.
Loving you turned an angel
into a craving hoodlum
chasing shadows into a hunt
and lines into circles
that never hit the epicentre;
on your turn do not hurt
what could not be cannot be
A four-digit number you provide
From which I will tell youse
Off the top of my part-time brain
Our answer will start with number two
Followed by two subtracted from
The four digit number you gave.
Clear?
Another four-digit number you provide
From which I will give youse
Off the top of my warmed-up brain
Your number subtracted from
Nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety nine.
Stay with me.
A final four digit number you provide
From which I will work out my magic:
Nine thousand nine hundred and ninety nine
Subtract your number.
And so we have five four-digit numbers.
Correct?
Tongue in cheek now,
We will add together the five four-digit numbers
And get the answer I gave at start!
I am smart, I am!
At the dawn of the year we spoke
loud enough to form a whisper,
and we said
we must write loud words
quiet enough so they can't be said;
we saw clouds that bore no rain,
sun that was cold as ice;
we heard sweetness
from the lips of bitterness
and were in luck to get a helping hand
from the same that sank our ship;
and the memo said we must say
but say only whispers,
that we must write
and write aloud;
do these words read as loud
as these words are wrote?
do the words we wrote,
tender, loud, rough and quiet,
with an alloy of jealousy and love
show the burning side of a soothing
contentment of belonging?
At the dusk of the year we'll see.
From the debris of my heart
Came wet ink and a feather,
With which I dribble these words -
So I've begun.
With a shiver in my spine
And a bubble in my eye
I reach for wisdom from deep,
For my next verse.
I run miles and a half,
From the shadow of you and I
Casting demons out of air
Into a mind of mine.
For this here verse
I pray for small mercies
That if you will dear Lord,
Help me make sense.
From below a pool of sweat,
I emerge still alive,
With spirit and finally,
With a love you won't see.
With a love you won't hear,
- Help me dear Lord -
With a love you won't read...
And I run out of ideas!
So, good ol' bubble-and-squeak,
Shall we just sit and eat,
Then after sip from the pit
Of this our quiet love!
These lines they have drawn
Faces they have painted with blood
Mixed with spit and tears -
Eyes rotten beneath the filth;
Trust is worn on many a face that
Unlike these, are visible clear as crystal,
Their respective heads say more,
Their abiding hearts are frozen as ice.
In pitch darkness we awake,
Set out to tear the skies open,
Poke the skin of princess Sun
We whisper in her ears:
Shine, Sun, shine.
She doesn't.
If we place a hand on them,
We hear the smile that won't show
On a face dead as death,
We can whisper to a heart
That feels more than ears filled with mud.
At long last princess Sun shines,
Ice melts away into water
That flows and washes mud out
Which kills death dead,
There is life.
To which we are no more than villains...
We want what we cannot have.
...enters the princess with modelled lips,
cheekbones ruling her face
and the aura is deliciously edible,
whose crumbs are swept by her cloak,
sewn in nirvana,
sewn with love.
exits the joker,
with his scary face and weird ways...
more of the princess please:
bow lights upon her head
cue to the hundred of pairs of eyes
this is the princess worth your sterling
look,
look you must.
enters the quiet noise of her microphone,
her chords are silent as silence,
her hands holding onto her fingers,
her head sitting well on her neck
and her hair rejoicing in some freedom.
pause there.
I'll have a dry Martini
with a cube of ice.
Tattered stutters
Mimicked mumblings,
of of my words,
words.
I have lived to love,
loved to eat,
eaten to live
but not loved to live.
I, I have known nothing,
nothing,
more beautiful than
than your heart.
Time ticks too fast,
for these words
to-to-to to come out.
I dreamt of her again,
And your silent lips
Fighting their way onto
Hers;
Iron formed from my
Wrists,
I felt my palms turn into
Fists;
She is mine, astray
And as stars guide my way,
I won't stop too far away
From her heart.
Take my penny and the other,
It's all I've got
For a pipe with fire on the end,
Put me on the other
Let powerful stuff in the middle;
Bellowing smoke fills the air
Sucking life out of these embers
Hair stands on end
Shilling doesn't feel safe in my pocket -
It's never been;
Mirror shatters at the sight of I;
My mind, oh, it's a free mind!
What will people say?
Dat's not a' bredrin;
'Is hair be shaggy t'ink he been
On dat stuff wacky backy,
Dem say he yardi?
Wagwan....!
I don't want a cigarette;
Give me back my penny and the other,
It's all I've got
For a family with mouths on the end,
Put me back in their midst
Let smoky things stay at bay.
Genetic loneliness creeps in,
Pushed into corners,
Sharing emotions with spider-web household,
Pulling hairs, picking noses,
Smiling with white-washed teeth,
My duties, oh, by heart abide.
What do people say?
Jeezus! Hail Mary son of God
That, he knows like a-b-c,
Look at him all holey and sheet
White shirts, oh St. Jamesy
Prey for us sun of Gawd.
I (don't) want a cigarette.
Underneath these heaps of cloth
Is a naked truth.
Beyond this mask cast in steel
Eyes water and peel.
In the detail of this rumbling voice
Concealed stutters rejoice
I walk with majesty by choice
As a cold shiver runs down my spine.
You have to know I'm fine.
Your lips pronounced loud and soft words,
Which I heard amidst the noise of silence;
Your hands reached out across the distance,
Held me close without touching;
Embraced my heart aplenty with dead life -
And I felt full of nothing, I felt alive.
Autumn came with trees producing foliage
Winter was upon us within a full moon,
You kept talking, I could hear
Through the walls your voice echoed
Your lips I could see no more,
Your hands I could feel no more;
It was just your voice
Through the silent noise.
My mallet and I set out in tandem,
Walls came down, so did buildings
We walked distances and smoked smokes,
Flesh was cut to bleed out our pain,
Every fluid in us was shed to dryness;
Through walks of shame, falling, carrying on
We trudged looking for you.
There are songs you and I sang,
Whenever it was dark and I was afraid.
I can sing no more.
I became too frightened to be afraid.
We came upon a heap of gravel
Onto which the light had led us;
And we dug in search of you,
We dug without rest in search of you.
At the bottom we found you.
An old sheet of material lay,
Full of sweat and emotions;
I shed a tear and it did too;
I wiped my face and it did too;
I smiled and it did too -
It was a mirror.
Your lips pronounced loud and soft words
If I didn't look for you,
I would never have found me
And I felt full of nothing, I felt full of life.
On my grandfather's wall,
Stands a painting from days ago,
Words of love, songs of encouragement
Whose meaning was great between the two,
Are splashed across
In silence. In pin-drop silence.
We slept all night and all day
We did not run out of sleep
We cried in happiness and sadness
We did not run out of tears.
Those deprecated words
Serve no reminder to a man with a history
Inked onto his faithful heart;
With time comes a smile
Underneath which depth of time
Allows no revelation
To you and I.
We won't understand.
I see a face caught in the same web
As that in which my body is trapped,
Feet inside my very shoes,
Hands stretched out wide to embrace
A seashell.
I see words coming out of your mouth,
Water coming out of your soul
Your eyes opening into a truthfulness
Not found outside them,
And I've found truth.
This, I wouldn't trade for a dime
Much needed at this time;
I may know it is untrue and it hurts
But so do I of true truth.
Let me burn.
Silently in there it beats
Defying logic, going against sense
Waiting for the right time to inscribe
Polite emotions onto a brain that won't relent;
Drums beat with the same rhythm
As those in the old man's funeral,
Suddenly stone turns into dust
Water turns into gas.
And these wells that dig deep
Cast curses unto us -
We cannot shut our lid,
We cannot sit our souls.
It hurts when you tell a story
To a stone that won't understand;
It hurts when you don't tell a story
To a stone that may not understand.
Disfigured memories from
Tatters of paper littered on mind
Too numb to hurt -
Not any more
No more to feel the absence of
What could have been present;
It never was.
Clouds gather into shapes
Made into pearls by same mind
Too numb to think -
But of fluffy wings
They must be yours
Those oval shapes must be your eyes
Keeping watch, keeping watch.
Word after word they'll read
What here my mind
Too numb to die
Livens with verse of pride;
Veins and blood of a valiant man
Come what may shall live to strive.
Rest assured, father.
On the night I was conscripted by song
Into tearfulness for pride I had not,
My intrepid voice echoed
Singing along to words so black and white,
As my mind wandered to a time in future
When these words would be painted red
By a child I would call my own.
And I let it flow for you
Who knows why I wouldn't tie a tie,
Who understands what I say without a word
In your small way you know what you mean
To a man predisposed to lack of pride;
Through your eyes the heaven could open,
In your arms could thrive belonging
For our little one and I.
Thank you for these dreams
That as ever are no more than dreams,
Thank you for giving me something
To itch in bones cold as stone
Tonight I lull into a land of wonder;
Though when I awake it will be all gone,
I'll savour each second of this moment
Awaiting your hand someday.
May be.
When the scars are populous
On each pixel of veins
Each ounce of mind
It's easier to take pain and puss
Of a fresh wound -
How do our faces look when we smile...
We are beautiful but we'll never know;
Until the music plays
To remind us we are capable of smiling -
As we did someday.
I'll draw my last breath
Because everyone does -
As may know Macbeath -
I'll take an eternal sigh
Knowing I lived inside you,
Inside your eyes for a day,
A minute or a few seconds
On a bright night in May.
I'll relive the memory
Of your inexplicable giggle,
Of the crawl of your dilated pupil
On a stone I was carved from,
The gate of heaven it heralded
Through which I went -
Marshalled by each cilia
Into the retina I made home
Where my stone melted into soul.
We said not a word,
Our lungs puffed alright
Your heart paced - I saw -
My heart palpitated, I hid
Behind the counter,
Far from anything but air;
And I wrote down all that I felt
And I hid it in a poem called,
Life in your eyes.
Extricated endorphins are to blame
For the unprecedented euphoria around this place;
I called it
When I noticed she even laughs at his jokes,
Was wise to warn of him
If you use your eyes, little man,
You don't have to touch everything -
I called it and sent a sound warning.
The villagers sit and laugh their heads off
Simultaneously analysing their unhappy childhoods,
Building castles in the air in stylish mid-life crisis.
You have my sympathy, I say to them,
Quietly enough so they wouldn't hear
They wave the flag of introspective arrogance,
Built on the very foundation of utter ignorance -
They don't know a thing, no,
Not a word of God Save the King.
Who knows these things, anyway?
There's a picture in the bedside drawer
That comes to life when bedtime bell knells
If I use my eyes,
I don't have to touch everything
The owner may sit and laugh with the villagers
Analysing their unhappy childhood
And I will quietly analyse each pixel of their picture
Because I love what I see.
