you do not get better
and stay the same what i do
is different now

i stood in my new flat today
counting the spins the fan
made in its centre.
an americanism, too out of body
for me to keep an eye on.
what now?
but to wait till the inertion sickness
crawls its way from the soles up to oesophagus.

tilt back till back flat against the black flat floor.
(i hated that sentence but it needed some air.)
wondering if i can melt beneath the new money wood,
can i stand upside down,
ankles halo’d in my space and my head in the neighbours.

the hallway to the bedroom where he sleeps a little more soundly
now i’m out the bed,
dares me to leave him alone.
“you’ve clawed this distance out” i murmur back.
“i can trace it in the skirting boards.”

sitting up i go to close the window
and lock it, unlock it and smile at the little piece of freedom
i can’t ever give back.

In shadows cast, I stand alone
An outcast in a world unknown
Misunderstood, a soul apart
I bear the weight of my wounded heart.

In crowded rooms, I fade away
An echo lost in the disarray.
Invisible threads, they pass me by
A silent tear, my whispered cry.

Yet, in my solitude, I find solace
Embracing uniqueness with fierce promise
For within these depths, a light will shine
A beacon of truth, no longer confined.

Though different paths, we all may tread
I'll wear my outcast cloak with grace, instead
For it's in the margins where I find my might
A symphony of colors, painting my plight.

So let me wander, let me roam
An outcast's spirit, forever my home
For it's in this journey, unbound and free
I embrace my truth and claim my destiny

Look at the hippo,

then you'll cease to be amazed --


at human beings.

oil and water will always blame the other for being too extreme. there is a natural separation and naturally, a lot of blame.

how easy it is to feel self righteous in your rigidity, even in the presence of the one point in a glass where they meet. there, it is a softer rejection, a gossamer thin border, as if it resigns, “here, we exist as two separate we’s, stacked on top of one another, and that is as much as i will relent.”

what a shame it is to accept the shape of a container, but not the shape of one another. what a stab it is to my heart that you repel me, and i you, no matter how much i wish and struggle and vigorously shake us both hoping that this time, it will be different. what a pity it is that i’m me and you’re you and we’re not anyone else and it will remain unchanged, like you and i.

i could feel better if i knew you didn’t want it to be this way. that this life is just impossibly cruel and it’s nobody’s fault but the universe and the gods and whoever else made it my nature to resist you.

i plead silently for one more good stir, one more fair shot. it might work this time.

our shoulders brush slightly again. and i cry thinking that if you were to wipe my tears, they’d bead up and roll off of your hands.

Azzurro
The boots were blue in colour
Painted to look like the sky
And worn by a gal with other things
She was aged 18 to 45
And looked timless ageless  
It was the blue painted ex army boots
That she used wore to gigs
Pubs and clubs when she was free
Not working as a programmer
In the Italian civilian aviation industry
The job was boring but paid well
She'd done it for 8 years
Was a legend at the plane factory
The lady who wore her blue boots
Even in the office a different pair
She got results delivered the goods
Had worked on 36 different projects
They simply knew her as Azzurro
The blue booted gal

Line dial phone rings the past
what was, what is, and what lasts
The fast, the gracious and the present
Year after year, tone after tone
Toll free collecting
The connection between me and myself
Becoming ever so inconsistent.
“What man am I?” I ask.
“I don’t know “says me on the receiving side
I am a different person, same body, same tone
I am a old soul lurking, same mind, same goals.
What man am I?

🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕
something to be said
for being one of a kind,
after all
two moons in the night sky
seem far less appealing
🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕

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