jack white on the radio
i'm headed home,
afraid that im too far
i feel further from you, too
but too many journal entries
are my doubts
and too many closers
are testaments
of your patience with me

Passion ran wild

Scripturience smouldering

burning my innards

and I was sinking
into the fathomless dark gyres
of his coal-black eyes

All the best words have been written

Loved lived lost and forgotten in time

Only to be found by broken hearts

I have been so lucky to know a dog...

To know the enduring love of mud puddles and everything pure.

To know joyfulness in a greeting,
and the happiness of eating a stick.

To know gentleness and nuzzling,
and the softness of fur blowing in a breeze.

To know a wagging tail and the thumping of paws on the floor.

I have been so lucky to know a dog...

Every thing
is an issue
the minutiae of living
affects me and you

if I were nothing
I'd suffer no blue
that would be an absurd thing
it couldn't ever be true!

I LIKE TO SAY YOUR NAME

I like to say
your name

when you're
not here

turn you
into sound

conjure you out of
thin air

so that you appear
before me

dressed in sound
only

memory sketching in
the rest of you

as if sound
was just an outline

and love
colours you in

adding the voice last
so I can hear you say.

"Hello you..!"
and there you are

as present
as present

can be.

I like to say
your name

when you're
not there.

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.