wading through
the shallows
a dip
in this sea
does not
at first
look
particularly appealing
beneath
the surface is
a microcosmic tempest
of shingle
and sand
dashing
upon toes
upon ankles
upon shins

a tickle
of seaweed
leaves paranoia
burning
where sense
and logic
should reside
suddenly
i'm wondering
where sea snakes
are usually found

tiptoeing
against each swell
to keep shoulders
above water
somebody calls out
   jellyfish
and laughs
clearly
they are not
surrounded
by these
alien forms
drifting
ever closer
leaving me
no option but
to struggle
to remain
statuesque
as they pass
too close
for comfort

when the depth
forces me
to give up
my toehold
of sand
or shell
to tread water
and embrace
the solitude
finally
i will see
how truly clear
the waters
can be

supposedly a mature
well-put-together
functioning adult
who has travelled
both up and
down escalators
     of all sizes
countless times
throughout his life
there will always be
a fleeting moment
a child-like panic
as he shuffles onto
the grinning maw
of those toothy steps
still experiencing
that lingering
sense of unease
he would get
while younger
climbing or descending
dragged along
by driven parents
or rushing onwards
to keep pace with
assured friends

in that split second
before sole
and metal conjoin
overwhelmed by
the constant shifting
of this unwelcoming
corrugated tread
with calculations of
when and where
to place his feet
in time with
the ever-moving
conveyor of steps
frozen momentarily
with the thought
that he might
miss his footing
trip and fall
even though
deep down he knows
he has managed this
innumerable
times before

its these winter mornings
where any thought
of greeting
the dawning day
with warm thoughts
hopeful exuberance
and a positive outlook
will quickly be silenced
along with
the birdsong of
that overly optimistic alarm
that melody
so carefully selected
to ease consciousness
into a brightened state
of motivation
of joy
despised within seconds
immediately cut short
and resented for
its mindless persistence

the first excuse
a need for another
ten minutes
of warmth and comfort
to prepare
for the day
for life in general
perhaps
the second
a negotiated concession
that there was
no real reason
to get up
early anyway
finally
uncertain whether
in victory
   or defeat
the alarm will be
cancelled completely
along with the rest
of the day

the dictionary may tell
of these words
and their definitions
but those pages will never
portray the true meaning
in the context of you

he asked a question
and without waiting
for a response
drew three cards
from that divinatory deck
usually carrying as little
meaning as a tossed coin
scoffed at and swiftly ignored
this time seemed to tell
a recognisable tale
unexpected in its providence
a fortune perhaps
to favour the brave

the hanging man
with his eight swords
and his eight wands
these cards showed him
the start of a journey
not necessarily a life
turned upside-down
instead that a change
of perspective is needed
the octet of swords
unveiled his cage
of indecision
uncertainty and fear
a need to upset
the balance of the inert
a reasoning for destruction
in order to create
and those upright wands
carrying with them
such signs of movement
a willingness to decide
a commitment to progress

either that or
the pack was simply
reshuffled and dealt
again and again
until it foretold
that which needed
to be heard

i usually try
to start work
at 09:00
but today
a streak of sun
across the middle
of the floor
was so appealing
i had to lie
stretched out
and splayed
in that pool
of warmth
within seconds
of being down
the dog nosed
at my ear
and slumped
at my side
his chin resting
on my arm
perhaps
seeking closeness
the comfort of
my presence
or maybe
simply protesting
a hint that he wished
to stretch out
where i was lay
as clouds crept
across the sky
to steal our sunlight
he shifted his weight
let out a deep-lunged sigh
but stayed at my side

while i waited
for a sign
i forgot
to look at you

i still wait
but now
i do it
alone

a dusky walk
through the middle
of the park
clear of
the shadows
of branch
and leaf
at its edges
the only light
stretched out
but struggling
from distant
lamp posts
or the
yet more distant
halo of moon
breaching cloud
it is enough
to plot
a route by
but not
with confidence

a leather flapping
overhead
tells tale
of bats
in their erratic
yet assured flight
abhorred
by many
perhaps for
that very reason;
unpredictable
unflinching
not flying
the expected path

whether hero
or failure
we all have a breaking point
the difference between the two;
how much is loaded up
before the camel's back breaks

all weight
        and meaning
is not
to be found
in the substance itself

there are spaces
between words;
pauses
    and pregnancies
or an absence
        altogether
that contains more
than semantics ever could

the trouble is
finding a balance
that punctuates the message
appropriately;
otherwise
you just seem
disinterested

                  or

                              lost

the planets will align
every once in awhile
to arraign all who need
or are deserving of it
those who find themselves
treading the wrong path
those who can no longer
see what lies ahead
despite all those
gazing upwards
     silently questioning
these immaterial messages
will be overlooked
unheeded by the majority
only recognised by the few
comprehended by even fewer

this singular occurrence
rare and rarefied
may be explainable
in its most basic sense
logistically
     empirically
to even the layman
it is but a simple matter
of timings and orbits
calculations of gravity
versus mass and inertia
but that which truly matters
the universal push and pull
will leave even
the most discerning of minds
in the dark

we don't look too closely
and certainly don't look
directly at it
it's something that
as far as we are aware
has always been there
and always will be

it sends us
its warmth
its light
and from this
comfort
     and peace
will be shared

unseen
by eyes that are
unwilling to look;
at its surface
is a storm of fire
a raging
that cannot be controlled
with the power
to destroy it all

don't look too closely
just smile back

we are stuck
between Scylla
                           and
        Charybdis
we know the path we must take
but
I fear
we will ignore
the warnings

we are still off course

there is no beauty
in the freshly fallen snow
it is all a lie
it may appear
unblemished
immaculate
innocent
but takes little
to disturb
the perfection
this is a version
of what could be
but is only temporary
and cannot last
as we strive
to live it
our every action
spoils the purity
unveils the flaws
leaves us regretting
what we once tolerated
maybe next time
we will make it
last longer

i arrived
early enough
to be comfortable
in my seat as
the patient and
impatient alike
shuffled the aisle
negotiating the overflow
of flaring elbows
protruding feet
and cumbersome torsos
a waltz of
dismissive apology
their only hope
to find their place
without inconvenience
yet with little interest
in whether they might
inconvenience
other passengers
along the way

watching
as a man
recently evicted
from the seat
he had evidently
not booked
surveys the nearby
empty spaces
his mind churning
an internal gamble
of which one
might promise
the longer period
   of peace
before the rightful
owner arrives
he knows
he will need
to relocate
once more before
his journey's end
at some point
unknown to him
but predetermined
nonetheless
despite this
he settles down
in a seat marked
"reserved"
and closes
his eyes