I caught a glance of a fashion
Out from a face of hands
Its crime its greatest passion
It tuts in its demands

It speaks garish and fast
When I listen in intent
Its first word is its last
Its message often bent

When I look away he creeps
Slow and on the prowl
Often when I turn he sleeps
And hides all 'neath his cowl

He knew me back when I was young
He'll know me when I'm old
He's let me off and he has stung
He knows all things grow cold.

So when I saw him glancing
I turned and gave my thanks
And also reprimanding
His insistence on his ranks

I told him life is more
Than numbers on your face
For moments you can't store
On your hands or any place.

Leave me, I told him
I have no need of you
My life is not your whim
I tell you it's not true

I closed my eyes and held them tight
To let him heed my call,
But as they came back, took the light
The clock was still there on the wall.

Spartans had to roam the East
In the land as yet unfettered
Some Nigerians have to find a beast
And **** it to show they've bettered
Barmitzvahs may be tradition for some,
But for me coming of age was looking in a mirror
And realising that I've stopped changing
That I'm just like every other finished piece.

The mark of an adult is seeing a man
And feeling threatened by his size
The mark of an adult is seeing a woman
And thinking dark thoughts inside
The mark of an adult is meeting strangers
And instantly forgetting their name
And instantly not caring.

Many had to tame the wilds to become full grown of old
And we are not so different, we bear a darkness too
We must pass the burning eye of the real world's value of gold
We have to bear the people seeing nothing when they see you.

You're like spiderwebs,
Like thick wind entangling,
Every single **** one of you I ever met
Is wrapping around my memory as I struggle.
    I obsessively map out
      Every time I made you smile
         With a twitch of my leg,
I needlessly outline
   The dances we did with
        Every tug of my wrists against the silk.
As I twist deeper into your clutches
     I remember when we were happy
        And spinning in soulkissed sinews.
Without you I'd be free
But you're worth the OCD.

Deliciously intricate,
The ways of the world, no?
No?!

Think of the droplet in the surf
Flung far from its mountain basin,
But a roaring speck of an army of being
United in washing me clean.

Think of the dust blown high in the breeze
Wanderer of the spectral footplains
Going forth in a tumbling dance to
Brush my cheek.

Think of the people in their two step music
Soloing their own sorrows, but finding
That when they find another
Their solos become harmonies.

Deliciously intricate,
The ways of the world, no?
Yes.

Tracing crumbs on my page
Moving the pencil to meet their point,
But they jump away
Afraid of fixed
Dead certainty.

Blowing them away with a breath
They fly on,
Now impossible to mistake for
The graphite kiss my pencil gives
When I accidentally place it to paper

Gone, like so many,
Crumbs of people met in life
I suppose we are all
Crumbling.

I once drew a woman
Destined to be strange
Her eyebrows flipped over
Her lips in her brain

An ear on her nose
And one on her chin
It's strange to think, but for all my effort
Her strangeness came out more beautiful than all my other drawings.

So I kept drawing her,
Years on when I couldn't stop
Addicted to seeing her on the pages
Addicted to her simple strange ways.

She became my muse
And I thought of her in all my work
Every word written down
Was a new name I gave to her

Every picture I carved out of ink and paper
Was another strange change of her face
She took me over and
She's the kind of girl who can't leave me.

That strange make believe girl.

I stood on the shore
Feeling the grainy pebbles in my shoes
Watching the Towers of Industry roll in the waves.
Great they were, the waters, not the towers,
For they blocked the sun and it was only seen
Through its glassy body, stabbed with the silhouette
Of those mighty towers.
We walked on together.

I climbed the cliffside
And met the Metal Birds
Crashed on their nests in the rock
Their thin skin dull and
Crumbled away making poor handholds.
Climbing up together, we saw the river.

We watched the sweet scent
Float away in palpable colour,
Leaving my head heavy and yellow
Like the flowers it carried with it.
Upland calls,
Upriver there is more to see.
We walk on together, always.

Wellies
Unfull cups of funny puddlewater
Around the feet and toes of happy children
*****
           Stamp
Splish
          Splash
What
         Fun
A memory of that darling child
Hand around her mother's
Fascinated and absorbed
By those little lakes and worlds
Her little pink coat
And wellies
Keeping her warm as a snug bug.
Stamp-Splash-Fun

The Robin called
And I looked out
From windows balmed
By a Summer January.
His little flushed chest
And my crimson vest
Went well together, so I thought.

He hopped along a twig
And dug for buds on the barren wood
Mourning that Winter long forgotten
In the cycle of death and movement.
He called out his call
And as the days fall
I try to speak to him, so I do.

The slow little bird isn't
Some prophet of the new dawn
But a straggler, slow with the weight
Of his heavy, fateful wings.
He flies to the sky
Follows my eye
To the sunlight I'm watching, so I am.

Sad to see, the true spirit of Spring
So misunderstood, so anticipated
Like the robin, Spring is not happy.
Spring is an epitaph of the lost days.
I wish he'd come back
And he will when the track
Of the year's memories lead him to me, mourning once more,
So they do.

The night is dark against your fair fur feathers
And your wingspan holds true against the glass.
Legs splayed against the pane, hard and fast pressed against the portal to my world.
You'll do anything to touch the light.

I cannot blame you, I have been there,
Outside in the cold warming yourself with the thought of a light bulb
Feeling the phosphorus of that explosion with your eyes and ears
Longing to be a part of what is good.

No, I cannot let you in, for
I am ready to selfishly bathe in this illumination
The moonlight will do for you
So I suppose I'm just as bad as the others were when

They kept me out.

Window panes and light refrains
From being yours, but mine.
All you shall do is hang there and wish
You had a light switch of your own

Ready to make your own world bright
Ready to lift you from the darkness
Ready to help you spread your wings
And fly in the day like all the other successes.
With just a flick.

Poor moth, it must be
Cold out there.

To be alone is to shed a skin
To sigh as I touch the earth again
And cease this mad
Levitation.

To be alone is to rest                                                                        Finally
To grow out of each day from the tight skin I wove for myself
To view it all from deep compassion
From a sudden intake of self control.

To be alone is to gamble
For each day is a die rolled
Or a bell tolled
And how my ears ring
Depends on how I was under it all all all day

To be alone is to hold my head in my hands
To pull my mind back freely
To think I will never feel that again
Until the next day.

If I had one wish
It would be
For everyone in the world to put on their brightest clothes
To pick up their most beloved object
To leave the house as the sun leaves the night with them
And smile at someone

Any person, that's all
Then talk to them
Show them their object
And coo at their companion's own
Then invite them to eat
And smile at the servers
(because, let's face it, they have hard jobs)
And talk

Then, meet more people
And take them somewhere nice
The park is a good place to go with a full belly,
And watch the bright birds go by
And talk

Then, as the sun goes down, watch it with others
And all sing a song together,
Any song
And sigh
Because
It was a day well spent.
If I had one wish...

My cup of tea is clean
My cup of tea is hot
Frothing and boiling, apt,
My tea and I are much alike.

I have my tea green because
I like to feel like the forest is close
It's sometimes the best way to keep
The hills in my mind.

My cup of tea is tasteful
And always at my side
But it cools too quickly
Luckily, my cup of tea never changes

Even when it's as cold as I feel
It's still just as sweet.

Hello again.
Oh god, not you.
Me, but does it matter. Do you still care?
No.
Walk with me, lend me your thought.
Very well.

I am born again and you feel the same as past days.
I do.
Vulnerability is a new form of life.
For you.
And you are scared again.
And you are with me.

Does it frighten you, how far you've come?
Yes, where has time gone?
Into me, I am always with you.
My one friend,
Together* Together.
Shall we sink as one?
Of course.

How many days lost into your huddled fear?
Enough to make me strong.
And you are here to tell me all is lost?
I am here to offer you that choice.
I don't want it.

I have come too far for you, I have grown too tall, seen too much, outran you more times than you let on, you are no longer a match for me.
Do you feel brave?
You know I don't, ever,
But I feel ready.

You will need me
When you lose all
And truth is laid bare
You will need me
And I will be here
To **** you in
To steal you back,
Mine,
My very own
Property.

Flowers in the window
Seek sunlight, but the glass
Lets little through and the wind blows
Mighty out of their reach.
The furnace burns without
I'm hearing spring again,
But flowers in the window
Stay dying every season.
Winter
Summer
And the others
Make no difference
To a flower in the window.
To a petal left to wilt.

He wore a mask
And came to me as I woke
In the small hours,
But indeed he was huge.

Smoke billowed from his skin
And the stick thin branches of
His fingertips reached for me
And he growled.

As he came closer I saw
How dark he was
Of black wood and
A painted grimace on the mask

I found my voice, but he took it
I found my hands, but he took them
I found my legs, but I couldn't run
Under the weight of terror.

And then he tore off his mask
And beneath he bore another
He ****** it on my face
And I felt my body become dark wood

I growled

He spoke to me in talent
He ran along on hope
I asked him if he was the truth,
'Just the shade of some.' he said.

I had a lighter given to me,
A face engraved on its metal case.
And its inner heat
And flame hidden
Terrify me.

It whispers to me,
To that blistered skin in my lungs
Where I breathed too deeply of the flame
And the burning hearts about me.
I crack it open.

Its metal is bright
And the wick stands tall
Upright and seeking my breath.
I hold it fast and hard
And it whispers.

'Where is she now?'

I close it up
And hide it away
Because sometimes
Hidden flames
Should be just that.

What is different about your trunk?
Said the Cedar to the Ash.
It's rotten, ere forgotten,
And its branches have long gone.

What is different about your leaves?
Asked the Oak to the Holly.
They're pointed and disjointed
And their colour has gone dark.

What is different about your boughs?
Asked the Poplar to the Yew.
They're leveled and disheveled.
Do you like them? Oh I do.

The sunlight is fanned by your boughs, dear Yew,
Rain makes night seem longer on your leaves, my Holly
Your trunk may be rotten, dear Ash, but it is terribly untrue
To say that it does worse than any other.

The forest lights with sunly sprights
And I will walk among the trees
And hear the sounds and see the sights
Of a nature much more at ease.

I dreamt of living last night.
My mind pushed away by
the wheels of a
Rene Descartes.

I felt a jolt after
I'd eaten
Of my mind jumping back
Perhaps it became aware.

But, foolish vision, I
Know this must be real
For if this is a dream
Why is she not in it?

Why is she not smiling?
Why is she not laughing?
Why is she not invading?
Because it's real.

It's real and she's not here.

Never be the Joker
For the Joker never wins
The weakest card oft seeks to guard
Its non-existant sins.

Its folly is in mockery
Because it's well protected
By all the laughs it got from halfs
Of love it ne'er detected.

It thought itself the King of Hearts,
But it couldn't find its Queen
And though the Jack may fail and lack
It did not find its truth obscene.

For many cards may tell their truths
And be beaten from the deck,
But the Joker speaks of lover freaks
He is the stormbeat wreck.

Never lie through jokes or jest
Always tell the truth to poker
For though its sides are mirrored lies
They're truer than the Joker.

I met her in my sleep last night,
And it was awkward, like in life.
Her arm was parcelled by a curse
And I hated him at once
Though I hid it well.

I was a king on a throne,
Brooding over battle
And my armour fitted poorly,
A matter which she noticed
And pointed out.

She asked me whom I was fighting,
Smiling as she did.
And I looked down, amazed
That she could be so bold.
She readied herself.

I drew my own weapon,
Distance in my fist
And fought her smile,
While her 'friend' looked on.
She laughed and it rattled me.

There I lay,
Distance brought down and shattered
And there she was,
Above me,
Her smile the only weapon she needed...

'I don't know if you've ever heard
Of the Great Charge.'
Said one to me.
I smiled
And thought of those
Shouted onwards by He on the Hill.

I had heard of it,
I had heard they bled
When they were shot while they were led.
Who'd have thought?
I frowned.
And thought of those
Shouted onwards by He on the Hill.

'Funny.' he said
'His Hill was so much higher
Than all the cannon fire, but
They say he still cried out
With each muzzle's shout.'
I nodded.
And thought of those
Let down by He on the Hill.

'Yes.' I said
'In fact they all cried
Together when they died
And realised what they're worth, that
His Hill was only earth
And they were only bones.'
I walked away
And thought of those
Made to realise they were nothing
By me on the hill.

I love the hills
Patted soft by time and feet
Of so many off for walks.

I love the cold
Strange, I know,
But when I'm shivering

I love the rain.
The second skin of
My land telling me I'm clean now.

I love the grass
The carpet of the thick ground
A sponge to all my anger.

I love the solitude
Because it's always just
You and me,

My world.

It's done, not well, but now at least
the journey is all over.
The world has suddenly become
The bright white cliffs of Dover.
The sails have ceased to billow
And I have to disembark.
The animals have all taken
Their due leave of the ark.

Now the warmth of feeling
Is not sweat on my brow
It's the education stealing
My ignorance of now.
They let me taste the honey
And now my tooth is sweet
But today at least the heather
Is growing in the street.

Grateful? I suppose.
But it just set the mark
Where my animals would leave me
And I would leave the ark.

'She ain't much of an explorer.'

Wide eyed, stares go blind when poorly aimed
And you have had much practice,
But still, you miss and shoot wildly,
Afraid of your own fogged visions.

And how, how do you think of
All those wild horizons
Where your hero rides into the sun, but
You're too afraid to follow?

I tell you I'm leaving, you ask me, why?
I tell you I've left.
You call me brave, but I'm not.
You're just too much of you.

You ain't much of an explorer.

I met her on the road
Exhausted just like me.
I asked her why she's walking
She told me she is free.

I told her I'm a pilgrim.
She warned me, don't forget,
You may be tired of walking,
But your end is 'lejos' yet.

I told her Santiago
Was now my Xanadu.
She laughed and said the Khan awaits.
I laughed and said I knew.

I've seen his horse on hills afar,
He canters while I walk
And Kublai champs his teeth and shouts
His sword spits while we talk.

He wears the forest as a cloak
And chains the wind as breath.
I see him chase me further on
He tracks me to my death.

I asked her where she's going.
To Santiago too,
But I don't seek the spires and peaks
I'm hunting one like you.

He's running as his boots get worn
And I champ my teeth and shout.
He's keeping eyes out to the hills
While my sword point seeks him out.

Her deep black eyes and strong disguise
Bled from her and she stood.
Kublai Khan afore me spoke.
I ran but 'twas no good

She spoke out strong and in a blur,
'You are not my prey.
For many men along the road
Flee demons every day.'

And she roared and drew her breath,
The wind took up her gait.
She took the time to smile before
Her horse flew fast and straight.

I watched her go, still for so long,
The road behind ignored.
I heard the wind blow on before
I turned and saw He roared.

The hill was crowned with forest
Drawn around his back.
He spurred his horse on and the steed
Cantered down the track.

I turned and walked, slow and calm
For I am used to demons.
Though on the road I keep him towed.
The Khan is still the freeman.

'She ain't much of a muse.'

What can I say for you that
Has not already been lied?
Your eyes do not sparkle,
Your smile has long since died.
Your eyebrows are
Painted to be quizzical.
Nice try, but,
I don't think you're listening.

I'll give you a joke, but
You're twice as sarcastic
Your wooden skin covers
A brain made of plastic
I come along to watch and
You come along to see.
Nice try, but
I don't think your eyes make the effort.

I ask you what New Year's means
To you and your future.
You shrug and say,
'I'm sure it will be boring.'

You ain't much of a muse.

Afire, alight, the hunting stone
The flame burns down deep through the bone
But none may see the tragedy
Of all the hunts gone fruitless.
I don't know how, it's good for I
To try to fret over the sky
For hope and fate are growth and hate
And now I'm driven clueless.

I saw the light of promise die
Those without eyes fall and cry
But this cold night was watertight
My torch still shone the brighter.
I danced around, with light and sound
And without aim an arrow's found
But now the smoke has ceased to choke
I became more the fighter.

The empty space of battlefields
No more is mine to watch and yield
I left the war, but not before
I had my fill of riches.
My comrades fell, alone and cold
I had to leave them, I was told
Their ghosts may chase me through disgrace
Each one left many stitches.

A brief melee, but now it's passed
The future calls, it calls at last.

I heard about a boy
Who read comics to the dead,
His art a ******
Of death in the self.

I saw a man
Stand proud and say it
He misses that boy
Where should he be?

I tell you where he is now,
Being read to
And dancing among the sheen on
An oily smile of those in hardship.

He carries on
Reading his story
And we listen, though
We know not from where.

Thank you, little boy,
For being there on my sundripped morning
Thank you for lighting my day
Without you, well

Without you I would have been much the same,
But that doesn't mean I'd forget you.

When a baby babbles like a brook
All they are is nature.
When a girl surrenders all she took
All that is is danger.

Lipstick stains become tattoos
And a dance for two becomes a seizure.
Relationships become canoes
And a heart two share becomes much stranger.

Oh, you and I, no such thing,
But that's ok, my love.
I haven't seen what life may bring,
But death is more the gentle dove.

Let's grow together
You and I, sorry flower
Let's take our time, too

A taste of the future has come to my lips,
Sickly, but then, I asked for it
The droplets forsook me and went to my eyes
But nobody living has taken the sips
Like I have drunk deep of the pit
And the water was refreshing, to my surprise

I fortold the blessing, like a hand to the brow
I carried the scars, like lines on my face,
But ones that aged me more quickly
I heaved at the thought of the then and the now
My make up was dark, but light at the place
Where I applied it more thickly

So tell me the truth, all those from beyond
Explain the shadows under your eyes
I don't understand how you sink to your knees
A cowl of cold on me has been donned
It never could bring me to rise
For me and for life, we do as we please.