It's starts slowly
First a rising of unease
Not anything to speak of, as yet
A sense that there is unbalance in the distance
But hey.. on we go, right?
We're here to have fun
In this press
Tall bodies jostle and push
A wall of human, oblivious to my smallness
Dances his way into collision
That ******* soaked my everything with
my gingerly carried beer
****
The unbalance approaches.. cautiously
I see that shadow, feel the mists rise
Bit my lip and try anger instead
And blithely follow J to our friend
Ensconced in the front
Under a speaker stack
Bass reverberating through us
As the opening chords start
Now the panic sets in..
Too many people
Just drink... drink all the beer
Don't think about it
Don't stand to close
Try to carve out a space from the
Tower of anxiety
Slowly growing around me
Clawing at my psyche
With its rusty nails
Don't think, don't look it in the eye
To late.. the low frequencies crush my lungs
Too loud too many people
I can't even move
Can't..breathe
The eye slowly turns towards  
It's heavy grey gaze grazes me
An oily fear wells up within
The crush sets in
Have to escape
Have to get out.. not later.. NOW
Tears well up
My friends guide me to out to halfway
"Is this ok?"
The crush laughs
"NO"  I bark
And we make it outside
With a shuddering chest I try
To calm and then the fingers of Why
Poke at me
No one talks about the overwhelming guilt
The shame that cuts within
'God, I've ruined their nights'
'This is so dumb'
'Why do I have to be like this
'Why don't I love the struggle anymore'
'Why can't I just be normal'
But the only thing I can say it
"I'm sorry for being like this"
Like normal is a jacket you can throw on as a finishing touch to the ensemble
We miss most of the concert
But the imbalance is slowly chased away
With kind words
"****, lady we'd never leave you like this"
A puff of a spliff
We make it back for the encore
and they quip
"It's when they play the best songs anyway"

They say artists
are tortured
Conceptually
Figuratively
Also literally
Some create through chaos
Out of seeds of destruction comes
a harsh beauty born of the artisans
experience of the world
Some express through their tears
their captivity, and from this
brutality again comes beauty
Joy
Ecstasy
emotive threads bind us
Loss  
Sorrow
it's soft ether numbing us
Driving us to tears
To apathy or
to death
Or to Art
As a means to fight for
something beautiful
A means to resist the cut of the knife
As a means to make
Something that would make her smile
Capture that glow
Make him bite his lip
to hold back tears
Make us see beyond our limited realities
And fears
Make me whole again
With stanzas, Indian ink staining our fingers
With stitches, tapestries of lives long past
With music, that can transport us to the depths of depression
As elevate us to the strata above in one refrain
With paint stained brushes
With spray on trains
Art as protest
Artists are amongst the first in those
waves of repression
cultural victims, with science
following at its heels
Persecution ******* their steps
The possibility of losing your life
for the creative output
.. and many have
let's not forget
So art is born of pain, perhaps
and some from joy as quickly
as from fear
Regardless of its origin
You know when you find that spark
You understand intrinsically
That light as brain and heart ignite
And you breathe catches, ragged, rhythmically
In your mind, alive
Exist in perfect time with appreciation
In this space for here lives Art
Be touched by the pain or joy
Sorrow or longing
Be embraced by flow
of words and style
My chest tightens
and eyes mist
This is the artists tortured soul on display
They placed it there
for me
So all could see
what was laid bare

I walk this Kiez
A perfect balance of anger and grace
I must be on my toes
At every moment
Scanning each face
Adjusting response in lieu of what's said
To hold space with intent
Not wanting to expect the worse
Encounters of violence
But I prime my senses
Prepare my reflexes
To respond at a split
So at this knifes edge
My nerves sit
Thus I Take the city at my pace
Smile and walk these streets
Always chin up
Look the world in the eye
And from this flow
Square my shoulders
Preside
In this moment. I stand
Exist and go forth
Question not where I came from
But still exhort from my feet
A slow pace
One after another
I aim myself home
Throw the compass asunder
As I stalk and i prowl
My body projecting a fierce front
That I pray will get me to my door
Untouched
Unnoticed
And unharmed
Slide the key in the lock
Feel resistance as tumblers align
And allow me entry
Finally
To my home
My safe space
The weight of holding a balance between anger
And grace falls away

How dare you say that about him
With your rage and disgust
Say I must not think that such a creature
as this deserves love
The touch of those that care
Who are you to say what form
For and function this touch shall take and where your judgement ceases
Who are you to state your idolatry is true
Proclaim falsehood in those who's deity has a different face to yours
Like You have the definitive verse
The structure
The nouns to describe something so complex
As he craves this touch
And so does he
That this worship is wrong
Who are you to frame love as such?
Oh but you possess the zealotry
And belief that all are entitled to your vulgarity

When just the simple act of you holding me
Or me holding space
Still and fast, is just
No more than one wishing one
That no harm will come to you
My friend, within these arms

This is not more than a different path to the embodiment
Of similar ideals that you seek to protect with your anger
What's the sum of these actions
These words
They create such a schism
A rift tween what you know of as love
And those you believe do not deserve
Those you consider abomination
Base.
Not understanding that collective savagery builds a gentle soul as much as creates a monster
So tear them limb from limb in your closeted ignorance
Wearing a mantel of charity but with blood on your hands

How do you square that, and still feel you deserve to call yourself human.
Look around
Your fear does not serve you nor make you strong and true
And never will
While I still stand

Our lives are woven around the stories we tell
His of being not enough of anything and almost believing
Mine of misplaced sexuality and battles with daemons
His eyes devour me when they meet
Our touches ignite something
Our connection stronger than either expected
Bigger than either of us alone
It’s a garden in this city we’ve never known
Where flowers are questions and answers nectar
Rich and verdant with thought
Dripping in silken innuendo
Each honeyed sip crystalline intensity
Each taste a respite from life’s ennui
With each delicate wing beat creating cyclones
We circle and joust like butterflies in the heat

never has such a battle ensued
between self 1 and self 2
they know each others moves
trying to second-guess the next two
but all it takes is one move played false
to turn the tide against self on self
the disappointment from self 1
surely, this was his moment
his green eyes flash as its stolen away
by careless mistake
angry, self 1 cries "this *****!"
self 2 answers in smug tones
"he's so *******..he does this. Every. Time."
self 1 sighs
disappointment weighs heavily
self 2 crows
and preens distractedly

on the side lines I light a cigarette
bemused, though entertained
this is why I only watch
people playing themselves at chess

With his soul
With his mind, he goes deep
On a path to define what
Seems to be refined, but
steals all the time
But there’s a spark
In his eye, he’s got power
Large as life
And I drown in him
In his eyes and his scent
Under his hand I feel safe
Psyche blessed
And there in the dark neon
We connect
mind to mind
Soul to soul
Entwined

Break it
Fix it
Re-use it
Tear it apart
Built it up as new again
Tear it down once more
Offer it to others
Only to have it torn apart
So then gently stitch it
**** it
Edge it with the finest silken lace
Tie all the pieces together
Put on display
for all to see it’s splendour
then wait
Wait
Await the second it gets thrown into the fire
Take the ashes
Mix with unending fear
Salt the earth around
Parch the landscape
Rage
Then simmer
Fester and wait
Wait long enough
Wait
Wait
Wait
To see the city others had built
laid to waste
Wait amongst the ruins
Realise that this city was never yours and run
Run fast
Run further
Keep running head down
Eyes blinded with tears
Throat choked by words never said
Torn by all the words that were
Keep running
Til feet bleed then crawl
Pull yourself along by grit
By very nails
By hate
By denial
By despair
By sorrow
Finally a gentle landscape
Softly rolling
Your worn hands giving their last
By grudge
So lie down
Lie still
Dust accepting the blood from your ruined self
As you realised you have come back to the same ruins
The same salted earth
The same city built by others worn away by rains and nature
Lie peacefully but not at peace
Lie still
Lie unmoving til breathe ceases
Eyes staring blindly as stars wheel overhead
Till at last no eyes
No skin
Pearls of teeth
The final circle in the dust
Whiteness of bone

If in this infinity of people
Something tuned to my existence
Is astonishing in nature
How do I reconcile this being
How do I integrate my heart
With yours so as not to tread on this wisdom
With all your light
Creativity and hard won insights to self
The heaviness I feel at attacks
On one so present with experience
And by nature such depth reveals itself
Slowly
Touch points and connection
Art, architecture and aesthetics
I feel at points, touched with the recollection
Of the nights ardent caresses
Of its wit, and whispers
Of its easy smiles
Of its lack of duress
Of your scent
The weight of your gaze
As heavy as lead moving through me
Fireflies and electricity
You’re the butterfly on my shoulder
The taste of whisky on my lips
The fingers curled around mine
I see infinity in the gold of your eyes
As we walk through our kiez
I’ll walk life with you
This realness is so easy
So free
But for now, I float with memory

In the arid dust I can see a shimmer of you in the distance, the red of your hair mixing with the ochre earth
Amid the noise and collision of caravansary in Jemaa el-Fna I hear your soft drawl joking with Snake charmers, always in hustle
In souks the sweetness of fennel and myrrh swirl in the wake of travellers steps and I'm reminded of your desert scent, like cedar and musk covered dust
In the dissonance of the call to prayer I can feel your awe as struck as mine, while the roiling sound of voices lifted in faith erupt over the Medina
In the coolness of Jardin Majorelle, I can feel your head resting on my shoulder as I contemplate the reflection of Lotus blossoms in stark blue pools
I see your eyes in the green of the Atlas Mountains, echo your amazement at Saharan navigation, feel your peace as the stars appear over the Riad
But can't feel your hand in mine as the sun sets over Marrakech

To the joy
We dance, we jest and joust
The complex interplay of two
Souls recognising selfness
Seeing the edges fit

To the sorrow
This memory fades, surely, swiftly
A conversation half remembered
The realisation that ..
I can't recall your voice

To the sweetness
A softly remembered moment
The curve of a finger
Tracing line across memory

To the senses
That I can't feel those arms
Lightly, a tear traces a path
I feel it slide down my cheek
Then unseen weight grips

To the Anger
Against moments expectation unmet
When the collision occurs
And unwanted words come forth
The rage unchecked

To the self
The clash of the ego and id
tripartite vying for casual dominion
Eros and Thanatos war
Action dictated by thought

To the internal
The experience of
A lucid world of love
of longing, of joy
And it's counterpart; sadness

As I remember that I will
Never see you again
We will never speak
You will not know
How much you are missed

To friendship
To the joy of finding each other
To the gift of you, selflessly given
To the kindness
To both sides of a being


To the present
To Finding ways to exist Sans those who've faded
Always to persevere
The interlocking of past and now
Always seeing and remembering the essence of their being
Just breathe

To the heart
No words exist for this journey
From innocence to sorrow
And back
But when led with..


Nothing is insurmountable

I’m biting my lip
Thinking about him
The height and his presence
The way my stature fits to his
The sinuous span of his arms
Wrapped around my length
But it’s more than that
It’s how we connect
Through his easy smile
Through smile lined eyes
Through his wit; like a knife
How he sparkles when wrapped
With a presence like mine
And in these arms I forget
Outside woes and regrets
Just present with breath
And how love
Leaves us divine

There’s always a bustle here
In my ritual place of ribs and beer
The sharp scent of ginger and coriander
The acrid burr in my nose of seared flesh
Fusion food served around me
But I go for Hirata.. again.
Can’t argue with taste, and it tastes
Korean bbq and Buddha beer
A brief nod to the moments of clarity
As said by drunks
The beer bottle cool in my hand as I reflect
Beads of condensation forming on Buddhas belly
And I’m here hoping for Constant
It’s now my third attempt
In as many months to catch a glimpse
And tonight apparently the stars align
Jupiter and Mercury on the rise
As I walk in
There is a way about him
So much bluff and bravado...
reminds me of someone I once loved
There is a mischief in his smile
Something warm in his eyes
Even beyond his jokes of his ego
Too big for the Room, apparently
I don’t discourage..
He’s honest in a way that piques
So here I am
Third time lucky finding Constant
To my delight he recognises me instantly
“Lucky Buddha for the lady?”
His eyes dance..
I interpret, maybe to much
But believe he’s pleased to see me
So we joke..
We laugh
I watch him get an earful
For not concentrating on the flow
The manager in tow..
and he side-eyes me and winks
Inwardly I hi-five myself for
Timing this so perfectly
So here I am
Trying not to watch Constant flow
Trying not to blush as he looks my way
“I’m too old for this ****” I think
Then feel like a kid
When he throws a grin my way

My daughter sleeps to the sound of the ocean
softly, gently rocked
forth and afar into dreams and nightmares
a soft static blanket
the assonance of water

My daughter sleeps
to the sound of an ocean that she has never heard
a loop of imagined waves that have
never wet her feet
she has never run screaming and laughing
from the imagined horrors of seaweed, foam
Tangaroa’s arms enfolding her

As my daughter sleeps, I cry
as salty as the swells she’s never seen
in this landlocked room
slowly falling from my cheek
to land on hers
a soft saline baptism

As my daughter sleeps, my thoughts fly
wondering how I can fill her
with the awe that something as elemental
something as capricious
something as beautiful
can exist in this tattered world

but still, my daughter sleeps

Softly child softly
Skitter through the fields to the ruined city
Stand on the outskirts and wonder
Who could have destroyed this?
Wonder
Who could have torn down these arches?
On tiny feet approach
Tread softly child, softly

Over the red dust
Across the desolate plains
Toward the hint of the fallen city.
Foot falls like gentle rain
Wonder mixing with innocence and love
Softly, child

Skip around the rim
Dance with the choice of stepping where none have
On bold feet; Be courageous..
But curiously, child. Softly

Step inside the bounds
Find its dark destroyed corners, and
marvel at the wear of time
Wonder, child

In the epicentre
From which the salt earth extends
A small circle of pearls
Plant a seed
child, thoughtfully

Water it with your tears
Shelter with body and belief
And watch as this seed take
Tend the vines, then
Cultivate the ground with your love
Softly, child

Now sit..
Sit, child
And weep.
Not in shame
Nor sorrow, despair or anguish at loss
Let the marvel of your hands very creation
Fuel your tears
Weep for the subtle nature
Weep for the one who came before
My beautiful child

Now smile
As eyes slowly cloud
As memory finally becomes sight
And lungs now strive for air
Let go
And be at rest, finally as all things
Sleep child.
Peace.

As if in a dream you came to me
I spent a year in a dream with you there
Now
You return night after night
Dressed in rags or
Clothed in finery
Sometimes tempered and alert
Sometimes alive with quick wit and laughter
Once you saved me
You saved what I held dear
Last night you crept into our room and curled up in between us
Woke in our arms
Gifted me fine green glass from Tirol
A Seamrog to forever keep me whole
To keep me safe you said
There was warmth in your eyes
That shy smile on your lips as you gave something of meaning
To someone who means something
I could feel you relax under my arms as we curled up together
Maybe all you were was a dream
Still sometimes you seem more present
A memory summons you and my heart twists
A photo seen
A chuckle remembered
The way the light caught your eyes
It's just dreams
On the outside I look like I'm together
But on the inside I ache
I miss you
Miss stupid chats
Miss hearing your voice
Yet I pushed you away
Just as you pushed me
Now I exist in a vacuum
Sorrow fills the chasms in between
Try to fill the void once occupied with anything
I **** the ache with whatever I can
And thus live with dreams
Only half here
A shell with a you shaped hole in its chest
Haunted by spectres
Grasping at mist
Holding fine green glass

Simple things, like a slow start to a late morning
Like listening to old disco waft over the scent of Arabic roasts
The slight insistence of last night's indulgence not quite crawling across my brain
Like watching my capering daughter with her joy in a small rainbow umbrella
Small hands wanting to help with tasks only a little too large
The company of bright minds in Similar states of satiation
Full of the richness of hollandaise, eggs, the sharp oiled smoke of salmon
Simple things like hi-fiving as we collapse on the sofa, space cleansed, evening sun sprawled a crossed the wall
Golden Berlin sunset calling a riot of houseplants into soft violet contrast, shadows long
Simple like the way the sun catches your profile, and my breath catches in my throat..

Simple things

Are you still there?
Can you hear me?
I can almost feel you
skirting around the outside of my awareness
subsiding in my periphery
I still want you
  but not for my self
I still hear you
  but not speaking in prose to me
I still feel your fire
  but only as an afterthought
Days and months have passed
Still some small part of you remains
Will it be weeks and months
until your presence is gone?
Do I even want that..
Want you absent
Permanently
Unseen
Unfelt
Unheard
A ghost
A spectre of something lost
found and lost again.

She sits across from me now
Similar in so many ways
2 children
About 8 years apart
Arms and back display
A climbers strength
Or a dancers grace
I'm not sure
Gentle lines around
Her eyes and lips
A subtle line of veins
Through skin of hands
And I see so much of myself
Maybe she's older than me
Younger though, I don't think
Her laugh is light, unaffected
There is no smoke
No mirrors here
I hope I am seen
as clearly as her
The lady that has
strange symmetry

A question posed in prose
A subtle shudder washes through me
As I seat myself to listen
To these dark desires, and twisted dreams
Filled with sighs and moans
and scream
My eyes look starward
Head thrown back
Breathe fluttering like butterflies
As alliteration laps my thigh
And whets the blade softly traversing down
Legs press closed so gentle movement
Excites the pearl inside
I avert my eyes as told
Feel your breath dark on my neck
Feel the blood swell through me
Thudding rhythms
In time with its cadence
Is this languishing?
Are you a product of my dark desires?
Ha.
I am a product of yours.
So I open myself fully
Arms akimbo
You imagine you to be MY puppet...
Now imagine I am yours
Waiting for the next penetrating words
To drip lavaciously from your pen
So I can absorb more of you within
Now dreamed who again?

I read these notes
These lost essays
Bland manuscripts of indulgent prattle
I read and read til words blur
Become nonsensical
Strangely monotonous
Then stop myself from being lulled torpid by observing form
The shapely arc of stem
Ligatures defying the very ink printed with
Merging two letters like lovers
Imagining liquid tongues making languid use of diacriticals
Staccato tonal journeys as strange as the homelands I conjure within the cinema of my mind
Exotic women flaunting colour and poise
Men; stoic yet flexible, with eyes that smile as much as mouths do..
They move like raptors and
Then suddenly it's gone!
I'm back in this greyness
Back in this outer world
Reading and reading until words blur
Lost essays
Bland manuscripts
Becoming nonsensical
Strangely monotonous

As the air thins you are called to memory
I am as yet
Unsure of what relationship exists
Between the flitting nimbus and velocity
And me
Perhaps the times I fell away from the earth
Skirting through layers of atmosphere
Between the curvature of horizons
And a past sunset far behind me
I left traces of longing In contrails
I left vapour trails of emotion in the sky
Understandably you are filtered from my gravity restricted musings
With feet on Terra Firma; no contrail exists
Only here with vermillion slashing the clouds
Carving a wake through air so fast sounds can’t catch me
Do I remember how I howled

Words like knives
Words like balm on burn fingers
Words that cut
Wrapped around my heart
Words never spoken on my lips
Words tumble from mouths too fast to stop
They could heal this wound
Or tear at it all the more
Words drunk like water
Words hurled at loved ones
Or whispered to those too far away to touch
To those whose words have healed me; my thanks
To those whose words could heal us all; keep writing
Wrap this world in what could be
Words could save me, if I let them
For now my words will fall on deaf ears
But wrap this soul in prose long past