Weep for me willow
Loose and low
With aged tales
Of travellers
Tuned to the melodies
Of song birds
And sleepy streams
That sigh their way
Through the centuries.

Wave willow
With the winds of change
Root yourself
In soil as aged
As your dreams

He wrote me
wondrous
charmed with
child-like innocence
and soft
with safety

But close the book,
creak of wood
and crawl
of thieving
fingers,
off with the
innocence
let it settle
on the floor,
as stony cold
as all that
softness has become.

He wrote me brave
proud in the way
ladies
should be,
unafraid
and lovely

But turn the
page
and all is fear
and fretful
dreams
soak skin
to awakeness
when footsteps
mark the hall,
and rattles
turn to the
dooming click
of entry.
He hears
every silent
scream.

He wrote me defiant
unreliant on
conformities.
social standing
was just
weakness
dressed prettily

But end the
phrase
and compliant
limbs
fall exhausted
from the fight
and tear-stained
cheeks sting
rosy red
against the pain.

Hold me like you held her
The one I see in your eyes
Whose name you cant disguise
On your lips.
Cherish me as you cherish
Her memory
Dusted off and revisited
In your mind
Kept alive by your
Reluctance to let go.

Share our stories
Like you share hers
With unrehearsed
Adoration
And small smile secrecy
Those moments meant
For only you
And only she,
Smile like that with me.

Love me
Like you loved
And still love her
With that infinite
Reserve of softness
As light as touch to cheek
But boundless in meaning.

Want me
As needily as you want her back
With that
Grasping desperation
That would never
Let me leave
Or let me be
Without you.


But i am not her
The one you
Cant let go.
I am always
The she
That came after.

Leave me lover,
Like autumn leaves
The trees that have
Burnt for its beauty,
Blind to their
Nakedness
When all the fires
Have burnt out.

Would anybody
Want me
With these wounds
Would they
Find proof of
Life
From the quiet
Beat of my
Blood?

The wrong, as always, was the right for us,
tainted trust stained with the blood
of our previous victims;
those whims of wondering what loving touch could feel like.
It burnt us, softened us to smoke,
that floated quiet out the door before dawn could break the news
and break the illusion.

We were loners,
Devoted to laying the stones of our own path,
Never held back tangles of commitment.
Without them we were untethered dreams
that broke into reality and made ourselves the monarchs
of our lowley, lonely kingdoms.

Look what those whims
have done to our crowns;
Rusty and bent they fall hapless
on our heads as we stand before
crowds of shadows cast by our egos.

There are no romances, no capes,
Princes or heroes in this land of the leftovers.
Only us
The wrong adorned as right
The deniers of the light of love
(That weakness of giving in and giving all).
How cold it all becomes when our dreams are big
but hearts are empty.

Every jumble of parts that fell together,
all puzzled at their place, are us;
the infintismal small stuff
of dreams and nightmares,
repeated till they've driven us mad
and had us searching for the impossible,
the drifty philosophical queries
of life living and existing.

Ribbons of rainbows tie us in knots,
connect our dots to the gold within us,
mined and shined to shimmer the normality
of community,
as we live and love it with little homes,
picketed and known only to us.
Those green manicured lawns
Where we raise our young and aspire
To be the corner stone or corner piece
The bit that makes up their sky,
So we can do down in history
Without going dusty in a box
Forgotten or lost
As most puzzle pieces are.

Everything is small today
Closed in
And choking.
Walls are built
From judging gazes
And doors
Are fumbled to lock
Through fear.
My fear
The only certainty I
Own today
It is the spaces of my mind
Is the beat in my chest
The twist in my gut
And all the dust that settles
On the stuff
I no longer think I love.
I cant look at them
Happier in their times of health
I feel like a ***** among them
Stranger bent and twisted
They wonder why i visited
At all
If i cannot stand to smile.
What is that
My lips are downturned hurt
And muscles ache
With the strain
Of keeping it together
If i should loosen my hold
Just for one toothy lie,
The i should fly apart
Around the sadness
Then who would clean up
That mess?

I see the ones
who don't see anyone.
Their skin is as fragile as the pages in an old book
and they look at me with eyes that have read it all,
seen it all
and are still scared.
I know their loved ones;
the worried fingers
that lace and unlace
as they stare a hole in the space between their shoes,
unused to the barriers,
fighting every instinct just to keep dear ones safe.
When I grace their bedside,
adjust the pillows behind their heads, I think;
every touch is their touch -
the ones that can't be close -
reaching through closed doors.
Every look is their look.
Every word of comfort are words those loved ones would say.
I hope they know,
and I pray they are
no longer alone.

'But I can't fly'
Said the
Buttetfly-to-be.
'Oh my dear,
One day you will
And you'll do it
Beautifully'.

I loved his hands
Not too big
Not too small
Just right
And fitted on my hip
That splendorous press
In the small of my back
When he wanted me close

I loved his eyes
That darkly gaze of
Auborn
All full up with the passion
And persuasion
That could make me
Doing anything
The toe tingling
Look or heat
When he turned
That gaze
To mine.

I loved his lips
Rough
And wicked
On my skin.
That purse
Of soft sinfulness
That pressed my
Own to part with sighs

I loved his laugh
Husky happiness
Unrestraind and deep
That moved me to smile
Brightest.
Joined in joyous
Inside jokes
That lingered dimply
In his cheeks.

I loved his heart
The steady thrum
When pressed ear
To his chest
That secret space
Of blood and ache
That he gave me access to
I loved it all


But I
did not
love him.

Perfumed bedsheets,
Canvas the colour of her smile;
They'd become a cliche,
But he found
Even that
Was a masterpiece.

You're no longer here
But my footsteps
Ring with your laughter
And all the things
I wanted to say
After you'd gone.

I may have loved you
In another life
Known eyes bedfellow blue
Vibrant against white sheets
Sapphire
Sparkling
With the afterglow

I may have known you
At another time
Weary hands wrapped
In comfort round
Your cup
As you supped steam
And casual
Dreams that tasted
Like coffee beans
And sugar cubes

I may have lost you
At another place
The lace of our lives
Untying as we pulled apart
No longer heart
To heart
And soul to soul
Two wholes, alone
That once were the full
Of each other

I may have had you
In another life
Let you lightly love me
As I lightly love
The thought
Of us across the past
Whimsical
Wonderful
And always too fragile
To ever last
Forever.

We are here
Whiskey addled
And full of quiet
Smokily cigaretted in the after.
Every touch
Taps a nerve
That shivers across
Our pillowed universe
And meets in our gaze

Puckered lips
Kiss eyelids to close
All our fervour
Now to sleep
On bed sheets and skin
Tangled toe to toe
And palm
To heart.

Glassy morn
Glimmer at me
Fill my lungs
Aftesh
With freshest air
Delightful and dewy
Mark me with your
Cold sun
And breathe
My breath
To clouds.

Eventually,
It all comes down to pieces,
Bits of people pottery
Left behind in flowerbeds
And dug up
When rough fingers
Work the soil.
Pastly and willowed
Water and war marked
How did you come to break?
What rough egdes met
To wear you to point the blame
Cut and quick to judge,
Vessel that filled with hate
And quickly spent its uselessness
Upon the slabs.

Or did aged shakes
Dislodge you from
Weakened fingers
And bitter tears wash you away
With all the memories
Centuries from the sky?

Perhaps, playfully
You were pinched
Sticky fingers
Stealing childish treaures
Carried from domestic shores
To mystic lands
Of imagination.
Were you blamefully broken
Innocence ending
For the journey back
Indoors?
Press ear to shard
And I can still hear the call

Eventually it all
Comes down to pieces.

Palm pressed
To the glassy impression
Of you who would
Steal my likeness.

Are we the same
Souls similarly soaked with sadness
Weighted down with woes and worries
Whittled away to outlines
Ill defined
Against a back drop of finality

Sometimes I feel like we're connected
Heart to heart
String between
Held in place with safety pins.

New name
He speaks it like a new taste
Repetitive,
Reflective,
And I lean in close
To taste it with him.
All our differences,
Nuances,
This is just the same
A carbon copy
Of previous behaviour
But it all feels so new.
Like we were the first,
Threw old names in the dirt
And sheltered under
Our idea of love
Of all it took
To be enough for another.
Me a Mrs
You a Mr
All proud and puffed
With the transition
That was as simple as donning a suit
And stepping out of a dress

The path is the same;
Same crisscross of black
And churned up river bed,
The crash of the trees
And distant symphonies
Of trains, of traffic,
As I take each step.

Booted feet shine with dew
And I think of you.

Was it here? This patch?
This green and yellow halo
Shines dully, idly
And I think I can see that night.
Not like its clear
Or that you're here,
A mirage of some other you
Some other me.

They're echoes,
They shout beneath the bridge
Scream up at the bricks
And let it echo
Echo.

That other me
Stranger in this suit of now
Did love and laugh
And cling,
Every little thing was kept
Even worthless poetry,
Those naive ode's to love.

I remember it was cold
And I was slimmer, thinner,
Cut away and wispy
In the chill.
And you,
Were you.
I probably don't know you now
And never will.
Our worlds are fleeting
Changing like seasons
And in cliche frays get
Blown into non-existance.

A stranger promised
And clung
And wept.

But I am now
Fitted and anchored
Not melancholy
And melodramatic,
Whimsical of a time
That I rhymed
In a desperate attempt
At the nostalgic.

That was then
And I'm not yours.
Not anymore.

Workers boots are full of voices
Melodies and words
Never sung, never spoken
Never written
Just steel toed and ordinary.

Put them on
Tie a knot
Workers boots are heavy,
Heavy with ordinary.

Workers boots are full of dreams
Incredible things
They go by unknown,
Unlived and outgrown
Filed away for ordinary.

Put them on
Tie a knot
Workers boots are heavy,
Heavy with ordinary.

The world awaits
And I travel side by side
Where weary steps
Did mark the ground anew
Sunrises to sunsets.
Patron saint
Of wandered worlds
Colours dark and light,
My feet
My hands
Know foreign day
Know of foreign nights.
To see each land
Soil and sand
Lives changed along the way
Tis why I walk
Tis why I leave
Because the world awaits.

Adventurer, my adventurling,
Wandering the wild woods of newness,
Fern fresh. Smells unknown
To a nose
That knows nothing of wet leaves
And undergrowth,
Mulch that dampens in the rain,
Mossed rock soppy and soaked
With age.
Novice to the backpack, outback,
Untracked tracks on unspoiled paths.
****** to the bluest eyes
Cut softly, gently, waterly
By lakes of mountains,
Lakes of skies.
Mirror to the heavens
The untrodden, barren, open wasteland full of light.
Touch toes to ancient rocks,
Reach hands to ancient stars
And know, that as old and wandered
As you are,
They will always be new.