Separate the hand from the rocks
For too long, and up it comes
The charge of static
The small bolt of lightning that shocks
And elicits an automatic cry.
Its erratic intensity: a measure
Of distance and time that's come between,
Far apart - isolated from contact.
It will ground you, take you back
To zero
And bring you down to earth.

On your own - no change marked
Imperceptible charge grows,
Ions negative and unbidden,
Your remove from society deepens;
Your relation and bond to others weakens,
Until contact becomes a danger
TO ALL PARTIES.
No - from time to time touch base,
Family, funny friend, ground,
You must earth the Soul.

There are a thousand darknesses
That lie ahead
To escape the fastness
Of our marital bed.

So much to lose
Time, money, emotional life
I have to choose
To wield the knife,

To cut the bond
The spirit, the law
To wave the wand
Extract your claws

I won't return
I can't go back
The light I discern,
The tunnel, the track.

A one-way journey,
Committed and sure,
The way to be free,
To close the door.

Goodbye, you hell-cat,
Goodbye, once-loved,
A whirlwind, a witch's hat,
A doldrum, velvet-gloved.

You are wild, you are calm,
First you love, then despise,
I was lost in your charm,
Fooled by your disguise

I run free, I'm alive,
I can't help you find peace,
Adieu, my future arrives,
This blessed release.

My blood flows so dutifully
Sweat arrives on cue
Skin protects quite beautifully
Heart beats strong and true

Breath turns up when needed
It hasn't failed in years.
Muscles work unheeded
Faithful as eyes and ears

My body and I
We have so little in common

In this morning's waiting room
And then the café, breaking bread -

I might have read,
Engaged in reverie
Lost myself in thoughts,
Or meditative memory.

But someone overruled
To agitate the air
With an imbroglio
With the inane, vain,
Smug banter of local radio.

It claimed the arena,
And turned our space
From haven into mayhem,
Compulsively silting up
My poor, empty ears
With an unhealthy sound.
Like painting out the view
Behind Beata Beatrix
With a filthy fairground.

Just what we need!
This constant aural cattle-feed.
So: every tree in my opinion
- (I'm speaking as a lowly minion)
Should be hung with massive speakers
Huge loudspeakers, woofers, tweeters,
To entertain us in every place
With never-ending drum and bass,
Then verbose youths, with wit so clever
Can pump us full of **** forever.

What gift is this?
I see colours flashing
With heavy eyelids closed
And burning smoky aromatic herbs
Fill my nostrils
Life suddenly richer,
More vibrant -
Oh but the light! -
The fabulous, dazzling headaches
The spinning, pinning pain
The swinging, swingeing mood

Now the transient slideshow
Almost romantic dances
Of a neighbourhood's pitying glances
Whether to hug or spit venom?
There's a snake in my head.

And my family's faces...
Iron resolve
Crumbled by rusting tears.

The suspense is killing us.
This delay is like comedy.
The hiatus of having
A foot in each world.

Second time lucky! - This failed
The nine word poem competition.