The grandfather clock in the hallway punctuates the darkest moments of my life
Not the plastic passing of time but the deep resounding timbre that you only find in proper clocks
Proper clocks with keys and not batteries, with brass faces and ornate hands.
With roman numerals and not numbers, chains and weights and wheels and chimes.
A sooundtrack lost in the hysteria of day that, but as darkness falls
it becomes the very essence of a sleepless night
.
.
Tick
.
.
Tock
.
.

Meet me neath the sweetheart tree
As soon as church is out
I got something there to show you
And that I’m nervous aint no doubt

See Trouble now its been a while
Since you an’ me been goin’ steady
And I been fixing t’ask you somethin’
Just till now I ain’t been ready

See I got me this ID bracelet
I done had since I left high school
And if you’d wear this for me Trouble
Well that’d just be too cool

Now it don’t mean we’re married
Oh no ma’am nothing like that
See I don’t wanna scare you off none
I just want folks to know where we’re at

I know they call you Trouble
But they don’t see you like I do
Cos silly names and rumours
Stopped ‘em seein’ the real you

But I’m sure glad I took the time
And spent it in your company
Cos the more I know the more I love
The girl in front of me

The tragedy of war,
ends not with those who died
for the tragedy continues
in fragile minds who did survive.

For those who's names appear
on brass plaque or marble stone
are the only ones amongst us
for whom war is truly gone

The survivors of mans biggest crime
their wars will have no end
guilt, despair and bitterness
their constant hateful friend

It's hard to feel like hero's
no matter what you say.
when you're torn by guilt
that you're not the one,
in that green field far away.

So I say to leaders of this world
this nightmare should be gone.
Please realize once and for all
that a war is never won.

To seek the truth, look in my eyes,
for like my lips they hold no lies.
Within the depths you there will see,
the truth of what you mean to me.

I wonder if she'd changed her mind
just who it is you'd be?
Would you be gentle like your mother,
or would you look like me.
Would you have grown into a fine young man?
Would your eyes be brown or green?
I sometimes wonder how you would have looked,
this year you would have been prom queen.
I wish that she had told me,
that she'd decided not to go.
Then I wouldn't mourn the child,
the world never got to know.

There is space tween you and I
that we may just never bridge
A truth I slowly realise
yet struggle to admit

You tell me that you love me
and you know I feel it too
from here it seems so simple
but not alas to you

In many way we are so close
yet always out of reach
Defences we both put in place
that neither one can breach

Though put in place to keep us safe
from pain and fear and doubt
They have the added side effect
of keeping others out

When finally I crossed your path
and wished to set you free
The gates were locked so long ago
you could not find the key

And so this space tween you and I
remains unto this day
I sit and wait while you decide
if there’s another way

Is it wrong to want to see you
to know just where we stand
To take a walk along the beach
together hand in hand.

To talk about each other
and say just what we feel
about this and that and everything
just the thought seems so surreal

Is it possible to find someone
who's both a lover and a friend
As our boundaries of discussion
have no limits, have no end

And that for me, well its a first
to be so open, laid so bare
yet without slightest hesitation
we let ourselves be guided there

I cant help but think and wonder,
as I sit here on the sand
when we'll walk here together
you and I just hand in hand.

I've shut my tears away
in a well so deep inside
ne'er to see the light of day
my sadness for to hide

But I know that one day soon
this well will overflow
perhaps alone in darkened room
my pain it will not show

But I fear that once they start to flow
they will fall til the well runs dry
and thats not a place I want to go
without a loved one by my side

For years I've shut my tears away
now its time to let them go
and free myself along the way
as I feel them start to flow

I think therefore what?
I am, I know, I could be?
Perhaps I just think.

I think that I’m in love
with who I think you are
And I think you’re pretty ****
from what I think I’ve seen so far

I think you’re pretty smart
even though you think that you’re not
And I think you’re really pretty
in fact I think you’re pretty hot

But I know that you intrigue me
and I know you make me smile
and I know when I don’t speak to you
that time drags on for miles

I know that I don’t know enough
to know if you’re the one
But I think that if you think on it
you’ll think it might be fun

So I think that we should go somewhere
then I’ll stop thinking all this stuff
Instead of thinking I’ll be knowing
whether or not I am in love.

My life is a spiral of debt and despair
The pressure upon me is too much to bear
So I sit in my bedsit surrounded by bills
In one hand a bottle, the other, some pills
And I think to myself, has it really come to "this"?

I cant live with the shame of the things that occured
It was not meant to happen, I give you my word
Now I stand on the cliff and look down at the sea
And it feels like the only way out for me
And I think to myself, how did it ever come to "this"?

I once had a job and life was so sweet
Then it all went wrong and now I live on the street
I've fallen so far that I beg with a cup
My life is worth nothing, nothing to give up
And I think to myself, how can I carry on like "this"?

Think not of the why or the hows or the pain
There are people to help you start over again
There are friends out there that you've yet to meet
Who's purpose in life to give you new feet
To stand on your own and start over again
just so that you know "this" is not how it ends

Cast the loneliness aside
close the doors, keep out the cold
wrap me like a blanket round your shoulders
tell me stories yet untold

We'll sit beside the fire you and I
as if this time would know no end
and talk long into the night
sharing secrets between friends

and as the sun begins to rise
on this a new, and brighter day
never again for you will loneliness
for we will always have this day

Loved up, twitterpated,
call it what you will,
there really are no words,
to describe the way i feel.

When I hear her voice,
my spirits start to rise,
but pales in comparison,
when I look into her eyes.

When she's around I feel complete,
like all of me is there,
but when we're not together,
I fall victim to despair.

I have no words to describe this,
and I don't know what to do,
because I've never been affected,
the way I am with you.

This is not my poem
Sure I sat here and wrote it down,
but its not my poem.
Yes, yes I took the time to memorise it so I could see my words reflected in the expressions on your face as I read aloud...
but its not my poem.

This is your poem
You wrote this
You wrote this with your smile
the curve of your lips wrote this
the sparkle in your eyes punctuated every line and measured every pause, perfectly.
Your lips formed every word, sounded every syllable, created the melody that echos in my head as I write YOUR poem.

The rise and fall of your chest first catches my breath, then takes it away completely. Sensibilities and caution tumble down your back like rain in a warm summer shower that falls from a star filled sky, the heavens have opened. My heavens have opened. Caution is now a distant memory, like something once heard but long forgotten, something you knew you once knew but know you no longer have to remember so while there is at least an awareness of it, its passing will not be mourned.

And there, pooled in the small of your back, nestled just above the curve of your buttocks, lies hope.

The hope that the beauty I see in you, in us, in everything since we met isn't a mirage, isnt a projection of some one sided fantasy but that its real. That its as real for you as it for me and that I'm not alone. That I'm not alone in the way I feel and the way I think and the way........ the way.....the way I love. Its hope that knowing how I feel, how much I'm in love, in love with you, the hope that hearing me say out loud the very thing that I've had to fight telling you on a daily basis hasn't scared the **** out of you the way finally admitting it to you has me.
But this isn't my poem.
This is your poem.
You wrote it
and its my gift to you.

sometimes the words just don't come
the thoughts and feelings are there
untainted emotions
so raw they cannot be touched
so fragile do they seem, that the slightest contact would shatter them and scatter them to the four corners of my very soul
this is what really lies within me
this is what I cannot bring myself to share
all history has been stripped and I am left with only me
this is the part of me that no one knows
this is whats left
this is the price I dare not pay

Look over here!
there's a reason to be scared.
Pay no attention to the truth
there's misdirection we've prepared

Forget the facts
national security's at risk
we'll just sidestep what you've read
after all, does it exist?

It's just a game
a little give, a little take
we didn't mean it quite like that
c'mon give us all a break

After all
you have given us your trust
and if think that we're so bad
you should hear what they say of us

Can you blame them?

What is this thing called love of which you speak,
A fleeting dream of hope so many seek,
A look, a touch, a passion tasted,
Bereft of which heart is wasted.

It is with time our wisdom grows,
It is with time our sorrow goes,
It is with time our hope ascends,
It is with time our hearts will mend.

Each day I get the gift of time
and here's what I do
I spend it in so many ways
and not always how I choose

I spend maybe a quarter of it
sleeping in my bed
all tolled an hour eating
its good for you I read

then there is the work thing
its not the thing that I like best
I write poetry and do my chores
and tend to waste the rest

Of the ways I spend my gifts
one thing is always true
the part that I enjoy the most
is the time I spend with you

Today I woke up to your voice
calling out my name
and it sounded like sweet music
so gentle its refrain

it was like waking up to raindrops
falling softly on my face
and for a moment memories
had fallen out of place

but then it all came creeping back
and the pain welled up inside
of the night I woke up to your voice
when in my sleep you cried

I don't know how you reached me
from so may miles away
but one minute I was sound asleep
the next I heard you say

please honey, come and get me
for I don't feel so good
somethings happening to the baby
it doesn't feel like it should

As fast as I could get there
I drove the 40 miles
to your sisters on the lakeshore
where we'd shared so many smiles

But as I turned round the corner
nearly crashing at the gate
I could see the paramedics
and I knew I was too late

They said you didn't make it
that the baby had died too
why did you hide your sickness from me
there could've been something we could do

Well that was seven years ago
and each day I feel the pain
But today I woke up to your voice
calling out my name.

And it sounded like music...

Take my hand and walk with me,
along lifes winding path.
Together we will learn of life,
we'll love and cry and laugh.

Take my hand walk with me,
around the rivers bend.
And I will keep you in my heart,
for you are my best friend.

Take my hand just one more time,
squeeze tight don't let it go.
This journey is the last for me,
but I must pass alone.

Lay down my hands across my chest,
for its time to say goodbye.
But we'll hold hands once more my friend,
upon the other side.

I write about religion
sometimes yours and sometimes mine
I write about the people
some still here some left behind

I write about my loves
some are living some are dead
I even write bout ***
on the floor and in the bed

And I write 'bout politicians
and the futility of war
and how their self serving actions
appall me to the core

I write about love
and I write about hate
the changing of the seasons
and how I'm always late

I write about ideas
that come into my head
what it feels like to be alive
and what if I were dead

I write about so many things
from different points of view
So for opening the floodgates
consider this write, a thank you.

No covers tonight
The cold side of the pillow
Always keeps me cool

Single loads of laundry
sad freezer meals for one
no dishwasher for me
just ice cream by the ton

the never tested voicemail
on the outgoing only phone
one knife, one fork, one plate
signs that yes I live alone

take-out menu fridge door
a doorbell never rung
ipod playlists for the company
that never ever comes

early nights and books
an optimistic queen size bed
a collection of matching pillows
that only ever see my head

the one cup coffee maker
a single slice of toast
bills paid on time or early
nothing handwritten in the post

a will with nothing in it
and no one to leave it to
burial or cremation
I mean really, which would you?

no life insurance needed
retirement arranged
no girlfriend, lover, wife
ex, current or estranged.

Is this the way its headed
if it is I'll pack my trunk
shave my head and dress in orange
move to thailand, be a monk.

Frightened and confused;
a soul so absolutely lost.
On a bridge above a river asks
"Is the freedom worth the cost?"

I spend my days
trying not to cave
or give in to this sense of despair
but inside I'm drowning in panic
as I fight to the surface for air

At night while in bed it continues
there is no escape
it would seem
inevitably once I fall asleep
I awaken again with a scream

I don't know where it comes from
or how it gets into my head
but I don't get the chance
to dream any more
as nightmares appear in their stead

My body is beaten and tired
exhausted again here I lay
watching the clock
as the numbers count down
to another miserable day

Touch me,
it doesn't matter where
and it doesnt matter how
I need to know I'm still alive
so someone touch me now
Shake my hand and say hello
or pat me on the back
kiss me on the cheek
that I may feel this sense I lack
slap my face and pull my hair
make me bleed I just don't care
dig your nails into my skin
so I can feed this need within
I've been numb for such a time
that even pain would be sublime
so touch me, touch me now
I don't care where, I don't care how

How does it feel to read this
and know that its all about you.

When you recognize the moments
what does it make you want to do?

Do you feel somehow betrayed
like your secrets have been shared

Or does it fill you with a certain warmth
to see how much I cared

Does it make you smile to yourself
because you know who its about

Or are truly terrified
in case someone finds out

Fear not for I will tell no one
it is my secret too

The only ones who know the truth
of this tale are me and you

let's trade places you and I
and see what it like from the other side
would I want you as much if you were me
and if I were you would I yearn to be free

would you tread time like water waiting for me
would I rush through my day so your words I could see
would I check my phone the way that you do
to see if a text or an email came through

and would you sit at a screen and search for the words
that scatter like seeds left out for the birds
and try to pick out the ones that are real
the ones when combined that show how I feel

and would you start over and over again
giving thanks for a keyboard instead of a pen
thinking how trees must be glad that I write on a screen
and not on scrap paper tossed out by the ream

at the end of the day when we came face to face
would I be just like you with your poise and your grace
and would you be sat there trying for cool
while feeling inside like a kid still in school

I'm assuming of course that were different inside
yet both going about working out how to hide
the truth of the feelings we're longing to share
the breadth and the depth of just how much we care

so if we traded places and I became you
could I do the things that I ask you to do
and if you became me could you easily wait
or would you, like me, be afraid of "too late"

unexpected bounce
unthinking chase
unseen car
unforgettable mistake

sunset summers eve
golden hues on passing day
and so night does fall

Weeping willow weep not for me,
for my time is nearly done.
I'm just a weary traveler,
seeking shelter from the sun.

I'm on my final pilgrimage,
the one that takes me home,
to a place thats not too far from here,
from where I used to roam.

My travels took me round the world,
cross countries near and far.
Walked each day in golden sunlight,
slept under nights as black as tar.

But to my home I now return,
at the ending of my days,
for on my beloved England,
I shall rest my final gaze.

Weeping willow weep not for me,
for my time is nearly done.
I'm just a weary traveler,
seeking shelter from the sun.

I'm on my final pilgrimage,
the one that takes me home,
to a place thats not too far from here,
from where I used to roam.

My travels took me round the world,
cross countries near and far.
Walked each day in golden sunlight,
slept under nights as black as tar.

But to my home I now return,
at the ending of my days,
for on my beloved England,
I shall rest my final gaze.

There are more than a few
questions in life
that at first blush sound like a trap
like does my **** look big in this
or how do I look in this hat

Or perhaps you've been asked
to guess someone's age
or perhaps even worse guess their weight
to all of these questions the answer should be
to look in their eye, tell em straight.

"I could tell you the truth
as it appears to me
but is that what you want to hear
I get the feeling you know the answer
and getting it wrong's what I fear"

"So if its OK with you I'll pass on that one
and the reason for this is, you see,
While certain answers have
an upside for you
there's just no upside for me."

Your legs go all the way from your flip flops
right up to your cut off jeans
when my momma warns me bout certain girls
I can see you're the type that she means

There's a look in your eye
and a thing in your walk
that i struggle to fully describe
and everyone knows when your man
he'll sure be lucky to survive

you're trouble in a cut offs
so everyone says
but I think you're just misunderstood
and wrapped in that passionate chassis
is a heart that feels nothing but good

so sure I'll go to the dance with you
then maybe down to the lake for a walk
we can sit on the shore til the sun comes up
and listen to music and talk

and when we get back home next morning
and I drop you early and bright
you can guess what the neighbours are saying
but hell we'll know we did right

so trouble in cut offs she aint all that bad
not as bad as you'd like her to be
there's a side of her people don't think of
a side that chose to show me

I hear Troubles gonna call
gonna knock upon my door
so what am I to do
if she should push me to the floor

Or if she takes me by the hand
leads me to another room
and smothers me in ecstasy
what a way to meet my doom

But perhaps all that is rumors
and she's not like that at all
just a victim of the lies from those
on whom she doesn't call

Thats why I don't make judgments
on tales others tell
I'd rather find out for myself
cos then I'd know ****** well

If the rumors they are true
then I'll know just what to do
but if the rumors are just rumors
then I'm ready for that too

You see Troubles gonna call
and she's gonna call on me
and as for whats gonna happen next
we'll just have to wait and see.

Everyone is perfect, in that special persons eyes
And **** is a state of mind, nothing to do with size

And beauty is a thing, that lingers deep inside
and is never superseded, by what is seen outside

Sometime people try to tell us, that none of this true
and if you're one of those people, then I feel bad for you

Because everything thats physical, will one day fall away
and then you will be left alone, with your shallow little ways

When you turn a blind eye
I know you still see
it just means its ok
what he's doing to me

You think of yourself
and what you have to lose
every time he comes home
stinking of *****

Turning your back
gives the ok to do
whatever to me
so he don't do it to you

I hope that its worth it
all the **** that you'd lose
to you let me your son
become bruised and abused

You dont hear the screams
or the cries in the night
or the slaps and the punches
when I put up a fight

But don't worry about me
cos I died long ago
just forgot to lie down
so that no one would know

There's nowhere I can run
and nowhere I can hide
When folks tried to help
you just stood there and lied

Well lie about this
when this poem gets read
the truth will come out
they'll know why I'm dead

They'll know that you knew
and you turned a blind eye
right up to the day
I decided to die

For the longest time now
I've been dead inside
well enough of this ****
I got nothing to hide

I was only a kid
that was destined to lose
so his ***** of a mom
got her smokes and her *****

And her **** of a boyfriend
that twisted old ****
got his pleasure from kids
or as he called me her "runt"

You should know when you read this
fore the razor bit down
that I emailed this poem
to the papers in town

I hope that you find me
and it fills you with pride
try and turn a blind eye
now you've nowhere to hide

Every night when I turn over, before I fall asleep, I wait for you to ask why.
I wait for you to ask why so that I can explain.
I can explain that if I turn over I can't see you. If I turn over and I wake up in the night, which is seem to do every night I stay here, at least two or three times, then all I see in the moonlight is the attic door, the vague outline of a bedside table, the soft pulsing glow of a charging cellphone.
Because if I can't see you then I can convince myself I won't feel the need to touch you.
Because if I don't touch you, I don't have to deal with the way it feels when you pull away.
So I turn over every night before I go to sleep and wait for you to ask.
But you never do.

She buys herself so many pretty things
like shoes and purses, underwear and rings
A pride in her appearance she does take
but cries when once again alone she wakes

Perhaps is not the way she looks that counts
the frustration of her loneliness starts to mount
In time she'll see her attitudes the key
and a nicer person she will start to be

Cos it don't matter if your pretty,
well dressed or even rich.
When push comes to shove
a ***** is still a *****.

Summer is too hot
And yet Winter is too cold
Ungrateful extremes

That unexpected surge of passion
who knows from whence it came
But we just had to have each other
over and again

Barely time to make it through the door
before clothing it got shed
no time to waste on buttons
things just got ripped off instead

fumbled for a light switch
staggered 'long the hall
moonlight through the windows
as family photo's started to fall

dining table cleared
in a single one armed sweep
who cares about the noise
it's too late to be discrete

skirts lifted to save time
******* just pulled to one side
belts undone, zippers ripped open
so suddenly inside

a display so animal in nature
as your nails dug in my back
groans of passion fill the air
patience was all we lacked

Eventually its over
****** acheived, ****** shared
panting in the moonlight
bodies naked, passions bared

This doesn't happen every day
and maybe never will again
That unexpected surge of passion
who knows from whence it came

I watched you pick the pieces up,
and carefully set them down.
Where no more harm could come to them,
no more in tears they'd drown.

I watched you carefully wipe them dry,
and blow away the dust,
with love and tenderness your tools,
you cleaned away the rust.

And then I watched you take each piece,
and work out where it went.
And soon my heart was whole again,
'cause of the time you spent.

And finally I watched,
as you brought it back to life,
with the words that you would love me,
that you would be my wife.

And now my heart is strong again,
your presence makes it sing.
Now I give to you the rest of me,
together, with this ring.

A love thats unconditional
does such a thing exist
or is it like a phantom
hiding in the mist?

Every day I hide behind
the words upon my screen
hoping that you can decipher
exactly what they mean

I try so hard to share with you
the feelings deep inside
I dare not tell you to your face
so behind my words I hide

I wish that I had the courage
the strength to tell you from me
the feelings so plainly there in my eyes
for all the world to see.

I wish I could be so eloquent
that these words would fall from my mouth
But alas when I see you in person
all the best lines seem to head south

I'm scared that you dont feel the same
about me as I do you
So here I lay and type away
hoping my wishes come true

The value's not dictated,
by how hard it is for me?

I think finally i get it.
I think finally i see.

Just because I find it easy,
doesn't make it less.

Just means that its a skill,
with which I have been blessed.

For the longest time I struggled,
to know the worth of things I do.

But now I see the value lies,
In how hard it is for you.

Sometimes I dream of sleeping
never to awake
would that be a thing so terrible
is that a choice that I could make?

As I face a life of solitude
sometimes resolute and strong
voluntary independence
few even noticing I've gone

I cannot help but wonder
if a never ending sleep
would release me from these memories
allow me finally to weep

Would I finally get closure
feel all my debts were fully paid
would I find the peace I long for
only when in the ground I'm laid

Did you know that since I met you I haven’t finished a single cup of coffee,

or had a dream that I could remember

or gone to bed the same day that I got up?

I’m not complaining mind you.

I just find it intriguing the little things you have changed in my life without even realising it,

without any effort.

My life used to be mostly empty, as in devoid of things, vacuous perhaps, if that means like a vacuum. I mean there was lots of space in it that wasn’t filled with anything in particular.

But you have managed to fill all of that nothingness up.

The times when I used to sit here and daydream about nothing, suddenly there you are.

When I close my eyes before going to sleep and used to spend on average seven minutes thinking of nothing (and that a scientific fact not one I made up) I now spend (on average) seven minutes thinking about you.

In that fraction of a second when breathing in turns to breathing out, there you are.

In that fraction of a second when I blink, its you I see.

Because its you I yearn for. Because its you I want to have and hold and kiss and caress and so much more that I dare not write, even in a poem.

But how?

How did you do this?

How did you invade my very psyche, my soul, my spirit so completely so effortlessly and with such subtlety that I never even noticed. Until I noticed. And its not like I noticed you were here and watched as you spread to there but you were suddenly everywhere.

Places no one else had ever been before.

Ever.

Places that people I had known for much longer and much more intimately had never been able to reach.

And yet there you are.

Sitting on a swing.

Waiting.

I just wish I knew what for.