"pieces of minds are everywhere"
you cant get out of bed without walking all over some
having laid within someone's invention all night long.
Its in the mind of some you succeed in all you do
while dealing with the many minds that have their own agenda.
and that agenda is hidden for the most part, weaved into the very fabric of the clothes you wear, fashion victim, sporting colours and a sense of belonging to a group. Its the ape in you, safety in numbers. and if your bank balance is high enough to gain you entry to any door you choose.
You leave pieces of your mind everywhere, a self serving surveillance,
cookies and mobile phone masts, the films you go see. and maybe more importantly all the things you avoid, or reject.

tea drinking days interspersed with days of popped corked red
never quite sure which one will materialise
its a choice, they say, matter of fact, like everything else
and right there their logic falls down and I reach for my favourite glass.

Voices carry far here, on the wind
and loud across the water
human voices and whispers of fish
bird chatter and the squeaks of rats
voices from outer space, unintelligible
and silent voices that say it all at once.

you can make friends with a fly
like all true friendship, it will not always be reciprocal

I remember you when you were fifteen.
Holding your first cigarette between your manicured nails and smiling at the moon.
And through the years
I've seen you spend most of your time trying to escape your thoughts until six in the morning
With a book and a cat
The two things you called the greatest loves of your life.
I've seen you walk down flowery paths with the sun in your eyes
And through darkened forests, wondering desperately where the sun had gone.
I've heard you talk about death and God, your favourite whiskey and your dog. About the most shallow and mundane of events, and the deepest of philosophies.
And I see you now
In your plaid shirts and lace-up boots,
Trying to hide your face in your hair
Calmly turning away every chance at love you find
Searching desperately for distraction
In a gram of ******* and the pen and paper sitting by your bedside.