I remember you standing
in the full and easy living.
wearing, that night, your slightest frock

a conspiracy of breath.
that collected, around your body,
like the murmuration  of tiny birds

a loose smothering
of soft luminous folds
smoldering like a dusky halo

the merest graze of weave.
a delicate trace of distance
that clouded the sound of flesh

the skirt fell like an ocean
or a breeze rippling the rain
onto the reach and flow of your limbs

Like an old unwritten story
from the dark earth and brimming sky
it whispered a forgotten language
in the rustle and sigh of dance

I push, with all my might
as my mind attacks your silence
and my heart whispers stop.

I believe for a second, then stumble,
clutching at hope,
in a last ditch attempt 
to hold on to myself,
to you,
to us.

I push again, harder now
drowning in defiance
as tears burn pallid flesh
and skin is softly bruised
by diagnosed loathing and sharpened hands.

I push once more
your name now an echo
too late upon my lips
an unwanted cry to the weary,
ever to remain unanswered.

Is HP now a T.V guide?
It drives me to distraction
to see these adds on the front page
when I want some poem action.
Our poets are all writing
and posting stuff to read
but the room is being taken up
by adds for crap tv.
So listen up dear spammers
this warning you should heed
shove your ****** adverts
anywhere but on my feed!!

Dark branches dance against an aluminium sky
as dusk taints the edges with blue.
The last crow warns of death as it passes,
it's cry echoing along the shoeless streets
and down to the brook where once laughter played.
Storm clouds gather in furious array
shaking thunderous fists at the earth below,
their forked tongues tearing the atmosphere
as the first droplets spew forth from their ragged mouths.

The milk of human kindness,
a bitter tincture to swallow,
hold the nose, sip it down,
malaise caught in a furrowed frown,

never to bite the hand that feeds,
just gnaw at the skin until it bleeds
the masters table has room for all,
fain take our fill from the crumbs that fall.

For a second the world was silenced and freedom mourned.