when he spoke
his voice was the sound of tomorrow
and his words were sweet and enigmatic
taking you to the fields and the forests
to the sound of the go-away bird
and the apocalyptic ground horn-bill
when he spoke
he was not  so small a boy
his was alive with things no one understood
and made you feel it would all go well
even as the storms gathered and there was a swell
of fervour, mysticism and gallant conviction
that sent the sons of mothers to their many deaths
his name was freedom
liberty today and tomorrow the moon!
the cry rang out everywhere with electric effect
and there was no need for the double-speak of diplomacy
or the hollow-sounding epithets of hair-splitting academics
freedom spoke for himself

Down by the sea
where the marram grass grows
there's a ******* the beach
in a rusting boat
with a tablecloth sail
and it's rudder broke
and her eyes are an ocean wide..

I never meant to be a ghost
A white ethereal thing
Wasting in my hauntings
Fading till I become diaphanous
While other foolish specters
Float and laugh at me
In a horrendous cacophony
Yearning for the living
But knowing I am dead
Reaching for new lovers
But never finding their hands
Searching for old friends
Longing for lost family
But I am me
As I have always been
A ghost dancing in the wind
Cold white sheet shimmering
And pirouetting
Praying that someday the forgetting
Will settle in
And I will be normal

Losing physical weight as my
Mind expands.
I have been mouth for as long
As I can remember,

Now let me be hands. Hands, so
I may release you and hunger on.
Blessed be all things un-eternal.
I can only sleep in burning houses.

For Helene.


Ashes on the water, now.
Love's bones like dust downstream.  
At least it got to see itself in our eyes,
Feel itself between hand holding hand

And whispered caresses.
From pillow talk to fists raised at
Concerts, glasses of Portuguese wine
On her balcony to the sound of magpies

We named our neighbours.
We were beautiful.
Began beautifully.
Ended gracefully.

I open hands that held hers and see
Nothing but skin worn by labour,
And air.
Ashes on the water, now.

Embers without a chance against rivers  
Cold with melted mountain snow and
Unyielding differences.
Some loves drown with lungs too full

To cry; others float like a funeral-pyre-
Longboat into the night, ablaze.
King and queen, hand upon hand.
Crowns tied from fresh flowers,

We were beautiful.
Began beautifully.
Slid apart the way a glacier parts from
The hills; slowly, but with the force

Of its thousands of tons.
Ashes on the water,
Where the ghost of our union rests
Underneath the surface of our memories.

I will remember you.
Until the stars burn out, raining the
Dust of themselves like snow upon
These waters that always are moving.