We were there when fire was harnessed
and hunted with spear and arrow
ate cooked Wooly Mammoth
finger painted cave walls.
But we were only part formed
a half remembered daydream
deep in the future of a man and a woman
as they watched their children dance around the fire.

Waking breath ghostly frozen, clang of ***-belly stove opening, cedar crackles good morning, sap sizzles, pops, melting.  Warmth finds children sleeping, humid air, mouth-breathing.  Smell of boy sweat and feet, young women ripely sweet.  

Cats purring, stirring, padding quiet down stairs, weave meowing through mom's legs.  Dented percolator burbles better days, snap of toast burned haze, molten mush bubbles burst, fade.  Birds early on the highway Paradise-seeking, time, flash-burned, fleeting. Cobalt jay mockingly complains, chickadee sings his own name, coyote wails, thin and plain.  

Children rise, sleep in their eyes, squabble over bathroom prize, eldest wins, click, locks herself in.  Hurry, hurry the bus is coming, ancient driver, annoyed and honking.  Brown-bag lunches crinkled running, feet slapping, seats squeaking, lungs hot and bursting.  Ride the dawn breaking, hearts aching for more than this, rural bliss.

Stop sign flashes caution, young lovers in the back seat, bodies in motion.  Stop, start, sway on down the highway. Engine mimics hot blood lust, accelerated diesel rush, nothing can stop us. You grab my knee - young, carefree.  Brakes sigh and hiss, sneak one last kiss. You mouth - meet me later, we'll sneak out, rush to a future we haven't got, ready or not.  

The old road at dusk, frog song accompanies us, bike wheels on the asphalt hum, forbidden moonlight run.  Feel your heartbeat on my spine, frantic drumming matching mine. Horned owl hoots, forlorn and bleak, a premonition we refuse to heed, reckless with need. In the clearing young love begins, forget-me-knots on burning skin.

if I said I like the pheromones emanating from your lips
its me trying to be geeky poet
after a geeky kiss

I knew not love before love and i was introduced.

old men walk slowly
back down the road
emerge out of a war
fought in their youth
when blood was up
and spirits high
cooled now in memories
long distant away
many only walk
as far as the edges
and stop at the cemetery gates
unable to go further
turn and return to their graves

All the sheep are shorn;
white dots in the green.

Makes you taste memories;
lamb chops with mint sauce.

All those potential meals;
grazing across the hillside.

photographs of past lives stare out from the wall
vacant moments, smiles long past
an arm around an old friend, dead years back,
picture of a saint who holds my heart in her eyes
black and white family group of three, I never met
drawings my young niece has sent in the post
and pictures of just about eclectic as can be
all break up the orange and lemon painted walls
the ones I painted five years ago, five years
these walls have held back the world from entering
kept me safe from the winter storms, and will do so again.

Chalk and flint
Beech Woods
Furniture makers
Hills rolling
Rivers and stream
All being swallowed.
London expanding
the city rules
more and more.

You can beat us to the ground, hurt us.
Ignore our screams.
Pretened that we are fine.
Because kids can't be depressed.
You can tell us how to live and feel.
Tell us our demons are not real.
But we are just other human beings.
Looking for their own indentity.
Going trough darker times.
Just younger but not untouched by pain.
Just because we are younger doesn't mean we can't be hurt.
So yes you can be ignorant.
You can tell us that we lie.
But that won't help us.
Won't change a thing.
We are the depressed teenagers.
And we can't do anything about it.
So please stop reminding us that we should be happy.
That our teens are the best times of our lifes.
Cause if depression is the best we will get,
how much must aldult life **** then?

There's a poem written inside of me
About all my heartbreaks
From all the boys before you.

There's a poem written inside of me
About all the ways
I pushed people away.

And then there's a poem about you,
Slowly developing,
While you take every brick out of my wall
While you cross the moat and walk past the dragon.

I had the companionship of a German Sheppard.
for a large swathe of my travelling.
He took it upon himself to be protective
and we were asked to leave certain establishments.
He took me to places I never would have gone
and I think I am a better person for it.
He died on the road, and I think he would approve
the place I decided to end my days in.