On a given day
Something can come along
That steals our hearts away,
Beyond our control. It can be any
Old thing, a song that was playing
When we first made out with the
Woman who sleeps beside us
After all these years. It could
Be a child eating ice cream
Who reminds us of when
We were their age, the
Faded black and white
Photograph of when
Our parents were
Still in love with
Each other, but
This miscellany
With no home
Fades and soon
Disappears, and
Returns to those
Dark places, that
We had hidden
Them before
And

We know
That there are
Deep wells, dug in
Our hearts, where
Birds fly, calling
Us again

We touch, we think, we listen, we love

Sometimes close, can be so far away
Sometimes apart, can be closer than skin
Sometimes love, can be the reason to live
Sometimes life, can be an empty shell

We touch, we think, we listen, we love

Sometimes dreams, can be almost enough
Sometimes touch, can be just that we need
Sometimes listening, can be all that it takes
Sometimes together, can be the best of all

South of the border west of the sun,
Cluttered emptiness cannot fill the hole.
Bridges fell in anger replaced by loneliness,
Murakami makes our languishing love raw.

The reflective silence eats into my soul.
The hell in the empty hello from Haiti,
Wanting you but I am on a different plane,
Knowing needs, the threads of our tapestry.

You my missing part I have been looking for
Love expressed in my doubt of past escape.
Coming back to you the fragile love of my life,
Bringing balance as my past pain takes flight.

We know the house of cards has fallen down,
Seeking new foundations for living loving life,
Can this "best thing" open a door to our future?
Smiling eyes become the windows to our heart.

I
Know
Traces are
The sticky air
Between, hopes
Fulfilled and fears
Conquered, while
Life flows slowly
Towards an
Endless
Sea.

Stress is living life in a self-inflating  balloon
From airless to full is the excitement in life
Increases in pressure is a tension of colour
Stress filled is not stressful in this party of life
With survival a knack of avoiding sharp objects
And where excessive inflation will inevitably
Cause an instant deflation in very small pieces
Of the dreams and goals which are life today
And like Humpty in pieces these cannot
Be easily put back together again.

She gazes down on a daily sea,
Of expectant lesson hungry faces,
The teacher uses a carrot not a stick,
To prove these cast-off kids stomachs,
Will love them when they cook creatively.

Vogue-like poet on the catwalk of life,
She sees life in little things each day.
Weekend dates in the big smoke,
Will blue suit and red shoes work,
With him again, again tonight?

I feel bleaker than bleak

More empty than full
More restless than calm
More hopeless than hard
More gutless than strong
More boneless than brave
More pointless than sharp
More faceless than feared
More skinless than naked
More airless than breath
More lifeless than dead
More useless than you

I feel like crying inside.

Won’t someone just do something?

Without you……

Loneliness is a selfish word
In empty corridors and cold beds
But I have never felt so close to you
I can feel your smile soft caress closeness
Distance is a nanosecond in light speed loving
Sleepy Sunday waking wanting wishing
Sad dreams now pastoral pleasures
Desire the reality of past love
Happiness beckons hope

…with you soon

Is a pleasing proportionality
Is imprecisely harmonious
Is before and after in time
Is the friendship of lovers
Is the mirror of reflection
Is a patterned similarity
Is an agreeable balance
Is two sides of one coin
Is a dyadic relationship
Is the love of friends
Is a perfect couple
Is you and me
Is us.

She gazes down on a daily sea,
Of expectant lesson hungry faces,
The teacher uses a carrot not a stick,
To prove these cast-off kids stomachs,
Will love them when they cook creatively.

Vogue-like poet on the catwalk of life,
She sees life in little things each day.
Weekend dates in the big smoke,
Will blue suit and red shoes work,
With him again, again tonight?

She sips tea with her son in a Tunisian tent
Orange and blue scarves sun-bright in summer
Mitsubishi motors mandatory for desert trek
Sardinia is two hours and a lifetime away.

Pensive thoughts on a desert dune heaven
Life can slip through the fingers like sand
Grasping the chance to live in the moment
Arabian nights’ stories for next week’s kids.

I love you openly
But you cannot see this
Because you are looking
In the wrong direction
Just turn around now
And you will see.

I love you quietly
But you cannot hear this
Because you are listening
In the deafness of silence
Listen for our love now
And you will hear.

I love you completely
But you cannot feel this
Because we are touching
In sometimes sadness
Hold me closer now
And you will feel.

It's a wonder to me why
Those most passionate
About good and evil
Have no compunction
About the ****** of
Innocents in the pursuit
Of their goals.

&

Become more evil
Than the evil
They aim to fight.

Montana shoeshine man has ***** shoes,
Billie sings “That Ole Devil Called Love”,
The sun is shining but rain falls over me.

Occasional internet frustrates all work,
Every problem is someone else’s fault,
A Groundhog Day of daily tasks undone,
The black dog is with me in this place.

Is it me or is it them I ask myself again?

Today I cannot even die enough to cry-
Guess it’s those old Haiti Blues again.

Before was cool, after was a relief,
The “gift” delivered intact,
Is four hour operation normal?
Pain, pleasure and purpose,
Concern that the 10% rejection
Will be my kidney – only one to spare,
So far so good, after four weeks,
Thinking that my surgeon has a frown
At being called a butcher.

I was very
Close to death today,
On the road to Cochabamba.
The “too many” sad lines of crosses,
None of them planned to die.
How can you know?
How will I know?
When?
I live each day
As if it is my last,
So that,
When
I come
to the end
of the road,
Unfulfilled desires,
Will not torment me
In the next life, if there is one.

There was never any objection or obligation or any-big-thing in this,

There was never any problem or procrastination or pride in this,

There was never drama or doubt or decision in this,

Only love.


There was never any concern or confusion or conundrum in this,

There was never any plan or principle or project in this,

There was never any struggle or soul-searching or sorrow in this,

Only love.

In a moment she catches my eye,
The glance, the quiet smile for me,
I know the look, it was all it took,
For Cupid’s arrow to find it’s mark.

Sometimes after breakfast coffee,
And maybe after lunchtime snack,
And often after romantic dinner,
She looks at me and then I know.

That life is good and we are right,
And all the problems of the light,
Will be put to rest in bed tonight,
With just a look my fears take flight.

The loving look
The sensuous silk
The tingling touch
The kinetic kisses
The being beautiful
The fantastic feeling
The savoured silence
The close connection
The hammering heart
The wanting to be one
As we go to the other place.

As we wake on a winter white morning,
You are all blonde hair on a blue pillow,
Your smile is the sunshine in my day.

Our two hearts beat as one, now we
Are curling together, closer than skin,
As we wake on a winter white morning.

Too early to rise, too late for dreaming,
But just perfect for morning sleepy love,
Your smile is the sunshine in my day.

Our bodies touch and time slows down,
Perfect passion banishes a world outside,
As we wake on a winter white morning.

That flying feeling as we both let go,
The world is far below our flying high,
Your smile is the sunshine in my day.

Together no one can do us any harm, when
Night becomes day and we become one,
As we wake on a winter white morning,
Your smile is the sunshine in my day.

This girl came to my party,
And petted my tortoise,
In nineteen sixty four,
When I was eight, and
No-one noticed, not even me.

She still complains today
That she missed out on
Her jelly and ice-cream,
When she was seven, and
No one noticed, not even me.

I think when ten years later this
Beautiful blonde said yes, she
Would be mine, and is today, this
Tortoise slow was still around, and
No one noticed, not even me.

I tell our children now grown-up,
That I have found a tortoise is
The perfect way to find the girl,
Who will be yours forever, when
You are eight and she is seven.

I stand
I see
I am
I think

I should
I know
I can
I think

I sigh
I love
I will
I think

Thinking is a dangerous sport
Not risky like BASE jumping
With a mortality rate of one in sixty
More a consequential activity
Whereby one separates from
The herd and becomes visible
In a world where dull conformity
Of Daily Mail readers lascivious
Appetites are fulfilled with the
Literary ***** for the masses.

Thinking builds character and
Worse still "notions" where the
Shackles of convention are
Smashed and freedom to fly
In mind, as the body becomes
Unbound with an evolving
Revolutionary vision, which
Is a justifiable reaction to
A convention-less world.

Thinking breeds discontent
And spirited resistance that
Is essential to jump the ship and
Become a terrorist shepherd
In a sheep filled world where
Convention is a state of being and
Conviction makes for an extremists
Collaboration that is only contained
By technology which monitors
Every discordant utterance.

Flashes of lightening in darkness freeze the moment
A freight train of thunder rumbles across the night sky
I love to sleep with the girl whose love spans the miles

Your sleepy voice hello makes my heart beat faster
Distant Vienna ballet memories and Loos bar champagne
I love to wake with the girl whose cuddles chase the cold  

Lost alone in this big bed your comforting arms are absent
Together in dreams but our bodies chill with the distance
I love to be loved by the girl with the beautiful smile

I sometimes go back to my time before time
The past was over and the future was yet to begin
All moments since merged in a jumble of living
Slipping like sand through my fingers each day
Could I have known what the future would bring?
All the highs, the lows, the loves and the hates
Does it seem possible that all of this stuff
Just happened to me without reason or rhyme?
But when I look at my boys who weren’t even born
Those unforgettable ripples in the pool of my life
I know then that everything is real and worthwhile.

The time when the fire of love,
Becomes the warmth of loving,
When the electricity of touch,
Becomes the comfort of a hug,
When the pleasure of passion,
Becomes the marriage of minds,
When the frustration of routine,
Becomes the wish of escape,
When the distance of absence,
Becomes the need of closeness,
When the freedom of together,
Becomes the perfection of us.

I was fifty-three this morning,
But I feel so much older now,
Having lived a lifetime in a day.

It started like a thousand others,
Time suddenly skipped a track,
Everyone I know is dead and gone-

I didn’t even get to say goodbye.
I never knew that time was precious,
This morning was a hundred years ago.

Sometimes it’s hard to be apart

Sometimes it’s hard to be brave
Sometimes it’s hard to be cold
Sometimes it’s hard to be daring
Sometimes it’s hard to be early
Sometimes it’s hard to be friends
Sometimes it’s hard to be good
Sometimes it’s hard to be happy
Sometimes it’s hard to be in-love
Sometimes it’s hard to be just
Sometimes it’s hard to be kind
Sometimes it’s hard to be lovely
Sometimes it’s hard to be mellow
Sometimes it’s hard to be nasty
Sometimes it’s hard to be out
Sometimes it’s hard to be poor
Sometimes it’s hard to be quiet
Sometimes it’s hard to be ready
Sometimes it’s hard to be simple

Sometimes it’s hard to be together

Together the whole world will be perfect

Time stands still when you are with me

I feel your smiling voice and **** eyes

Distant closeness banished with a hug

Your laughter is the sunshine in my day.

In the darkness of this night,
Take my hand and hold it tight,
Caress me gently, touch my hair,
Just wanting you is hard to bear.

Kiss me now, our worlds collide,
Set free my passion deep inside,
Let me feel your heart beat fast,
Take away this pain at last.

Whisper soft those words of love,
Touch me, let your fingers rove,
To the place, we fly together,
Alone, together, each for other.

In my arms you are safe tonight,
I feel your breath warm and soft,
Your heart beating fast, a memory
Of passion past and my fingers that
Traced a pattern on your skin, soft,
A gentle loving touch becomes the
Afterglow of lovers’ quenched desire.

Traces of memories we leave in verse,
Which capture moments in time, that
Become invisible, once they are gone.

Traces of what we are and do and can do,
In our life from the day we are born, until
We die, the sum of our hopes and fears.

Traces are the sticky air between, hope
Fulfilled and the fears conquered, while
Life flows slowly towards an endless sea.

Regret is the consequential disappointment
That the thrilling transgressive frisson your
Online ****** therapist offered for a number.

On the web no one knows if you are a dog
But the Daily Mail knows if you are a love rat
Their readers will wallow in your misfortune.

Millions have had web fantasies exposed
Sharp onomatopoeic cheating thrills have
Become a fear of secret lives found out.

Their private diversions now public lead
Nervous executives newly emasculated
To realise life is short, shorter than desire.

I am trapped inside a message
Inside a message inside my head
I don't know how this happened
But it did because it has
People who don't understand
Just look the other way
My friends who are like me
Just accept me for who I am.

My family who I love, just
Love me as I am, but I know
I make them sad sometimes
When I keep repeating words
And questions as if I do not
Understand, but I know what
I am doing, because it makes
Me feel so comfortable.

I will keep trying to be
More like them so those
Loops that go round
Inside my head, will
Change eventually, and
I will be more like you
Although I don’t know
If that is good or bad.

It really makes me stressed
When I simply cannot be
Who I want to be, but I found
The way I can best relax
Is when I listen to my music
In tiny little pieces by playing
Half my favourite bar over
Many many times.

This sometimes breaks
My iPod, but it doesn't
Really matter because
Since I  stopped washing
Them - I have quite a few
Which I swop and swop
Sometimes they are silver
Sometimes they are black.

The night is so dark and the road ahead is a
Thin white line leading to who knows where.

Always, always away from you and home
My escape from the meaningless things
That build our love that is at the heart
Of our life and gives me the strength to
Survive in this downtown wasteland.

You might say I should be used to this
After years and years as a travelling man.

But this **** just get harder every day
A part of life apart from you, wishing
I was with you now watching from
The side-lines as our life rushes by but
I know what I know that I love you.

You are my sunrise after my night.

Blonde colours shine in my true love’s hair
Blue night solitude when we are apart
Red sunset romance of together evenings
Purple moments relaxing by the fireside
Grey eyes bright smile melt my heart
Pink glowing bodies curled on silver bed
White hot passion in my arms last night
Black coffee sips of breakfast intimacy.

The truth can make you jump for joy or weep
The truth can be riches gained or total loss
The truth can be your master or your slave
The truth can make life impossible or easy
The truth can convict you or set you free
The truth can eat you up or spit you out
The truth can be your pain or  fantasy




The truth can be the love of your life

In skin closeness two hearts beat as one

My love sleeps her soft breath on my back

Heaven is on earth when I am with my love

Perfect picture of blonde hair on blue pillow.



She smiles, my senses tingle, time stops

Shallow words of love made real with a hug

I feel the moment now is perfect happiness

Life is for love and living is for loving you.

Monday memories of together again,
When ordinary things become special,
With you beside me, sharing the moment,
A pavement espresso, a smile, a place,
A knowing look, our post-prandial siesta,
Burns bright like the unquenchable fire,
The never-ending passion, of my endless
Love, for you and those little things you do.

Roses red
Sun shining
Bed blissful
Sheets satin
Lovers laughing
Shower shared
Touch tender
*** sensational
Nightfall now
Sleep sudden
February 14th.

Every morning I swim up a vertical river,
Almost drowning, as night leans into
A clean new day, where thoughts
And plans crystallize in a foam
And spray, which isolates
Me from the world
Of people and
Places and
Problems.

I am reborn
Rejuvenated
And cleansed
Of a night that
Contaminated my
Now-clean body
With all my
Yesterdays
Erased

Running rings around thirteen hours of opera
I sit spell-bound absorbing the angry music
Suppressing an urge to re-conquer Poland
Music a direct expression of world’s essence
**** passion means Israel is Wagner-free
Tristan and Isolde unplayed before Ludwig
Love and death and passion for Mathlde
Eros and Thanathos that predate Freud
Arthurian love story interrupted by Minna
Overwhelming influence frustrates his peers
Worried that his brilliance is simply anger
That guarantees you feel undead tonight.

Trying and failing in a wasteland of work
To get the space, to think and to live in the
Moment, which we are supposed to do,
If we are to be happy in this life, instead
Of the next, which becomes more likely,
As the trying fails and the failures mount.

Nothing is important enough to let this
Happen, and giving up is not going to work,
Unless you intend to spend you eternity,
With a hell of a racket from those harps
In the clouds, which will inevitably drive,
You madder than mad for ever and ever.

Failing to fail in your wasteland of life
You get the space, to think and live in the
Moment, which we are supposed to do,
And the prospect of a hell with harps,
Is replaced with moments that multiply,
To a love of this life instead of the next.

We live
We love
We laugh

We need
We know
We want

We touch
We hope
We hold

We feel
We fly
We come

We are alive

Weary worldwide,
Week three,
Travelling,tiring.

Worried waiting,
Wasted time,
Ticking, trapped.

Wishes wait,
Want, tender,
Touching, tomorrow.

Weekend welcome,
Will tease,
Thrilling, tonight.

Wake wise,
Wonderful, tea,
Toasting, together.

We have lost so much
What if we can’t make it?

We have made so much
What if we can’t live it?

We have lived so much
What if we can’t love it?

We have loved so much
What if we can’t take it?

We have taken so much
What if we can’t give it?

We have given so much
What if we can’t lose it?

I can see your smile…
My heart beats fast, needing you with me in this exile

I can feel your arms…    
Holding me close,  I feel safe with the girl of my dreams

I can feel your body…
Responding to my touch, your kisses sweet as candy

I can feel your love…
Two hearts become one, your passion makes me feel alive

I can feel you now…  
Your love, my life, my hope and my reason to be

My
Love,
When I die,
Wear a happy face,
Even though you may be crying inside.
You were my up, my down, my going in, my coming out.
You made me often happy and sometimes sad.
You were the life of my love,
You were my home,
Coming home
To.

Grey skies, contrasting bone-white tree skeletons,
Trudging home for Christmas is an endless nightmare,
Second night hotel-less on a Heathrow bed-less floor,
The crisp white snowiness of home but a distant hope,
Media revels in this travellers’ misery, so switch off,
I think I will head home somewhat earlier next year,
This snow bound, homeward bound, hopeless man.

Wine is for laughing
Wine is for talking all night
Wine is for living life out loud
Wine is for making us beautiful
Wine is for all-night conversations
Wine is for getting together again
Wine is for ‘never again’ tomorrow
Wine is for sleeping like a baby
Wine is for telling the truth
Wine is food for love
Wine is friendship
Wine is fresh
Wine
Can
Be
The
One
Perfect
Companion
At the end of a long day