damp air
from rain before
long hair
in the breezy shore
looking out
the ocean near
looking back
shedding tears
moving on
something new
walking on
getting through

maybe you were just a lesson I needed learning
time's child, grown too soon
but then, time rushes for no man
so perhaps you only lasted as long as you were meant to.

maybe you were a gift of hope
in a moment when I needed it most
someone to cling to, someone to treasure
but that hope wilted when the sun wouldn't shine.

maybe you were a fabrication of memories
gathered and sewn together carefully
a quilt of the past, too old-fashioned for the present
and after a while I couldn't keep you from unraveling.

maybe you were a daydream
floating around in my head, quiet and breathless
a perfect fantasy I'd escape to when I was lonely
but reality would always find its way back to me.

and maybe you were just you
the you I always forgot, or tried to forget
the you who would never return my feelings
but I risked loving you anyway.

She took these idle hands of mind
and with them made something beautiful.

I am my own disaster,
A wreckless fiend for mischief.
My life, the colour of chaos,
Of happiness, my own thief

I rob myself of satisfaction,
I get thrill from my own despair.
Stubborn to contentment,
Never settling for what is there.

I govern my own tormented land.
Though foolish I accept one thing -
I am my own worst enemy and
I never see me coming

Asked how old he was,
the boy in the new kimono
stretched out all five fingers.

This moth saw brightness
in a woman's chamber--
burnt to a crisp.

So they bought you
And kept you in a
Very good home
Cental heating
TV
A deep freeze
A very good home-
No one to take you
For that lovely long run-
But otherwise
'A very good home'
They fed you Pal and Chun
But not that lovely long run,
Until, mad with energy and boredom
You escaped- and ran and ran and ran
Under a car.
Today they will cry for you-
Tomorrow they will but another dog.

Somewhere at some time
They committed themselves to me
And so, I was!
Small, but I WAS!
Tiny, in shape
Lusting to live
I hung in my pulsing cave.
Soon they knew of me
My mother --my father.
I had no say in my being
I lived on trust
And love
Tho' I couldn't think
Each part of me was saying
A silent 'Wait for me
I will bring you love!'
I was taken
Blind, naked, defenseless
By the hand of one
Whose good name
Was graven on a brass plate
in Wimpole Street,
and dropped on the sterile floor
of a foot operated plastic waste
bucket.
There was no Queens Counsel
To take my brief.
The cot I might have warmed
Stood in Harrod's shop window.
When my passing was told
My father smiled.
No grief filled my empty space.
My death was celebrated
With tickets to see Danny la Rue
Who was pretending to be a woman
Like my mother was.

I

Throughout the afternoon I watched them there,
Snow-fairies falling, falling from the sky,
Whirling fantastic in the misty air,
Contending fierce for space supremacy.
And they flew down a mightier force at night,
As though in heaven there was revolt and riot,
And they, frail things had taken panic flight
Down to the calm earth seeking peace and quiet.
I went to bed and rose at early dawn
To see them huddled together in a heap,
Each merged into the other upon the lawn,
Worn out by the sharp struggle, fast asleep.
The sun shone brightly on them half the day,
By night they stealthily had stol'n away.


II

And suddenly my thoughts then turned to you
Who came to me upon a winter's night,
When snow-sprites round my attic window flew,
Your hair disheveled, eyes aglow with light.
My heart was like the weather when you came,
The wanton winds were blowing loud and long;
But you, with joy and passion all aflame,
You danced and sang a lilting summer song.
I made room for you in my little bed,
Took covers from the closet fresh and warm,
A downful pillow for your scented head,
And lay down with you resting in my arm.
You went with Dawn. You left me ere the day,
The lonely actor of a dreamy play.