Listen to him
Being blunt about it
As only the truly sensitive can be
Throwing his words down
Just like bricks
Just like ****
And as only the truly sensitive
Sometimes don’t see
The harder
The further
He throws them
The more they’ll break
And the more they’ll stick

It’s a problem for the dead
The feeling that it’s all still there
It’s a trait that they
And some of the living
Can
Unknowingly
Sometimes share
To make the matter worse
They’re pushed towards the brightest of bright lights
By well-wishers armed with bells, books and candles
I often feel
It’s more than many of the un-quiet departed
Should be expected
Reasonably
To handle
Perhaps it would be better to take them quietly to one side
Just explain
Don’t you remember?
It all ended
It’s over
The heart gave up
You died



With that said
Things can be as they were intended
No more hanging around with shadows
Rattling knobs on cellar doors
Being the prickle on the skin of loved ones
Enough of being the cold spot
In the empty hall
Give it up
Let it go
Slip away
Then we can all get some sleep
Instead of lying rigid in the dark
Eyes wide
Waiting for the obligatory midnight moan
But more importantly
There’ll be no more unwanted
Nocturnal rearranging of the furniture
Because
More than anything else belonging to the living
Their tables and chairs
Should always be left well alone

Scientists have discovered
The possibility
That giant river turtles might talk to each other
This they do, so they say
Whilst rearing young
Research over long periods of time
In depth studies
Have shown
Parental bonds and the tightness of community
A complexity in reptiles
Not previously known

Two streets away
Two months ago
An old woman was found dead
In her small sparse living room
Research over a long period of time
Has found that she had been dead for while
That she died on her own
An in depth study
Found that she might once have had a daughter
No one really knows
Severed bonds, and the lightness of community
A complexity in people
Previously shown

Lamp post light
Wreathed in their winter breath
Their silver tinged by sodium
Silent pads worn down
By concrete and brick
Laid over old earth
While dormant in sleep it waits
Eyes refracted
The light of late car
Passing

Through city scape in midnight hour
Ghosts of the past
Prowl alleyways
With long slow lope
Hunt under spectral moon
And haunt the sleep of the wolves
Who’ve been tamed

Here he comes lately
So much on his plate
All **** and wind
Or a victim of fate?
No matter which
Always buys in too late
Picking up on your vibes
For mistakes he can make

Here he comes lately
You tell me which
Play for keeps cos it’s special?
And the rest we can ditch?
Brought out his beast
To waste time on the *****
Lost all of his nines
Without saving a stitch

Here he comes lately
At the end of his road
It would come to no good
He remembers being told
Still
If he don’t push his luck
Then he might as well fold
It’s never that good
To feel cold
Makes you old

Here he comes lately
I’ll tell you what
Will never replace all the things that he's got
Chose the wrong types
Regardless of cost
Then discovered that life
Makes you something
Or lost

Stop talking to me about love
As if no one else has ever found it
Stop boasting about your angels wings
And how they lift you higher than the Sun
When I know only wax, old rope and the memory of flight
Just tumble down into the dark blue and be done
Enough of your heart
Lighter than air
When mine is a magnet
Pulled by the Earth’s core
Spare me your sweet breath
While I wait for others to exhale

Summer bleeds its last
In a shower of red and gold
Beneath the billow
Of a sailcloth sky

Flames in the dark
Reach for the distant stars
And the early light
Wears a mantle of frost

One season
Gives to another
The days
That never really know
What weather to wear