when someone dies, you never really feel you did it right
the life you gave,
the plans you made
the darkest, deepest nights

when someone dies you always wish the time would just go back
it sounds cliché
but that's the way
you feel when it goes black

when someone that you love is gone, you just can't make it through
a single beat
without retreat
into the pain made new

when someone that you love is gone you have to feel regret
to say you don't
or swear you won't
is just the coping lie you've set

I'll always want to bring you back
I'll always wish you here
its crazy how the mind plays tricks
after you disappeared

but worst of all you're oh so close
you haven't died, but live
I've got the power to bring you back,
but not the strength to give

lay your eyes upon me
feast them and do not fear
brush your fingertips along me
simply to get near

nothing-talk your sweetness at me
whisper by my ear
find a lovely word to make
my shyness disappear

look at me with eyes of wonder
eyes that ne'er before knew sight
like a blind man newly-healed
right at the break of  dawn's first light

let me learn to let you hold me
sink into that first embrace
deeply, like you're breathing of me
step back as you caress my face

The cumulus clouds built overhead
But were dark, and filled with rain,
They brought to the sky a sense of dread
Of the storm to come, and pain,
The wind picked up in the barley fields
And the sea beat in to the shore,
‘If you don’t go out and anchor the boat
It will land on the rocks, for sure.’

I didn’t want to go out that day
But my father said I must,
All that my brother did was play
So I thought it so unjust.
‘Why is it always me,’ I said,
‘When Fred’s as handy as I,
He only goes when the weather’s calm
With not a cloud in the sky.’

It made no odds so I had to go,
They didn’t give me a choice,
I was the child of the family,
The one with the weakest voice.
I took the skip and I rowed on out
Where the Huntsman strained its chain,
With the breakers crashing across the prow
On top of the driving rain.

I seized the rope and clambered aboard
Then tied the skip to a post,
It was only held by a slender cord
To the Huntsman, as its host.
I went for the starboard anchor then
And slipped it into the sea,
That would give it a second hold, I thought,
But in truth, there should be three.

The waves were crashing across the deck
And the Huntsman wheeled around,
Now side-on to the waves it heeled
With a rasping, creaking sound,
If only Fred hadn’t lost the anchor
Chained up close to the bow,
I would be able to hold the swing
But it wasn’t likely now.

The swell was something tremendous and
The rain came down like sleet,
What with the sway and the decks awash
It was hard to keep my feet.
Slowly the boat had begun to drift and
Drag its chains to the shore,
Down in a trough, and then the lift
As the swell built up once more.

Making my way to the cabin door
I locked myself inside,
Then started the Perkins diesel and
Prepared to go for a ride,
I thought that if I could turn the bow
And point it out to sea,
We might be able to ride it out
The boat, brute force, and me.

I didn’t know that my brother Fred
Had borrowed somebody’s skiff,
And now was heading on out to help,
My father had said ,’What if?’
The diesel roared into life and tugged
The anchors in its wake,
But wouldn’t respond to the rudder
I had made my first mistake.

Borne on the swell, the Huntsman roared
And headed in to land,
Nothing I did would turn the bow
Though I had the wheel in hand,
I’ll never live down the Huntsman’s loss
Or forget that awful sound,
That terrible scream like a nightmare dream
As I ran my brother down.

David Lewis Paget

Isn't it a strange thing when the sun begins to set?
Like some too-romantic field of dreams that haven't happened yet?

How entrancing when the sun goes down and life just turns to gold
Lying gilded there before my face
--lies blatantly and to my face, just like the myths of old

And that sliver of a second that looks magical to most
To most a golden royal ball, but it doesn't have a host

See, that moment is just sacred, in an awful sort of way
Where the holy and the evil darks have a common note to play

During every other time of day, the light and dark are two
During every other song they play, they play a different tune

During sunset everything deceives itself into a common hue
The vivid reds and blues of midday,
Hidden behind this yellowy lens into a hazy view

And even when the darkness sets, it has two separate parts
One with elegance and beauty, one a cloak for acts of all ****** hearts

But in this moment the angel and the devil do the same
To pull your soul into your mind, your body and your brain

At this time you feel every good you've never done
And all the sickest thoughts you've known? You re-feel every one

The holy self of all goodwill within you breaks
for everything it's missed

While paralyzed in a lustful glow
Remembering every sultry sin you've kissed

For the angel, it's to guilt you,
On the wings of heaven's dove

While the devil tries to win you back
And reclaim all your love

But for me, it's just like the half-second you get
To both step off of the chair, and suddenly regret

he told her it was just for them
between just he and she
but as soon as her hands
were ******* in bands
he brought in the rest of the we

little spirits, tender fire
a lock of human hair
she took a sip before the whip
dark presence in the air

the room was tiny and dimly lit
and the altar looked centuries from new
but how many demons within it did fit
though the bodies were up to only a few

but strangely the room began to expand
with the waxing volume of the living vapors
and a cackle arose from her smoldered left hand
now she knew the intent of her devilish neighbors

and she twirled like a dancer
a flame-thrower, flame-breather
the hot light in her eyes
looked for help or compassion

but her seeking proved in vain
for she hadn't seen either
and her body took up the form
of the demon's last ration

Find all my sins
And spread them thin
Over all of your perfection

My wrongs on your skin
Like a veil so thin
'Cause your body is my resurrection

Of everything I never had
I only dreamt of you
A wind to push me on in life
Fresh air
Just a breath, to carry me through

Of all the wants I've ever had
The only need was you
Come sun, come rain
Come joy or pain
There were open arms to always run to

I kept you in that bubbled hope
That sphere of glass and air
For everything that blew away
One dream stayed anchored there

Thank you for being just enough
To keep me feeling real
For being that one and truest love
When I was sure I wouldn't heal

You were just enough for quite some time
Until I gave you my soul
Then the glass  orb imploded
And my insides exploded
And I'd finished with digging my hole

BECOMING THE MAN MY FATHER ALWAYS WAS
(for Brian D)

Each night
I would follow you

through the rituals
of what you had to do

being Daddy.

I wanted to be Daddy too.

Mimicking your gait
becoming an exact

copy
of you

trailing along
in your footsteps

like a lone seagull
following in the wake

of some great ship
of state

watching the water
burn

'til it was all bubbles

then letting it
calm down

before filling my mother's
hot water bottle

carrying it to her side
like a lover's gift.

I was
your little shadow.  

She'd always smile:
"Thank you Danny! "

"That's alright love"
was always the answer.

These the ritualistic words
in the hot water bottle ceremony.

Then he'd teach the clock
to ****

adjusting it with his hands
and wind up Time

so that it spit tick & tocks
all through the night

then go lock doors
turn keys
draw bolts.

"That's it, son!"

I used to imagine
being you

and now I am
my own man

winding up Time

bringing my missus
the gift of a hot water bottle

(the gift of me)  

both equally
heart warming.

'Thank you Donall! '
she always smiles.

'That's all right love! '
I always answer.

Me the man
I am

because of you.