next to of course god america i
love you land of the free and so forth oh
say can you see by the dawn's early my
country no longer wants to go
on united but still divided into states
of disbelief in every colour not white or tanned
just sons deserve your glorious name but wait
by law by lord by list by land
why talk of brain when she could look prett-
ier than these bragadocius men
who rushed without thought to the race to grab
the prize that meant so much but not to them
who wore the voice of hate just cause it fit?

She spoke. And hid away her old now torn hijab.

Why do I always feel worst on the best days?

There are short moments,
When the whole world gets caught inside a bubble,
Made of the brightest gold.

Launching fireworks instead of missiles,
Taking shots with cameras not guns,
Giving gifts not bombs.

For a few days we forget how to hate,
Relearn love,
Live without fear for at least a while.

Dancing and cheering,
Laughing and singing,
Decorating and Playing.

Replace the dodging and screaming,
The crying and pleading,
The hiding and running.

Inside that bubble,
All is good,
For as long as we can celebrate,
We can be kind.

The petals are brown,
The leaves shredded into blades,
But beneath alive.

He tries to understand me,
But in his outdated mind,
Just black and white, binary,
No in between to find,
He claims to be open but in reality,
Closed to all but what he's always believed.

or

He cannot accept who I am,
And disgust at all I said,
"Change or I won't give a ****,
If you're alive or dead."
He'd sooner cut me off than deal with the unknown,
Of his son who's both a boy and girl soon to be disowned.

Which is worse?

Eyes unable to pierce the night,
The darkness surrounds,
As even the comfort of colourless sight,
Is nowhere to be found.

Though the warmth of the sun can still be felt,
Its radiance is hidden,
As though icicles and snow can still melt,
The light is forbidden.

The stars in the sky are invisible now,
Unseen by all,
Nobody questions why or how,
As the entire galaxy falls.

When light is gone, we still remain,
Us with black hearts,
As we are required for the rotten mainframe,
Of darkness' brand new start.

If my life were a painting,
It would be of the night.
Of rain on pavements,
Reflecting street lights.
And sat on a bench,
shadowed and dark,
Would be a boy in a coat,
Too big and covered in marks.

But life isn't painting,
But a series of stills,
And if you wind the reel forward,
The boy grows, the coat he fills.
And now, another figure joins him,
Pulls him off the bench, to his feet,
And now, they start dancing,
In each other's arms, down the street.

Drenched in rain,
He takes off his coat,
Wraps it around her,
And pulls out a ring and a note.
With a tear of joy, she nods,
With a nervous laugh, he stands,
The sun starts to rise,
As they hold each other's hands.

Then, just a frame or two on,
A small figure runs up to the pair,
And the boy - now a man,
Lifts the child in the air.
Smiling, he holds his wife and child close,
And wipes the rain from their faces,
As the sun is overhead,
And light shines onto their embraces.

And so a new painting forms,
Brighter, now the sun's above,
And the coat around her shoulders,
Reminds her of his love.

Wait!

Wait!

Wait just one more,
Minute you don't have,
To understand yourself,
Takes far too much,
Effort you can't give,
It isn't worth it.

Stop!

Stop!

Stop and understand the,
Dark that comforts you,
Cannot keep you safer than,
Light you hate,
For it always leads to,
Revealing too much.

Please!

Please!

Please listen to,
A pointless voice,
Calling to you from somewhere,
Far away from here,
Where light doesn't burn,
Your frail skin.

No!

No!

No more life to lose,
When your whole existence is doomed,
To drown in it's own blood,
Despite the desperate cries,
Of dead and dying,
To stay away.

Even they reject you.

The old me in chains,
Screaming, ready to be killed,
The new me refuses.

"Nothing, nothing's wrong,"
I wave concern away,
While I see their faces in greyscale.

"I'm fine, just stop worrying,"
I mutter, to them?
Or to myself, to persuade my own mind?

"It's OK, honestly,"
I lie to all,
While the world closes in around my head.

"Leave me alone, it's nothing,"
I scream as my legs give way,
They gather, I try to hide from their curious eyes.

"Nothing, nothing's wrong,"
I whisper on the ground,
Curling up to shield my ears from the echoes of confusion.

"Everything's going to be fine,"
I tell myself, forceful now,
I bat away the doubt that invades my mind.

But still there is no light,
I am not blind, but I can't see,
I am not angry, but rage builds,
Finally I snap,
A fist,
Contact,
"Stop asking."

I had a nightmare last night,
Filled with death and fear,
With danger and falling,
Only for a message to appear.

And suddenly I'm in her room,
Panicked and afraid,
Her room is empty and bare,
Apart from a short poem taped to the wall,
To my Mum who will find I don't live here any more,
The next two lines unclear in my mind,
But the final line stands out bold,
I've found hope with you my love.

Underneath a hasty drawing,
Of animals in the wild,
And of one lone wildebeest,
Daring to trust,
In the nature of a falling elephant,
To keep her from falling herself.
But I'm not sure the elephant was strong enough.

I know that sounds strange,
But this was a dream after all,
Even so I'm worried my love,
So if you see this please respond,
And tell me you haven't left home,
And you're not leading your life alone,
Because only my words can reach you from here,
And I'm afraid that when finally I'm near,
You'll have disappeared.

The old me afraid,
And the girl who knew us both,
It's her who chooses.

Awake now,
Though it's not quite morning,
I won't sleep again,
The dark is too much for me.

I
Can
Keep
On
Recovering

I
Can't
Stop
My
Suffering

But you can, my love,
I know you're still here now I've returned

The last pair of eyes,
Reflect my heavy heart,
As the last, sorry words,
Crush my grateful smile.

The final one who cares,
Leaves my life again.

I return to join The Coldest.

The end of gentle words,
To calm my panicked mind,
The end of just in time,
To stop me doing the worst.

The only saving grace,
Has nothing left to give.

I return to join The Coldest.

Another one has gone,
Away from my unrest,
Another loss is blamed on me,
Despite my desperate attempts.

With no reason to try,
I pursued and missed my goal.

I return to join The Coldest,
But a new flame has been lit.

If music is love expressed, then how will my song play?
Will each phrase be smooth with content or broken by loss?
Will the notes be frantic and panicked, like my searching heart once was?
Or steady and certain, as my head is now?
Will  the hands on the keys be shaking and cold?
Or free from fear and dancing in confidence?
How many voices will join the ensemble?
And for fleeting moments or prolonged duets?
Will I keep moving forward with driving rhythms?
Or pull everything back and take a more leisurely pace?  
Maybe there will be a turning point, when dark becomes light, or when shadows grow stronger still.
Or perhaps a gentle fade, as each perfect harmony wears away at my soul.
Whether the music rises or falls does not concern me, however.
For the beauty of music is not in the highest note or the hardest bar.
It is in the reason behind every dot on the page.
And In the end there is no point in music for the sake of music, just as there is little point in love for the sake of romance.
I know there will be moments of unsure dissonance and outright clashes that were never meant to be.
But I'm hopeful, that in the same way as in music, eventually all will be resolved.
So I hope not for drama, but an unforced and natural conclusion:

**A perfect cadence.