The world turns grainy
Like old film
And the only lights are the streets below
And the moon
All sense of balance falls away
As I submerge myself
In the expanse of darkness above my head
A falling angel paints a streak as she lands
A smile and a gasp break out
The heavens are raining beauty on us tonight
And we gaze on with eager eyes.

Turning of shadows,
By mechanical means,
Serrated edges,
Cogs, screws and strings,
Form fractals of unknown symmetry,
On eternally ancient masonry.

A screeching, a scratching,
Of claws on walls,
Of screams to escape,
Grinding of brutal doors,
Revealing boiling myth-born beasts,
Commencing destructive ritual,
Malevolent black-heart spiritual.

The voices scream,
Chaos reigns,
Angelic faith initiates,
Falling clockwork teeth,
Carving scars from perfect wings.

Broken promises,
Shouting in corridors,
A mess of jumbled noise,
And disappointment,

Deep jealousy,
And anger.
Clenched fists;
Nails screaming in my palms.
Digging through,

Breaking skin,
And releasing the sweet,
Simmering copper-tinged taste,
Of pain.

Sand brushed frames,
A memory distorted,
By over-exposure, poor lighting and blur.

A laugh captured between breaths,
The light in those eyes,
A reflection of a lens.

A moment I'd forgotten,
But lives on in fading ink
Losing its shine with time.

As we climbed
The hills behind unrolled themselves
And laid themselves out in the sun
To bask and beautify
The cascading brightness
As it tumbled down mountainsides
Into the lake
Skipping like a flat stone
And shimmering with each bounce
We watched as horizons became endless
As haze dissipated
To reveal another distance
Beyond the limits of our eyes
Marked only by the shadows of peaks
We couldn't quite see

In her eyes,
I see molten desire,
A dream held,
To fly,
Further,
And weave,
Stories beyond compare,
Held in that,
Perfectly intricate mind.

Drops drum against my window,
And trickle onto the page,
They long for my attention,
For me to put grey skies,
Fine mist and moody tears,
Into yet another poem.

But who am I to argue?
The gods are drumming on my window,
They're asking me to notice,
And I have,
So I must,
As down the valley summer flowers,
Are battered by the sky,
Force-fed vital water,
In bursts and steady onslaughts,
Until the ground can take no more,
And the Earth cries out:
*Stop

Shared celebration,
National pride,
A victory won on out behalf.
Before our hope had died.

A moment together,
With no real meaning,
But how much we cared,
How long we'd been dreaming.

But now it seems,
That tune is so rare,
No longer a reason,
To throw hands in the air.

But still we believe,
That one day we will,
Be singing those words,
And reliving that thrill.

Professional?
Never.
There is no order to this
Organisation built on random
Ideas and words
That came to our heads one Thursday.
But now it has become
A messy reality
With all the inconveniences
That the real world brings
And all the stupid,
Silly moments
We harness.

Here we are, all drowned in the unimportant things,
Sat around, lazy, sipping on drinks and waiting.
Laughter and smiles around, though there's no point to it,
Or because there's no point to it,
And not one wants it to end.

As I tap out the rhythm of another song I've never heard,
My gaze drifts from face to face,
All bright (though one is sleeping) and no worries taking over.
Tonight is not about me nor any one of us,
So we all share a while, a meal and a game.

We made it through again,
It was tough this time around,
Trials, barriers, disappointments,
Sadness, loss and doubts,
But we mark this day - an arbitrary date -
To remind ourselves, that the past,
Can go to bed,
And the future charges faster,
And fills our hearts instead.

Slowly approaching,
Each second ticks,
S l o w l y
Each minute passes in its own time,
Decided by the inverse of my desires,
With unwanted precision,
The days extend,
Stretched by time itself,
Or my perception thereof,
Beyond a predetermined,
Tensile strength of concepts,
Ripping through all,
Our shattered principles,
In slow motion,
But instantly,
Crushed,
And,
Lost.
.
.
.
Time
Takes
Too
Long
.
.
.
.
­Time
Waits
Too
Long
.
.
.
.
.
Only
One
Time
Matters
.
.
.
.
.
.
*­Now

I stand here
As if I've been here ten thousand times
As if these trodden pathways were laid on my footsteps
And the lines of trees make an imprint on my retina
As if they fill a gap that was printed in my eyes
When they first formed
And the branches turn the afternoon to dusk
Silently drawing the time from the air
And using it to paint a patchwork
Of deepening green above my head.

Every glance I see as a scan
An examination probing for my weak points
Looking to expose my secrets
And reveal the things I hide

I know, of course, most care little
If at all,
Of the width of my shoulders
And the line of my neck

And yet I find myself afraid
That someone may see through me
Notice me in the crowd
And find in the folds of my dress
A reason to hate me.

My life changed in less than a year
Yet I fear I will not
That I will be forever nervous
Forever panic at the key moments
But so many say they were the same
And they changed
And learned to be calm
And seize the day
Rather than clench their fists around air

In the darkness, colours create themselves,
Shadows become vibrant of their own accord,
Reflections shine like stars and
Stars swirl into streams of light.
The slow rustle of branches in dull wind
Becomes strokes of a brush, painting in front of me
An imagined beauty
Entwined with reality but
Not real in itself so much as waiting to be real
Longing to burst forth and dazzle my foolish eyes
But here I see a preview
A hint of some artist's dream
A whisper of captured thought in light and pigment
Though I know the street is black and the sky is black
And the houses are grey
And the grass is brown
Why couldn't they be gold? Or yellow? Or blue?
Why shouldn't they glow like fire licking at the
Edges of my shoes?
Dark remains dark only
For the minds which refuse to paint themselves.

Speckled light hides me,
For a while,
I am alone,
With my friends,
Only those who want me,
Only those who care,
Only those who accept who I am,
Though the ground cools as the sun sets,
Still I'll lie here,
And dream of a better time,
When I don't have to be alone,
To be happy,
And I don't,
I have my friends,
But I still have to escape,
From my family.

Why ask?
Why do we need to know?
Does it really matter?
We always seem to be asking,
Inquiring, Inspecting,
But to what end?
For truth?

If we want truth,
Questions will only take us so far.
To find truth you first need to lose lies.
So **** stereotypes, **** preconceptions,
Stop believing everything you're told,
And ask your own questions,
Form your own opinions,
Form your own self,
Form your own life,
And respect everyone else's

On a broken leather sofa
By the wall of a music hall
Trying not to be recognised
But failing.

On a dusty old sofa
Relaxed at a friend's gig
Given up on staying secret
Because I was failing.

On a simple brown sofa
Holding hands at a three band show
Her touch comforts, I want to say
But I keep failing.

On a tired too-low sofa
Too-loud music vibrates the floor
My head on her shoulder, wishing to tell her
But failing.

On an unfamiliar sofa
Feeling at home as music blares
Unashamed to be myself with her
Not failing
For once
I am not afraid
With her.

I'm not afraid,
To step out of the shade,
And be myself.

I don't wanna hide,
What is inside,
My head.

But now I find,
My mind,
Is on the outside,
And in my sky,
Birds fly,
For the first time.

I'm coming out of my shell,
I'm coming out of this hell,
One step at a time,
I'm finding reason and rhyme.

From running through trees,
And chasing the breeze,
To piercing the dark,
With an honest open heart.

The clouds are purer white, and spread across the sky,
The sun can breathe a gentle hush of hope into my eye -
A simple hint that this
may be more than just a glimpse,
That I may see the spring and summer again before I die.

But when the days are bright, I feel worse come the night,
When the sun has left me all alone to trust my straining sight.
The shadows in my room,
The closing sense of doom,
I have no spirit left to fight and no way left to keep the light.

So though the air is pure, and birds are singing for
the end of winter, start of spring, there's no way to be sure,
That I will make it through
to see another June,
Or that I will not end my evening by bleeding on the floor.

So the new year begins,
Why should it be any different?
Nothing really changed beyond the smoke in the air
from all the fireworks just like every year,
and that will soon drift away.
Does it really mean all that much?
The broken resolutions simply remind
us of our temptations.
But maybe it could be better, I think to myself.
Optimism seems useless but in the end
it is better than giving up hope,
and better is what I want to be.

Snapping across,
My window,
Cold bites of clouds,
The teeth of gales,
Strike the glass.

Screaming against,
My window,
Howls of the air,
Frozen by winter,
Rushing inside.

Pounding at,
My window,
The fist of broken limbs,
From war-torn ancient,
Giants of bark.

But the thin pane,
Protects me and,
Keeps
me
sane

Dear God, mother and father,
You created every part of me, blessed me with a soul,
Filled my heart with love, the world with colour,
Gave me freedom to make my own way.

Mother, I do not understand why I was forged within this body,
Why a girl would be placed within this shell,
But you have made me unique
And allowed me to feel true liberty.

Mother, you surrounded me with love,
With people who accept me as your daughter.
Thank you for them, and support them,
As they try to understand.

I am sorry, Father, for the times I did not trust,
When I believed my being was a punishment,
For when I failed to see your light,
And saw only shadows instead.

Thank you, Father, that you were always there,
And your hand kept me from falling too far.

Keep me safe from those who would harm me with words,
Let their hatred be drowned out by love,
Protect me from those who would hurt me,
Let their anger be calmed.

Thank you, Father, that I know I am safe here,
Please stay close to people like me who aren't safe,
And give them a place, somewhere to escape,
Somewhere to live without fear.

Mother, I pray for the future of this world,
When irrational hatred has faded away,
But for those already cut down by hate,
Bring comfort to their families and all who stand with them.

Mother, I ask that their legacy be one of change,
That their deaths be the last, so that eventually,
We will have no need of mourning.

Bring understanding,
Bring compassion,
Bring empathy,
Bring change,
In the hearts of those who judge without reason.

Mother, your love has no limits,
It reaches beyond all earthly barriers,
Past these walls we build to separate.

Each of us is equal and beautiful in your eyes,
So help us to see the beauty in others,
And in ourselves,
Guide us, Lord, to a world where all stand together in love.

Thank you Lord, my mother and father.

Amen

A gentle haze
Trembling through branches
Trickling down with auburn leaves
And speckling the earth
With a lazy yellow
Piercing streams on the ground
Of tiring fire
Warming my blurring eyes

In an instant this space grows walls,
And their eyes fade from sight,
And the floor is stained
With the blood and memories of friends
I could have known.
And echoes of their voices,
Living in the wood.
And every imagined moment
We spent together
Becomes a last farewell.

I created a world with my hand,
I built cities,
I grew people,
I gave hope,
I spread happiness,
I cultured love,
Then,
I got bored,
I killed,
I crushed dreams,
I severed bonds,
I inflicted pain,
I ruined lives,
But I loved every second.

Leaves flicker like static in the gasping summer sun,
The clouds are getting *****,
Bringing with them howls and hail,
But only a warning - for now - of months ahead,
For the leaves are still green,
The warmth just remains,
Clinging onto brighter times, the seasons frozen in place,
And soon out will come coats,
And with them hugs extend,
And hands linger in each other's,
For just a little longer,
These months ahead force us together,
Keep each other from the harsh chill,
As the elements become our elements,
Our fellows become our friends

Take me away from,
The branches which beg only
For the hug of rope.

Take me away from,
Empty bus stops too late for,
A desperate escape.

Take me away from,
Tiring roads and fading lights,
Hold no hint of hope.

Take me away from,
Dark streets yet not dark enough,
To match my self-hate.

A whisper runs down my cheek
The touch of a single breath
A shimmering trail of pain it leaves
Upon my weary flesh.

A story falls from my cheek
Of fear and loss and empty cries
Its language is jumbled, its voice is weak
But tells still of evil and lies.

An ending fell to the floor from my cheek
Soaked in to my foundation
Faded now, no one hears it speak
Of my heart's lonely starvation.

In my grieving,
The world lost hope.

In my lying,
The world ran scared.

In my stillness,
The world moved on.

In my hiding,
The world forgot me.

In my smiling,
No one was left.

We've been told to reach
And to cry out for the stars -
They remain silent.

Out into the dark
Keep clutching at empty space
And scrabbling for light

Now we stare in awe
Marveling at specks of dust
That met in the black

A whisper,
When I rest in your arms.
A thank you,
As we sway to some far-flung,
Dream of a song.
A promise,
As you tightened your hold,
And as you did I felt,
Safety,
All fear, all tension,
Blurred from focus,
Until they were no more,
Than background.

A rush, panic
nothing calm or sure
as if we hadn't done this ten,
twenty, thirty times before and
now a prop's missing
a line's dropped
but no-one let on,
the show musn't stop
for our touch-ups of makeup to
make us look worn
a fake limp - a real one,
a tired shirt torn,
coins on the table,
ribbon in my hair,
waistcoat, tie, jacket and
a deadly stare - there's
no time to wallow
in success or mistake
the stage is a world
and we only get one take.

When I look to the sky I see clouds not blue,
but I could have sworn the sun was shining when I was looking at you,
and when I listened to your voice,
I heard the words of a new verse
of a new song of a new world,
and from the edge of your tongue
the purest tone would burst,
and I'd be left deaf to all but your call,
your soul's pulse crying out as I fall
in love with a single note with no fear,
no tears nor hate could come near,
while that voice cries in music,
beautiful screams that mean,
more than meaning.

Begging, urging,
Closer, closer still,
Mornings, days, nights,
Just more time to ****,
Longing, pleading,
Another second filled,
Laughing, crying, both
Emotions knocked and spilled,
Falling, falling,
Waiting, waiting 'till,
Boredom over tiring,
Becomes my bedtime pill.

Fragile wings
Frantic wings
Beating faster than eyes can
Track across the sky
On summer air
Summer currents a prelude
To summer storms
That batter the flight
And bruise the journey
And fill the sky with darkness
And drive them into hiding
But those wings find a way home
And a way out
To the light
And in the wake
Help flowers grow.

My heart's begging to be broken,
For some love-tangled tragedy,
To rip me to shreds,
And for maybe an hour,
I want to care about nothing else.

I was longing for someone,
So I wrote her story in my head,
And songs on my guitar,
For a while she was my whole life,
But even she turned away.

And maybe that's what I wanted,
To feel the full cycle,
All the way from bliss to utter sorrow,
For it seems no part exists,
Without another.

Endings are defined, precise in their nature,
They are clear points of finality,
Which do not change.
Endings force us to move on, as they do not move at all,
Impassable, but necessary if we wish to reach our goals.

Beginnings however, are out of focus photos,
Showing the sun rising on new days,
They are the uncertain dawning.
Their colours merge together in a process, not a moment,
The slow opening of a door letting in crimson light.

Is the future crimson?
It's hard to say,
But it seems to me its colour,
Is more of an array.

I scratch at my skin,
It screams,
For more,
More!
It begs to bleed,
The blade is resting,
The corner pressing gently,
Not quite breaking through.

And then the drops fall,
Glistening on my bare arm,
Gently beading and running,
Tracing my veins,
With a shimmering trail to my wrist,
Where my frail bones divert their path,
To fall again,
And soak into the floor.

But mercifully,
The stain on the carpet is not red,
Tears not blood where shed.

In discovering the subtleties,
Of my collected thoughts,
I have caught,
Hold of myself.
But,
To your shallow understanding,
My choice defied fate,
I resigned to hate.
But,
How can you know the mind,
Which lies behind,
My closed eyes?

In my sleep beneath broken stars,
You examine the body of a boy,
Who fell, no, leaped from joy,
To find himself.
But,
To your shallow understanding,
There's no reason to guide,
My self divide.
But,
How can you know the mind,
Which lies behind,
My closed eyes?

In my distorted escape from normal,
I released my life,
Stung by words' knife,
To be myself.
But,
To your shallow understanding,
There's no more to me,
Than: white, male, fifteen.
But,
How can you know the mind,
Which lies behind,
My closed eyes?

How to describe the way the sun filters through leaves?
How it ripples like waves,
Like a dance of shades of green,
The patches of dark and light seep onto the
Cream-coloured page of this notebook,
And a perfect negative of sprawling branches,
Rests upon these words.