pookie: Favorites

Nov 2013 pookie

A Mareship

Our teeth clashed –
A clunking omen?
Tipsy fingers strolling.

“I think you might be a genius.”
“Shh.”
Onto backs, rolling.

Something asked,
Can’t disobey it.
Dreaming mouth delays it.

“I love you.”
“Shh.”
No, I’ll say it, I’ll say it.

Nov 2013 pookie

coffins

Nov 2013 pookie

A Mareship

coffins

An old life
In a black box,
My only message when
The plane goes down.

Leave it untouched and embedded,
Don't find it,
Don’t peel the paint,
Don’t listen.

Don’t open coffins.

Nov 2013 pookie

travel

Nov 2013 pookie

A Mareship

travel

Mutual ******* in Madrid,
Athens in the winter tans me red,
Paris lamps, romantic power grid,
Venice swishes, watching me give head.

Caribbean wave locks me to the sand,
Fresh water fish Frenchly kiss my hair,
Land’s End extends a silver hand,
And all the angels know that I am there.

prompted over on wordypressy

Oct 2013 pookie

Untitled

Oct 2013 pookie

A Mareship

Untitled

Snatching at the hours,
I point my feet
Like a clock at twelve
And imagine hands.

I’d like to call you,
I’d like to tell you
That I’m thinking about
Walking to the countryside.
I’d like to tell you
That this highness
Doesn’t feel royal,
And that I can’t stop
Thinking
Of beheaded ancestors
And bolt-headed cattle,
Loveable tortures,
Millions of wandering dogs.

I want to call you and
Reel off a list of
Everything that’s ever happened,
All the people in the world
Who have made love at
Deeply
Satisfying
Angles,
I want to call you,
Pump you with blood,
My fingers rabbiting
Through a snug warren -
Bright Eyes,
Bulldozer,

Wanna call you
And say
'How could he do it to me?'
And in the same breath,
'Imagine me on my knees,
Oh, uh,
**** my mouth from
A distance -
But,
But,
How could he do it?'

Wanna call you
Because I’m not happy at all,
The universe is sitting
On my head,

Need to call you,
All ******* in a tangle
Baby,
I know the histories of
All the trees
And I want to pour over maps
Today.

I want to call you,
I've got so many questions.

I’d like to call you
And ask you
Why I’m not dead.
No melodrama,
No pressure,

But I’m gonna really need an answer.

blipping

Oct 2013 pookie

letter

Oct 2013 pookie

A Mareship

letter

In a Bluebird toffee tin
Are a hundred letters –
Most of them doodle-stamped and
Delivered by hand.
Unlike the letters I sent to you
They do not smell of spritzed cologne,
(A trick that I learned from Grease)
They are not messy
Or tea stained,
But perfect powder blue
And allowing for small extravagances –
The Cursive of the Obsessive,
Cursed by neatness and perfect hearts.

I pick one out at random,
A casually cruel one sent from Rome –
I imagine you blinking on a balcony
With dazzles on your collarbone,
A teeny tiny sugarless coffee
At your side,
And a pen tapping your knee.

“I’m not a **** at all –“ you wrote,
It’s only that you are gregarious
In the most DISGUSTING way.
That’s your problem not mine -
Your optimism won’t catch you.
Cynicism won’t catch you either,
But it has the courtesy not to throw you.
I’m stopping now,
By the time you get this
I’ll be back home.
What pointlessness we endure for one other.
I miss you, as you say,
‘ever so’ –
Bedtime here is a source of misery.”

And then you signed your name,
Tiny,
Small,
Impossibly graceful,
Just like yourself.

You were always nasty
When you missed me.

Oct 2013 pookie

Uncertainty

Oct 2013 pookie

Life's a Beach

Uncertainty

I'm having an attack
and I don't know who to
call.
I don't know if I'll
ever break down
these walls of
social insecurity.
"Who would want to listen to me?"
Listen to me ramble,
and scramble for
footholds.
Watch me fold in
on myself,
shelfing mentally the
moment
the date
the weight of this
particular distress.

Give me a minute,
I'll just compress it.

Target 1: learn to admit
when you need help.

Oct 2013 pookie

Unstable Force

Oct 2013 pookie

Life's a Beach

Unstable Force

There is anger in your eyes.
Instability
when you look at me
I fear for my safety,
we both know what
you could do.

What you are capable of.

In these moments
your eyes are incapable of
love.
All I can do is look
above me, into
your face
and pray you do
not erase me.

You could.

We both know it.
If it had ever gone to blows,
who knows what
could have happened?
I honestly don't know,
and so, I sunk
low into the ground
when you glared.

I thought I could tame you,
through the rare times you were
scary
and the times in which you
laughed,
it was always a shame when
those moments passed.

Hello Mr Hyde
where is Mr Jeckll?
Allow me to laugh along
as you heckle me
and my family,
stand alongside me
and taunt me.

No one's going to stop you.
What could they do?

They thought me safe,
within your embrace.
The only one in our 'family'
who could calm you,
they all 'knew' that I loved you.

And I did.

You were everything.
Absolutely everything.

After all, you stayed.
You played along with
my childish whims,
you made me grin and laugh,
helped me plan my path
of dependence on you.

I thought that, as I grew,
you'd stay.
I thought you could be constant.
Apparently not.

You helped to start this rot,
began the knot in my stomach.
You took my breath away,
leaving me to choke on air
all too aware of my fragility,
all too incapable of stability.

Every one appears as you.
Everybody new.
Even if I trust them,
I still can't shake the feeling
that they're not going
to hang about.
Always worry they're about
to shout.
Always thinking I'm about to
accidentally shut them out
in panic.

You were far too manic.
Mood changing
rearranging our lives
at the drop of a hat.
Bat us out of the way,
scream until we sway
with your force.

In so many ways, I am lucky for that divorce.