When my thoughts
fall like heavy rain upon
the blue birds tired wings
and the ice cracks into
countless splinters upon
the quiet pool of simplicity
I hear the angels weep
like distressed children
I see tall buildings sway
with the weight of whispering
I gather my temporary things
my breath my life
my pen and paper
I make my way to the
pure white sands of forgiveness
looking out across the
endless mad ocean
I pretend to be a writer
I cannot compete with
the poetry of waves …
Clay.M

If I could teach you one thing,
It would be how to keep pushing.
Because when the world is looking,
They're looking at the one still going.

You can be great,
If you can wake up and tell yourself,
'I am greatness, I am here for a reason, I am the next big thing.'

I chewed through the streets to find you

up & down the avenues of hope

my burning heart raged with fire
when you were there

and you were all that I wanted,
all that I cared for

you brought out the potential in me
when others had shown me the grave

you released my creative freedoms
when others had me incarcerated

all others before you were mere
throwaways, a simple practice
leading up to you

but when the lust had dried up
and my yearn for your thighs
still watered,

I still cared for only you

its when you became the exact opposite
of everything you’ve ever shown me

that’s when the love became scarce:

I could not stand the sight of you
I could not fathom what you’ve become
I could not grasp what lurked behind those fiery eyes

we were once aggressive lovers of dark bedrooms
and now passive strangers on blue-grey streets


and when we cross each other’s paths,
you fidget with your knick knacks
and watch your soap operas

so, I must go
out into the cold
where it is winter
where it is always winter
where the harsh winds sting
and the frost bites as the snow storms
back where my heart still rages on
in the streets I used to chew
through.

We'd never call them losers
Because they couldn't stand;
We'd lift them up from off the ground
On worn out knees and hands.

We'd never call them fools
Because they wouldn't talk;
We oohed and ahhed with all their sounds,
And they did it as they walked.

We heard a blend of sounds spew forth,
Like spilled out alphaghetti;
They roared with oral prowess,
Like lions on the Serengeti.

As years passed, and they were graded
(And most certainly not by us);
They might return with D's and E's,
We'd never judge or fuss.

This is how we treated them,
Our children that we raised;
I hope that our puzzling world
Will forgive, forget and praise.

Like links in a long chain. Encrusted links, green with lichen and moss.... Links extending from the instant of conception, right through to the moment of death. Patterned with pain and passion, forged in fire and frozen in the blueness of deep ice.

An encapsulation of all things relevant, an expression of the best and the very worst of this binding edifice that is life.

M@Foxglove.Taranaki.NZ