Gone
Away
You are lost
It's my own fault
The sleight of my hand
Tipped you over the edge
Your destiny unfulfilled
Oblivion calling to you
Surely this way you will never burn

Assisting
Varieties
Of
Invalidation
Dancing
Around
Non
Compelling
Existence

Such pretentious pretense presumes a plethora of personal pejoratives,
please pay the predicament proper attention previous to persevering with proposed promises of placation.

the one who thinks he always knows best
tightly wrapped in his safety vest
of surety, ignorance and pompous prattle
never aware he lost the battle

never a care for a fact or a lesson
he's content with merely guessing
before he even knows the question
he's already got suspections

yeah, suspections
it IS a word
why would I look it up?
I already heard

and I said it
so that makes it a - what?

No, I don't "always know best"
fine, then
why don't you finish the rest?

The shadow is cast
At the whim of the light
Ravaged by the same
Shattered by night

The shadow is patient
Waiting in place
Its presence unknown
Before light gives it shape

The shadow is power
To be tamed and feared
Wherever light is
The shadow is near

This shadow is yours
Pause and take heed
Embrace and observe
But don't let it lead

in a darkened, smoky room
getting lost amongst the swell
third eye spies my walking doom
an angel, staring straight from hell
black eyeliner, matching attire
Designer, destined
to set souls on fire
destination heaven
no designated driver
begging for attention
I had to feed the pyre

she enjoys the tension
in it for the chase
I'm here on propension
could be any race
like a Disney princess
twice the grit and charm
every piece a twin set
she takes me by the arm
tells me I should drink this
hands me something fizzy
I downed it in an instant
started to get dizzy

and I can't remember
what she said her name was
something like Amber..
Erica.. Blair .. uhh. .
as her face was melting
she told me to sit down
but the stool kept bending
and I'm on the wood now
she's bent over double
tried to pick me up
but I'm seeing double
I might be in trouble

battle with the stairwell
I had to hold her hand
asked her what she did, she said
you wouldn't understand
I asked again, that was when
she let go of my hand
small miracle I didn't fall
'cause I could barely stand
somehow made it to the back seat
asked her where we're going
she just closed the door and said
you're better off not knowing

Aw yeah, I fancy her, she's fancy, man
I'd love to get them fancy pants
on the floor like a fancy dance
the Spanish ones about lust and romance
I haven't got a chance
feeling chancey man
She's looking over, getting glancey, man
raised the ante up, I'm real antsy, man
She put me in a trance, real trancey, man
I can hardly stand up, need a stand-in, man
can't hardly talk, and she's chatty, man
telling me about her long term plans
all I want is to feel her arms
wrapped round me like an army of plants

so many once here
have now disappeared
long gone into the white

rambled and veered
on to paths unclear
faded from all sight

their bark was their bite
but this dark toothless blight
has quickly 'come revered

so we write
that we might be a light tonight
in lieu of the disappeared

the night moves in time
with your hips
and the rhyme on your lips
is my reason to tip

let me taste it
I won't waste it
exhaling your soul on these pages

can you fake it
while I make it
put a show on
forget where the stage is

you're now alive
thanks to me
shedding skin
so I can feel

the way the night moves
under a dark moon
the cost to put out
the light in a back room

I know you taste it
bittersweet
anathemic
lust worth the fee

just come with me
and don't forget to breathe

you're not alive
thanks to who?
shedding skin among the darkness

and I'll survive
thanks to you
worshipping a godless goddess

i.

from across the street
a single shot
silence
then another

ii.

"it's that same ****** close
where that poor boy got stabbed!"

the same boy
who fancied himself a man
running with thugs
a pile of drugs in the van

iii.

"it's only blood -
you clean it then!"

and so.
everything
is washed away

eventually

I look at you and see my undoing,
a picture I paint from a memory.
It looks like you know what you're doing,
deceiving, as many looks tend to be

Flowers will always sing beautifully,
fearless and blooming in throes of a fall,
a lost language, ringing out truthfully
yours is the song I hear loudest of all

Devil-may-care, a lamb to the slaughter,
awaken the beast from a dreamless sleep.
Your petals fall to greet the still water,
a gentle sigh breaking through to the deep.

I hear your call and I feel so alive
I touch you and fall through an empty sky

I know what you like
I see in your eyes
They glow with your light
Come play with me
Tonight
Feel the heat rise
Bleeding inside
The beast comes alive
Come play with me
Tonight
You know what it's like
You know it won't
Make it right
I can shut out your light
Come play with me
Tonight

What goes around comes around,
so what's going on around here?
I don't remember coming round,
it's all so foggy, nothing is clear

How'd I end up on this merry-go-round
and why is it in such high gear?

I don't remember touching down,
I don't remember the all-clear
Since take off I can't hear a sound,
I need to pop more than my ears

All I remember is the bend you drove me round
So why am I alone
paying to play in a haunted fairground?

you skipped across my heart like the perfect skimming stone

breathing art into my veins and ripples bleeding through my bones

left me feeling

less travelled
well worn

all roads lead home

It just takes one breath to catch the light
An infant spark beckoning a blaze
The sight of a burning heart never fades
One reaching hand can open more than a door
Guide you to a phase you've never been before
A single step forward to embrace the flames
It just takes one

One foray in darkness to meet with everlasting night
Fumbling through the void of an infinite haze
Without truth to guide nothing will come of your ways
Consumed by the pitch, seeking sparks to ignite
It just takes one

I overfill the kettle
scoop the overpriced instant
into an oversized mug
clinking the teaspoon around
no sugar
it's not really my thing.
I light up half a joint
waiting for the coffee to cool
and think about what's to come
what's today
I'll likely see her there
I'll likely sit down next to her
making small talk, a likely excuse
to study the lines of her face
she'll tell me about the fields she's rambled
about the mountains she's climbed
I'll tell her how I do still write
sometimes
she'll say, "it was good to see you".
and I'll tell her the same
before we part ways
no sugar for me
it's not really my thing.

I was on my way to bed when I had this thought instead
I'll just lay here counting sheep, surely then I'll fall asleep
that's when Bo Peep broke in my window
started throwing about all this lingo and stood there on one foot like a flamingo
I jumped up requesting "what in the world!?"
she said she was looking for the final girl and if I see her to give her a twirl
I promised I would 'cause I'm a Samaritan, gave her my word I would gather a garrison but only if she would show me her garden
that's when she got mad, face red and hardened, quaking with rage almost fell out her cardigan, she screams
"Did you confuse me with Mary? I'll show you something quite contrary!"
I could tell things were about to get hairy so I floated out the broken window like a bloated fairy and when I hit the ground I landed upside-down so now I make no sound when I'm walking around

In the mirror lies
an unidentified twin,
eyeing dark lines
in light of the past.

Entwined in the finite
shedding of skin,
a reticent shadow
with shackles to cast.

As black and hollow
as ink over glass,
a lingering flame
slowly flickers and dies.

Shattering twilight
reveals at the last,
a birth to dust
from which we rise.

Find me
inhaling the smoke of summer dreams
blown in from somewhere far afield
breathe deep
exhale
deliberately
observing the mountains of ash
dust on the periphery
recently undisturbed
from the beasts ever lessening visits
once, they were ravenous
a force unbound
now bound by force
consummately conquered
intravenously consumed
tamed
with cold inattention

Find me
immovable, unmoving
as artificial flowers in spring
copy of a copy of a copy of
a
delusion of heart
where wistful winds
erase the path once tread
breathe deep
exhume
inexorably
the ghost of slanted seasons
here, in the autumn of all things
where the dead come to rest
you'll find me
still
and still

take me to your hidden stream,
your shortcut through the trees
to the place where
a bird might flutter and land on your hand,
chirping in some ultra violet scene
about dreams and schemes.
take me to your street,
through concrete plans, past unwashed windows,
to the house that was never a home,
to the garden where innocence danced
and the bedroom it still haunts.
take me
to your favourite coffee place,
the one where the coffee isn't quite as good
but they have the long wooden stirrers
and you refuse to use the plastic kind
because you can't help trying to save the world,
take me with a look, take me
for a fool
take me with your fingertips,
your collarbones, your well-versed lips
and whisper to me
of secret things.

you don't get me
+
I don't get you

a poet who can't write
a dog that won't bite
a hill that can't climb
a clock with no time

an ist with no ism
undead but not risen
an endless schism
of self sedition and indecision

a two headed coin
a completely missed point
a light in the void
a limbless joint

Bo-Peep with no sheep
the shallowest deep
an unsailed sea
of dreamless sleep

I like a haiku
it doesn't need a title
it speaks for itself

I like a haiku
because it's simple to do
and not meant to rhyme!

I like a haiku
breaking rules from time to time
it's all part of life

I like a haiku
its complexities outshine
the simplicity

I like a haiku
it's always just the right thing
with just the right words

I like a haiku
it's a form like no other
beautiful and pure

I like a haiku
and I know you know it's true
but I like you more

you are the vowels
that used to dance round these walls
the towels we shared
the midnight calls that lasted hours
the silence we found
the voice in the shower I can't quite
make out

you're the sandalwood mist
perfuming the air
at the tip of my tongue
the ghost of a prayer
from long ago
pervading my skin
resurrected in debonair sin

you're the long dark hair
on the nightclub dance floor
the black underwear
on the king size headboard
the trips to Venus
through sunset plains
brighter than ever
in the rear view pane

the taste of love
a bruise on your tongue
fading fast
made not to last

the sound of hearts
as they crash and burn
fall so quickly
ticking sickly

a look so silky
it can't be returned
a touch of sin
lost to the wind

etched into skin
a blank page, unturned
inked on a whim
just as sure to be burned

dreams of an obsession
restless
shifting underground
I could be your island
love me with your
wrists unbound

rising like a siren
conjuring the jealous sea
dripping lust and violence
beckoned in a reverie
whispers calling
to pauper or crown
love me
and I'll watch you drown

bathed in your reflection
conquered in your finest hour
dream of sweet perfection
love me
breathless
wrists unbound

There are those who understand how it is
to see their mother beaten (down and up)
to see their young brother cheating
to spend the winter weeks with no heating
to be resourceful enough to put MacGyver to shame
to be racked with guilt but none of the blame
to jump any time the doorbell rings
to wonder about looping round with the swings
to undertake the first mission to Mars
to spend far too much time in cars
to listen to the music of Gary Numan
to put up with the voice of Gary Numan
to be unable to recognise the difference between bare truths and pretty little fictions
to look in the mirror and see only problems
to cut their flesh up into silicone quadrants
to be free (like William Wallace)
to look at a beer and see a three day ******
to give in to fear
to be a pretender
to be half way through a sentence and forget what it was you were saying
to pray to anything that might answer
to feel helpless
to feel hopeless
to be lost

and those who don't.

They say good things come to those who wait
And only fools rush in
But I missed the boat the other day
While sitting on the fence

They say hands so cold
Tell of hearts that are warm
But that can't be right
What I feel is a storm

They say two wrongs don't make a right
And what goes round comes around
They say shoot for the stars
But keep your feet on the ground

They say there's a window
That can see to the soul
But if that is the case
Mine's surely a door

Out of sight, out of mind
Out the picture, out of time
Out of luck, out of touch
Out of order

But don't cut any corners
Haste makes waste
The first cut is the deepest
Cut straight to the chase

They say knowledge is power
Ignorance is bliss
And practice makes perfect
(what about a kiss?)

They say life is what you make it
And there's plenty fish in the sea
But I'm no pescatarian
Just bark on the wrong tree

They say the rotten apple spoils the bunch
But it doesn't fall far
So take a leaf from someone else's tree
And always follow your heart

ah canna mind
the Spring in bloom
the buzzin o' hospital lights
the midwife's panicked rushin'
ti bring air inta ma lungs
or ma polymer palace in beige


ah canna mind
ma mither's greetin', when light
wis still entwined wi her form, before
colour drained fae her perceptions
or the shade o' the devil whit took it


ah canna mind the ald grey hoose
on a cracked black road in the schemes
or the wid paneled livin' room
an' stickin' ti dark leather
dreams planted neatly doon the side.

are the trees
are the ocean
is the dirt
under your nails
is the rain
bursting thunder
in the clouds
are the light
is the wind
that turns heads
are old tales
of changed time
is the villain
is the saviour
in all of us

after "The Walkers" by John Glenday


In those final moments,
I walked with them
unattached,
no longer one with what is,

a sudden finality ****** upon me,
like so many waves of fire
lapping at a paper boat;

I would never cross this river.

I stop at the bank,
to weigh my worth
and wait,

just downstream of a soldier
flicking his cigarette,
directionless,
one final hiss,
in surrender to the stream.

He couldn't see us
but knew his role,
and a shiver sent him packing
all the same.

I wait,
watching the walkers
gradual dissipation,
each ebbing more
slowly
than the last.

I see them fly
far above the tallest peaks,
lost to my vision
and the insatiable sky,
their light -
scarce as it is,
consumed by the silent stars.

I hear their final cries,
the longing hopeful,
the needy and desperate,
the triumphant and the downtrodden,

I listen to their pleas,
their anguish
and their resolve,
that we might yet heal the world.

Still, I wait
without grief,
and ask only of this humbling river,
how to mend something
that was never whole?

If the perfect storm was never enough
what can blow us away?
Can't tell the difference between lovers' love
and a love for lust anyway

something in the way we stare?
Open souls are laid to bare
weigh the difference
between lovers' lust
and a longing for love and care

Connections seem few and
far between
when we exchange our hands for screens
affection expressed through
likes and memes
projecting the best of our lives
in dreams

Something new
in the way we all stare
digital pinnacle
obsolete miracle
there's something to
how you look in the glare
something mythical
infinitely kissable

Swipe right
just to see see how you're doing
don't want your number, we just need a room
polycarbonate amorous gloom
the future resembles the present's doom

How many times can you save yourself
before you lose fidelity?
How many matches are made
to melt a heart of insincerity?

I want the intimacy
the bird has
with the duty-bound bee
dining on their innards
in the red oak tree

To stand tall
as the proud branch
the squirrel calls its home
welcomed in red-carpet-leaves
stripping bark to bone

I want the bite
of the patient snake
to shed the weary skin I've fashioned
to lie awake on sleepy hill
no chance of dinner passing

in view of the kitchen window at night
ruffled voiles billow softly inside
I want to know the voice
that raises living light
behind closed doors

to be the warm comfort
a cup of tea pours

I use my prescription note
as a bookmark
a milligram per page
a page for every breath

the breath of wolves
of swollen air
and dreams too real

it's not as if
I really know the difference

I think I like it like that

I just got ignored
so I pray to the devil
cause he listens more

we worship the same open sky
some of us asking why
some think of how
some wonder who
but me
my thoughts are clouded by you

I wanted to tell you, that it's been nice


                                    I think we're all going to die



Really?


                That's true


                                    I made it up



Nothing happens

                                 afraid of underwhelming

after Bukowski's "The Laughing Heart"

my life is your life
it was never mine.
omission of submission
leaves no way out.
what's an offer of forgiveness
to a promise of betrayal?
a lost shepherd leading the blind.
under a loaded sky
someone sang
"there is a light and it never goes out"
a marvellous truth that
has taken my heart.
there is light somewhere
but not in my eyes.
heaven can wait.
the gods will have to delight
in themselves
a little longer.

How to dress well (and that I'd rather dress comfortably.)
How to hide the laces in my shoes.
That it's apparently "learnt".
How to walk with a limp,
when to walk away.

How to look mean while avoiding eye contact.
Where to find the best coffee.
How to write a bad sonnet.
How to kiss the right way.
Where to find the wrong girls.

How to sing sad songs.
How to roll a decent joint.
How easily a wasted day
can become a wasted life.
How to hold my liquor,
when to hold my tongue,
not to hold my breath.

When enough is enough.
When enough is too much.
When to hold the door open.
How to set a deadline with no intention of adhering to it.
How to feel alone in a packed out club (and where to find the smoking bit).

That time heals nothing
but memories fade.
How long a piece of string is.
That no matter how bad a day you're having, tomorrow can always be worse.

Tomorrow can always be better.