(20 minute poetry)


Her hair hangs like untied shoelaces across a well worn pair of trainers,
rain has no friends in the fading night  .
I drip and aware if this is being aware shake my head in despair.

I bark
if I behave like a cur why then not act like one.

After the rain has gone and inside a tube train the heat is on there is always the smell of dead sheep to keep me company.

I love her woollen jacket
( must have cost her a packet )
but why wear it on a wet day?

Anyway while dead sheep weep I keep busy, head down, London Town tends to bend people like me to its will,
no quill?
a cursor
worse
a damp notebook

'Look Ma, top of the world'
Cagney wouldn't care about this
not when a grapefruit says more
than a kiss
I miss him.


The shoelace girl gets up to go
and just so you know
we didn't speak.

The thought of daffodils in the spring
bring me back to my senses.
dead sheep aside I'm only here
for the ride
and mine's the next stop.

in passing of time,
as we grow old,
as i learned the wisdom
of the good and bad
in the rhythm of life
i stood still -
  in pause,
       waiting
              in silence.
at a passing thought
you'll never know
what's out there -
uncertain in most
                      cases.
in beating the odds
a step yet to have taken
    i only took a detour
for a time, just for a short while
yet I wouldn't have imagine
years has passed never did
i take a step...

I'm vexed to stay
waking up
With a head full of holes.
Each day repeats its
Punishment
For things I can't recall.
Sleep till midday,
Curse the days wide expanse.
Scrape words from my skull,
Chop meat from my bones,
Sew my mouth shut.
Still it's not enough.
Trying to reach you
But there's no forgiveness
for this clumsy emotion.
I'm a cold fish,
Or loving beyond control.
Hold me, generously
Undo my buttons —
                  talk *****.
Lose control and find me.
I was something once.