Last 25th you were all life
and your voice mirrored the bells at the start of the day;
ringing with joy
and hope,
so it's only natural you'll be missed in these hours:
no you heard
in a multitude of sound,
a million plates laid at the table and still
everyone asks
where you are;
a billion lights search for a star.
Yes, you left quite the impression,
as if anything else possible;
and we'll always remember you,
always raise you in a cheer,
especially at
this
time
of year.

All events
about see,
sails risen
with homing precision;
never lost at sea
when you’re
looking at me.

My family is better than your family...

My Dad wouldn't care if I was gay,
words of love would be all he had to say,
he's pretty **** okay.
& because my Mum's 1/4 Burmese
I tan dead easy in the summer breeze,
sun's out? Guns' out!
If your Dad discovered you'd gave head to a him he'd shoot your head in,
son's out? Gun's out.
Your Mums not alright,
& she's all white,
that's why you go well red.
Oh, my parents bought me books, that's why I'm well read,
yours said "******* I'm busy, take your illiterate little ****** *** to bed!"!

When I throw
a nasty little thing like ego out
by my invouluntary
fingers
I worry people
just think I'm making
crazy hand shapes
in the air;
Nar,
these fantastic digits carry care.

When I miss someone a bit
I have the tendency to feel
a tad sad,
far from a toppling grief
adding a pall to all proceeding,
more nourished roots
missing the time of seeding;
every hop and skip
is still done
with swift
and sprightly,
every bus on time,
even the ones that run nightly;
but when the sun was full today it shone a little less brightly.

About to leap
to fill
but then
stop,
as it does;
what it would always
would in the time of
it's own,
no need to delve
for could,
or should;
just a roam in the will of always would.

I was drunk,
you were drinking and well on your way,
for one night we visited again
the apex of us,
a perfect facsimile of those days
when we were ours
and
danced
for hours.

You could make something small
tall
as a giraffe
with your soaring essence
and belly laugh.

Whatever happens
getting over you won't be a problem,
and that's not pre empting
bitter exclaim,
saying you meant nothing,
no,
you did,
you're wonderful.
Nor does it mean
I was immune to your charms
or the pangs or clangs
calling love to arms.
And not that I won't
be sad
for the stop
at promise
and what we may have missed,
just,
just because.
No,
it won't be a problem to get
over
because it means
there was joy to get over,
a joy that made days full
of time;
where all that was
was
at once.

You leave
but make no effort with doors,
small barriers rescind without touch,
I love you much.
A room with walls is nothing now
when maybe glides in the skies beat eyes;
everywhere usurping somewhere,
no lurks in lairs
or nestled corners;
a warmer, a light,
where all is all right.

When the last dream of you
I told you as soon as I could,
straight on wake;
the
tales
of
sleep
communicate.
Now
lay as a
closeness
rescinds,
oh,
the things we nearly did
with wings.

Hours of moving around
and flitting
between
different spaces
always feels good,
things fall into place
as they should,
but lying next to you,
still,
means not a crave
for anything else,
as your wonderful self
is enough to bring a day
that's simply bright;
the close join of our eyes
making all of sight.

In autumn
you
sit alive
in leafy
fanfare,
I'm glad
it’s so;
my sudden constant
in time of go;
making all my happy.

You join you,
once,
enough,
you can never do too much.
Union, you again,
fending and mending,
crash and lark;
your sight far.

From quite far away
you make me spin on the spot,
and despite the miles engender
my trot:
see your reaching magnificent sends range
to my feet,
and us it is ours
the next time we meet.

No imagined conversations
where laughter pools
light and loose,
the only grip on each other.
Not to think of meetings,
when we greet effortlessly
and move into our occupation
with ease and smiles.
To not walk through thoughts
where us is the center of ourselves
and all else shelved for hours,
not to grasp another singing day;
what will
will
without will.
Now you,
now you.

Watch words,
not watching words
when with you,
possible and posable
no thing imposing or impossible ; we can fight a storm front with our warm sun.

If there is
a time I don't know you
the world won't stop,
leaves will still rise
and fall
with season
in the park,
and sometimes the scared
will be
called in
from
the dark.
A small plot of land left as useless
finds a way to verdant
in bright,
and all of petals
may find flight
in the blue
of sweet sunlight.
But it would be incomplete
without you there:
the brilliant breathing
in no air.

Your core, defensive,
then, attacking
verdantly.
A green will go
and approach bark
with the spark of rushing,
after fall.

And now I have to take you down
to seem like you weren't even there;
Christmas I love you,
the once a year fanfare!

Bye bye!

Until next time!

As the light
goes more,
by a pond,
on my Mum's birthday,
ducks,
and geese
make noises to each other,
perhaps fighting the growing dark
with the call of
"are you okay?"
The same as you
taught me we
can
do,
everyday.

It means to forget
a victory.
Binded hands wait for what ;
morning conundrum
and for the thunder
after fun's done
and mope throw!

When you blow up balloon I stare;
what was dead rubber becomes alive
in air.

I could be happier,
by not thinking,
how i could
be happier.

Fading next to summer strength,
but
still
and unshy
of green,
it's just a range
gone.
No falling thoughts,
as you fall soon,
as once
in bloom.

A winter forms
on leaves that held hot sun
and summer run,
from a start that fulfilled promise.
What was strong watches
tumbling pirouettes of regret
gather on ground and wait
for the laugh stall of last fall ;
passing preserved and went.

I'm lucky that up until now
my heart has beat ever day
but the past few months
it's been warmer
and as mornings grow
a tad colder
they also seem warmer,
the time when the year turns
colder
is warm;
for no other reason than you.

Now on days at my desk
I think of you
and your brilliant blue.

In all the four corners of the room,
amongst the selfies
and the sit down snacks,
you have,
as ever,
the beautiful knack
of being here,
and wonderful.

I'm glad when I dispensed with toys
I preferred girls
to boys,
not to say there would have been anything wrong
with skipping down Canal Street  singing a song, with hunky blokes as far as the eye can see,
it's okay for others
just not for me.
If the caprice of sexuality swayed the other way
I believe I may not have woke with you today,
our hand holds lost
in a flurry of men
all giving a toss;
but rather then know a cockatoo I know you, another bird;
my intimate hit,
bringing peace of kit,
a tantalising fit.

If you were condensation
I’d have you in every room,
bringing joy to the pane;
refracting the light of summer again.

If
our hands touched daily
would I think of you lots?
When you went to
the shop
would I think of you lots?
Would I make up
a voyage of synchronicity
where the only thing between us
is invisible sustaining air;
if you were close
would flights of fancy cease;
no more puzzle,
the final piece.

Please be immortal,
don't ever
go to a land
I don't
understand.

Don't ever drop
to a world
out of my control;
always be here,
always add to my whole.

You make my  two too;
my love is populated
because
of you.

Maybe,
now,
nine
planets near
enough to name;
another lucky thing
to exist
in the time of you.

On a Wednesday morn at work I was after food,
so I said to my manager, "I'm off for a break dude!"
I walked out of the employment building and thought, "I can't wait to eat,
my stomach's proper churning and my belly wants a treat."
I bounded to the shop
with the I'm starving hop.
When I got there I grabbed some peanut butter, crisps and bread
and glistened with the fact that I was soon to be fed,
I went to the woman at the counter and remarked, "Hi! Hope you're well, can I have this please?"
She replied, "Course you can!" I felt my famish ease.
She rang it all through and commented, "That will be £3.63!"
I went, "Sweet, just let me get the fee!"
But when I reached in my satchel for my wallet I did a ohhh ****, ****, ****,
I've ******* left it in work!
So I said to the woman, "Oh ****, I've not got the moolah on me (I felt a right ****),
can you just put it to one side and I'll be back in a bit?"
She riposted, "Ahh, don't worry about it, for your forgetfullness I'll cater,
just take the goods and bring the cash in later!"
I was like, "Are you sure? Wow, that's real swell,
awesome awesome, to you all of well!"
I left Sainsburys feeling the goodness in life flow,
and then I spotted this lovely crow!
It was on top of a discarded receptacle that once held a Mac D's
and the remnants of the scoff it was trying to seize,
I got my phone out and went, "Ohh, this ace bird attempting in it's gob sustenance to flick
will make a really mint pic!",
but it was a windy time and the paper holder went out of the crow's reach,
from her grasp and blew up the street.
I felt crestfallen for the winged thing, my being started to lag,
until I remembered what I had in my bag!
I tore open the bread and broke it into tiny parts and said, "Here you go mate, I know that other foodie you did miss
but have some of this!"
And then it occured to me that if someone hadn't gave me the stuff I wouldn't have been able to do that;
I felt the warm in the universe, I heard a joyful clap,
because kindness reciprocates wherever it is found,
from person to person to bird, from the top to the ground,
and when I looked back and watched the crow nibble on the bread before it flew away,
I realised this was turning into a wonderful beautiful day!
(P.S. I went back and paid the woman a hour later!)

Want
on was leaves,
small steps while futile implores
on the floor.
But it all happens itself.
No hurry or rush
or do
or do not,
as easy as green calling to show  
with no making low
in the months near snow;
the start and
full
of long ago.

Near you
is being sat under butterfly blue skies;
a world resplendent with confident soaring,
not seeming
to flutter by.

A gaze trying not to settle
runs through
all the things I know,
so far,
about you.
Fear being abrupt or early,
although,
unfurl thee.
Contains rush in awesome hush;
quiet and curled up
tries not to think on the cup,
the cusp of the cup.

Presents from present,
not anticipating
gifts wrapped tightly
and stowed beyond reach ;
this moment to seek.

Wings hidden well
and never spread with
surprise,
you wait till eye shut
and then run loud in cloud,
you complete,
cusping and converging,
fresh, new,
how like you.
Then descend without a hint of flight,
knowing light.

When we both declared dehydrated
you gave us in an instant
your last radiator warmed Sprite;
oh how like you
to quench,
and share,
and be bright.

It's always in focus,
everything you do.
And,
when lids drop
there's thankful clapping for the highs,
and for the sunshine
from your eyes.

The storm
make believe
with ease;
your soar roaring.

It congregates
too late
when you are in front of me
but don't start memory,
just here
and now.
Never worn
or
pristine.

There is no thing
to be said
between us.
We could say i love you
but
i love you is known,
in binded tome.
Abstract metaphors seek
a form of us,
but it wasn't us,
i love you,
and us

I feel
I want to show you
my going home face,
my face would look like home
if, my home was your face;
or if your face feels home
on my face.

Although your departure was imminent
it still smashed
more than the bottle
of bon voyage,
fragility sank in too;
the days
and nights
without you.

Not known,
you will go;
born with thought
and fury of last;
past.

A roar of suggestion
now as faint
as ancient pillars
holding up air,
majesty diminished
by time
but still rooted
in a ground that sparkled
with the start of bloom;
a run to fantastic
that never came soon.

That one petal fortitude
blasts through with try;
the grey sea moment
now full of sky.