I am the giver of hugs,
The dispenser of caressing comfort,
The holder of those in need,
The squeezer out of pain and sorrow,
The shutter out of this world and its woe,
If only for a moment a head Upon my shoulder
Is free of sadness and sorrow,
Free of fear and frustration,
Safety resides within my embrace,
Sanctuary whence nowt can reach thee,

But right now it's the hugger
In hugging need,
That tap gushing
From a bottomless jug has
Just a hint of falter,
A tiniest reduction of pressure,
Insufficient for regard by others
But keenly felt by me,
Hints at limits being reached,
And I rail against that potential
Failure to project and protect,

So here I am,
Pouring out hugs,
While inside every sinew
Screams for someone,
Anyone in fact, to see ME,
See the pain and need,
See my faltering heart
And hope,
And step up,
Wrap me in THEIR arms,
Hold me and heal MY broken
Worn out heart a bit,

So I can hold and heal
Those many more
Still in need.

I have been at sea in a hurricane,
A tempest if you will,
Unimaginable force piling salt water
Into huge forms that surge and crash,
Collapse and reform,
A never ending assault,

At sea the serried ranks
Of mountainous water
Come in succession,
Over and over and over,
Crashing and crushing
With seeming unending maelevolance,

But every storm gives way to calm
And every sea will settle,
And that is where I am right now,
Rocked by still lumpy post-storm waves,
And I will no more challenge the sea's power,
But respect it and indeed

You

And many people,
Or maybe some,
A few perhaps,
Profess to like my work,
Riven as it is with broken hearts
And torn souls,
Oceans of tears and
Viscera damp upon the floor
Ripped from bodies wracked in pain,
But here's the thing,
I do not write for others,
Each word that bursts from my fingers,
My pen or often times
My keyboard,
With its burden of blood and pain,
Is writ for just one person,
Sometimes two,
Always me,
Always the author,
And sometimes the person whose
Hand was on the knife!

I miss the sound of water
Keening past the hull,
I miss the soughing of wind in sail
And the dull thrum of the shrouds
Like oversized guitar strings
Plucked from my heart,
By fingers felt
Yet never seen,


I miss the heel of the hull as a gust
Catches the sails,
The feel of the gunwhale
Below my buttocks as I hike out,
The restored sense of balance
As my weight matches
The turning moment
Of sail over keel,

I miss that simple shared moment
Of unity and rightness
With a crew who understands,
Or sometimes while solo
I share that instant with
The great good God that made
Me and others fit
To experience His creation

I miss the water,
I miss the wind,
I miss the feel of a taut sheet
And a tiller in my hands,
The surging sense of motion
As the shore retreats
And the horizon beckons
Me forward

I miss all these things and yet
Even as I type this verse,
At the end of another day,
Another week and with another
Boatless weekend ahead,
Like all good fish heads,
In my head and in my heart
I am - still - sailing

That I too decided to end my life,
And a fascinating process it was,
Or is indeed - who knows?
(Like a scout it is good to be prepared)

For first there was method and,
Applying that six step process I have so often taught,
I have to decide how long
Should the process take?

I do not wish to exit in pain
Nor rage or humiliation,
But calm and at peace with my choice
And with my action,

Maybe not a firearm then
For in emergency time slows and surely
The blast and rendering of face
And skull must hurt

So the same with hanging,
That sickening drop and
Thence to dangle as darkness gathers
And my bowels empty

So with dignity then,
These things matter after all
And this way at least I have control
Of these important details,

Poison?
Now there's a thing but
Poison is inimical to life,
So how might it feel to die
Destroyed that way?

The plot thickens as
The form of exit desired takes shape,
Comfortable and unafraid,
No pain

But concious to the very end
And so a warm bath,
A drink or two,
And feeling the lethargy

As my blood  pours
From my wrists,
The darkness is coming now,
It's harder to type
my focus is dim
it dark
i think im leavignow
bye

True love,
Love - period,
Can conquer all things,
It is an inexhaustible source
Of glorious beautiful energy,
The thing that binds us,
One to another
Or one to team
To nation or to God,

If you do not love me,
Will I still love you?
Will I have your back?
Will I still desire to be
Of service to you?
Share your table?
Share your home?
Share your body
And your bed?

Yes and yes and yes again,
And yet if you
Truly honestly do not
Love me,
Or rather since I see most clearly
That you do,
If you refuse to see or let
Your body mind and heart
Perceive that love,
Then what's the ****** point?

If I  leave this life
Unexpectedly,
And do not get
To say
Goodbye,
Then know this truth
My alabaster lady,
While I had breath,
I loved you

I love you with every shred of me,
But I do so from the desert fastness,
Where the sun boils away sentiment,
Where softness is a dried crust
And silica blows rounding off
The edges of loving intent,

I love you from a high mountain peak,
Where oxygen is scarce to be found,
Where blizzard driven snow suffocates loving intention,
And an avalanche will ****
Any motion towards a heart
No matter how much love there is behind,

I love you from the deep ocean,
Far from the warmth of any sun,
Where stygian darkness rules,
Where unimaginable pressure squeezes
The joy and vibrancy from every cell
Even as it sinks slowly to oblivion,

And I shall love you,
From beneath a marble slab,
Below the mown turf of the burial yard,
From the sanctity of a closed casket,
Held closed by screws and
The earth's embrace,

And I love you from these locations
Because therein you arent,
You are absent from these places,
From receipt of my love,
From reciprication
And here I remain,

Because you have placed me there.

Came and will soon be gone,
She came and did not bend the rules
She smashed them into
Dust

No usual rules of engagement,
No control no limited investment
Just she
And I
And google translate

Oh and a world of
Uncertainty viewed from
My back foot yet
This minor humiliation
Will not **** me,

Knowing this
I am relaxed and do not fear
The mockery nor yet
React in anger at the slight
Of shared laughter at my expense

What is, is and
What will be will,
Or not transpire,
So I will wait and I
Will see what comes

Maybe good and maybe more
But probably almost
Certainly nowt
And nights and
Nothing more than friends

And that too is fine

Inevitable our end and we
Know not when our individual
Light will fail,

But just as a candle flame is
Threatened by every breeze
So too that thread

My life hangs upon is
Subject to parting by any one
Of a hundred stresses

And sadnesses,
Yet I feel intuitively mine
End is coming fast,

The devil offers more for
My soul each passing day
And yet

I say him nay,
But I know what haunts
My body and my mind,

If not by name or label yet
I know that it is here
And so quite soon

I feel my flame
Will soon
Be out

The brief smoke of my
Snuffing carried out of
Knowing by a breeze

That I will know nothing of
As I will be
Elsewhere

I have said I love you
So many times,
Yet that was not enough,
I have changed my very
Heart and soul
To return the real me,
That too was not enough,
I have buttled and battled
For you and for us,
Put self last and
Impoverished myself,
Even so twas not enough

Til now as if waking,
The worried words of friends
Break through,
Ring true,
For all that I
Poured myself out
Over and into you,
The return on my investment,
Love and heart and soul,
That return - requited nurture,
That visceral need for me,
That love returned,
It is actually THAT

Thats

Not

Enough

Sunlight filtered
By trees that last night
Stood nearly silent guard
About us as we  broke
New ground,
Dapples the canvas
Of my tent

Daylight and day bird's chirrup
Would deny the mystery of what went before,
Gone the soft silence
Of the silver moon,

Perhaps too that which
May after all be but dream
Despite the delicious languor
In mine limbs and
Through my soul

I lay betwixt and between,
Half awake and
Half still clinging
To my dream when with
Movement not of mine
Tousled brunette over a shy and sleep creased smile
Says "hi"

I am the invisible man,
You do not see me,
I am the invisible man,
The things I have done for you, are unseen,
I am the invisible man,
The heart that aches for thee aches unseen,
I am the invisible man,
The worth I lost in you is out of sight and mind,
I am the invisible man,
The miles I drive are unnoted and unremarked,
I am the invisible man,
The love I feel is uncomprehended,
I am the invisible man,
My hurt is of no import,
I am the invisible man

However those sins of mine,
My fallibility and humanity,
My faults
My misunderstandings,
My occasional rant,
My anger,
My self centredness,
My frustration,
My expectations,
My misdemeanours,
My poor behaviour,
Every
Single
Thing
That I do wrong,
Those things and only those,
ARE seen!

...have appeared that
I thought it was all about me,
But it truly never was,
It has always only been,
Ever about just you,

I did let my pain
Obscure my focus for
Just a little while,
But even in the midst
My intent was all on you,

Or maybe not because
You alone are merely amazing,
Loving gracious and kind,
What's got my wholehearted attention
Is actually US,

Without me or you
There is no us
For either of us to focus on
Or worry over,
Just you and I apart,

And whilst I would not
See that come to pass,
The choice my side was made
Long ago,
The choicè and the knowing

Are yours to find,
But know this lady,
We have already been
So very much for one another,
For my part the best moments in my life

For you too the best of times
As well as the worst,
But the question I would know?
How much more might we yet become?

I have tried all my life to be
Bold and effective
And invisible in equal parts,
Quietly and without fuss
To help others,
To assist everyone I can in this life
Without recognition or tan-ta-ra

But it seems I have been rather too good
With my wand because
Nobody sees these things
That I do,
Well some do but of those
Some see in order to criticise,
Others just pour scorn,

For who indeed am I to offer
Help to others when I have
Nothing worth to give?
And when I point mute at the worth
I have indeed procured,
It's coincidence or their own effort,
No facilitation of mine!

Perhaps it's time for one last
Magic trick then,
A final swan song
Played to an empty theater,
To sail as oft imagined and written of
In that small boat to the sea's far horizon,
And make myself

Truly

Disappear

It's funny being berated for being too busy,
It's funny being told I do too much for others,
Or that I cannot save everyone,
That not everyone wants my help,
That some do not deserve it
And that I should rest
Before I burn out,

What those self righteous,
Albeit well meaning in their way,
Characters do not know,
Cannot know having never done
Such as I do every day,
Is it never burns you out
To help a fellow soul,

They do not know the reward
That the occasional acknowledgement,
Or simple "thanks" bestows,
Or how it charges batteries
Back to fully fit,
However low
They may have been,

But in one respect,
Although they do not know it,
My judges and detractors are
Painfully correct,
For though I burn my candles
Both ends and middle
And show no ill effect,

I have just realised as I sit here
Sad and lonely,
Heavy in heart and my usual
Confident footsteps slowed,
I could really use a chat myself with someone,
A sounding board to hear
Perhaps a hug receive,

But right now

There is,

Noone

...the *** or the cuddles that I recall,
Not those that made it for me more than
Just a fling,
Although those were fun
(Don't get me wrong because they were!)
They were but passing bouts of
Sweaty indignity however good we either
May have been

No,
What made it great were those gentle,
One might almost call them shy,
Moments of shared intimacy,
Shared sense or wonder,
Appreciation together of something else,
Outside of us yet by being shared,
Defining us,

Those shared things,
Those fragile moments so
Easily scoffed about are and were
What made us great you and I,
When we were us,
When we were paired
In history ,

So very long ago...

I wish that you could see
The man I truly am,
Rather than the useless failure
I have acted as,

I wish that you could see and feel
The torment in my heart,
It matches that which
In yours I have caused,

I wish that rage which I created
Never came to be,
I wish the pain you feel
Would be hurting only me,

I never loved a woman
Quite how I love you,
Never been a coward for
Fear of losing who I love before,

You are that one who is pure of heart,
That one my soul has sought,
And now my soul reviles me
For what stupidity has brought,


Soon I may hear my life will end
Rather sooner than I aimed,
Yet losing you is far far worse,
That life I lose is maimed,

And even as I write this verse
My heart yearns to make you whole,
So if my passing helps you heal
I gladly take that end,

But please know this my lady love,
The man you loved,
Saw glimpses of,
That man you saw that worshipped you,

That was the real me

I wish I were a *******,
A ******* in both senses,
No father to be embarrassed by,
Worse still to understand,
No consideration care nor conscience,
Go where I wish,
Do what I wish,
When where how and to
Or with who I wish,

But although I'm called
A narcissist by those who
Did but a minimum research,
And that with biased filters too,
It is precisely my non-narcissisticness,
If indeed that be a word,
That leads to many if not all
My misdemeanors,

So yes I wish I were a *******,
For a me free of conscience
Would far closer conform
To the norm
Of society,
And then although I
Would have hurt some,
It would be spread about a bit,
Not all at once

Nor now

Kerplunk the game has *****
Held in place by spikes
One draws,
Hoping the oppositions ball
Falls from the frame before your own,

Falling from favour with one
You love
One that you adore is much like that too,
With every conversation seemingly
Drawing another peg

My ball is barely in play any more,
I'm hanging by a thread,
Whichever move I make,
Whatever phrase I say,
No matter what the care or intent may be,

Will surely be

Ker

PLUNK

I am that prince
With a razor sword who
Ventured into that twisted
Thorny forest which
None thus far survived,

I am that knight
In armour bright who
Refused to fear the vines
And spines
And bubbling vitriol,

I  am the man
Clothed now in rags,
Torn flesh and bleeding
Heart labouring for
Lack of air and

Hurting for the lack of love
In the little ways,
The ways that count,
The ways that nourish
A relationship

And make sacrifice
Not just worthwhile
But a joyous act
Of service to one
I love,

Dragging myself  
Upon all emaciated fours
Through fresh thrown
Mud and hard edged
Indifference,

I am a pile of bones  
Bleached by the sun,
Gnawed upon by wolves,
Bereft of flesh yet
Bearing even now

A kiss to wake

My sleeping

Beauty

"Know that I care"
She said,
But care was fickle
And changed
Its nature and consequence
While my care stays constant
And suddenly out of tune
And unacceptable

"Know that I care,
That I am there"
She said as if blind
To the impossibility
Of that being wholly true
Or of being ever called upon
By untuned unreciprocated
Love or need

"Know that I care"
When I hear of
Your demise in a fast boat,
In improbable storm
At high speed,
Know that I care
And love you wholly
And now too late

Look in your heart and what do you see?
Look into your deepest darkest desire,
What is it your eyes perceive?
That which is watching your gaze,
That scary scary thing,
Is me

Loss
That's what they call it,
Or mourning,
But I've lost before and
I've mourned
Before
Yet never ever
Known pain like this

Pragmatic,
That's me to a tee,
Yet pragmatism ain't cutting it
This time
Because I fear and I feel
Your departing
Before the decision
Or announcement made

And it hurts!
Oh sweet Lord it hurts,
In ways I cannot clamp down,
Or externalise or
Stop the feeling of,
A crippling *******
Of sobbing deep inside
Where none can see

And you're reading our poems
Which might be hope
Or might be farewell
I just don't know,
And not knowing is bad enough
At any time but this?
This matters so much more,
This is killing me

Objectively I know we should part,
Objectively I know you'll struggle
Because you love and desire me
On so many levels,
And to not have me would ****,
Yet is it enough my sweet?
Is it enough
To save you n me?

And if not?
If not enough?
If I lose you to another,
If I never get to hold you,
Make love with you
Fill you with my love and
All I am?
How do I then live?

I lost an eight year old,
I don't know where
He is but I'm pretty
Sure he's gone
For good,

Thank God for that small mercy!
He drove me mad
Controlling my ****** life,
Rude and selfish little ****,
Unbearable little ****,

I still have a hurting
Babe in arms though,
Weeping in his pain,
But he is healing fast
As I hold him to my heart

And tell him from
My adult self
That it's okay now,
He is much loved,
And all will indeed

Be well.