He is a masquerade
Content to sow mischief in the night
And then parade his latest masterpiece
In this case, a morning shadow which looms
Astounding passers-by and critics alike
Who with suitable reverence
Must be seen to observe
What form, what insight, what's nerve!

Next, gathering around a leaf or stem
Painters paint inside,
Sculptors frown at stony ground
While poets leap onto rocks
With grandly spoken offerings
Listening for echoes, hearing no sound.

Unobtrusively we join the queue
Of course belonging to the privileged, chosen few
Hoping we can touch the hands of seers
And peer with them through familiar windows
Recording for posterity, a different view.

And all for what?
For one to exclaim
With hand on heart
Your work really sets me free,
What interpretation
What art,
And of course one of the worst culprits
Is me!

I think I was the boy
Who chased off the ******
And retrieved your sweets and toys
From the gutter.

I'm sure it was me
Who took you to the pictures
After your boyfriend cut you down a size,
Then walked you home
When the last bus failed to materialize.

Anyway, we gradually moved
Whole towns and cities then universes away
And though we tried to keep in touch
Messages and responses became confused and crackly
When the transmitter I made
Proved not up to much.

So I Morse code this hope, if ever
I should come to your planet
I might be allowed a walk down the street
And perhaps somewhere in the middle
We could exchange odd glances
Half remembering a friend and a lover
And recognizing ourselves in each other

What right have I to expect
Skies to open up rainbows
Of answers and hope?
Or send down petals
Heavy laden with fragrant cures
For all these ills.
Or mountain ranges
To unearth themselves
To be at my beck and call,
For rivers to change their flowing
On my say so
And you, why should you choose
To see something in me
Worth loving?

Midnight.
Locked up, turned off
Tucked in,
Said goodnight to
Prayed for
Listened for an answer to ...
Silence.
The dripping tap starts
Must always have been there
Like a countdown to morning
Leaves me counting the seconds
Until the next one
When sleep turns me off.

Still here, another year older
A little closer to being
Another year colder
In that place we don't talk about.
And here you are
Heaven sent, right on time
Ah marvelous time
Don't want to waste it
With the pre *** meal
As if the world needs
More food and water
Or the pre *** chat
Couldn't we get straight
Down to it?
Why do I have to spell out my dreams
In words small enough
For the child in us to understand?
Ah there's a thought, as if
The world needs more young dreamers,
Come to think of it
Let's skip ***
I want to love you
As if the world needs more love.

The orange street lights wait
With heads bowed to be relieved.
Rows of curtained windows
Long to draw back the night
And excited raindrops cling
Perilously to leaves that would quiver
But nothing dares flinch
Or stir from sleep
Until we receive the call
That the gallery is about to open,
For this morning we are all
Painted so perfectly still.

All that is except for the clouds
Those great grey whales
Whose mystical journeys
Are chartered at first
By the faintest streaks of blue.
From under the ocean I marvel
As their huge resolute forms
Lumber purposively across my world
And I realize that the miracle
Has happened again,
I can breath unaided.

Now smaller shoals of fish appear
And lighter in form and texture,
All they want is to play
So let them have their moment
Let them disperse and lose their way
Or else face the conquering
Legions of a Royal hue.

But for now, gentle radiant light filtering down
Permeates it's subject, like a thank you.

Every night I prayed
Thankful for my life
A home, a job, a son, a wife.
My prayers, I believed,
Kept it all together.
Thankful also for our health,
Grateful for the simple things
For I thought
If I took nothing for granted
My prayers would have
More chance of being noticed.

And then you left.
Taking your prayers with you
Must have meant you stopped
Praying for me.
I quickly realised how yours
Had been the only ones
That had been listened to.
Mine had probably never
Reached their target,
Falling somewhere back to earth.

Body I will lay you down now
Leave you in the bed
Because I want to enjoy this morning
Free from pain.
And mind, I will leave you
A little further down the path,
Thank you for all you tried to do.
And soul, let us go on
See where this goes.

No more shall we talk of the passion
That swells the tides, fills the sails
And turns us into explorers,
They say it is overrated anyway.
Give us a cosy room
And tucked up safely in bed
Some hot chocolate and a good book instead.
An adventure with lashings of romance
Would be perfect.

Two lives became one
Became one again.

Two prayers, understood, unspoken
Complete as two halves
Now shouted aloud
But halved.

Food chosen for three
By small fingers pointing
Now bought for one
Prepared as solemn ritual
In silence
At the end of the day.

Went to bed at 6am
So I've ruined the day
Made myself feel ill
Unsettled, a bit panicky.
Will I never learn
That sleep is for sleeping
Waking is for waking,
How can I confuse the two?
It's just that lately
With the days so uncertain
Sometimes I like to make the nights
Last as long as I can.

All is blue, tinged with blue
The sky and sea that is,
And here he is, riding boldly
Across the beach
Into their lives
On to the half finished canvas
The tumbling, shimmering waves
That would have gone on past the horizon.
He makes delicate fingers tremble
Paint things how they could have been,
He causes the sun to skip
The wind to turn,
Leaves them in no doubt
And us holding the reins.

Black as the sea at night
Your hair flows through my fingers
Away from this dry river bed.
What kind of naked flame is this
That longs to be doused?
Naughty angel you lead me astray.
You will need all your training for this.
What lengths must you go to
To save me?

The day before we get the bad news
Is like any other
Drifting away from us
Like the boats that are starting
To appear on the river again.
And no matter how fast we swim
We can never catch them up
And no matter how many times the cold water
Brings us back to life
It is as if we never quite recover
From first jumping in.

Our two suitcases
Together again
Under the bed,
Mine, looking brand new
In its original cellophane
With a 'Pasures New' label
Was still a good buy.
Yours is pretty battered now,
It has seen better days
And will again.

When you climb into her bed
She turns over
Her eyes flickering open
Welcoming the intrusion.
Her lips smile as she kisses your forehead
With hands reaching out
Unthinking, unafraid
Drawing you into her sanctuary
Her private moments,
Caressing you
Holding you
Like a lover, a friend
A mother.

A group of elderly people
Have congregated in the doorway
To comb their hair and ask each other
If they had smiled at the right time.
Then they wait for their photographs
To be developed
For their passports to heaven.

All night our two proud armies
Fought for control over the city.
Occasionally we popped out our heads
And counted seconds
As if the thunder was a harmless echo
Of a battle being fought somewhere else
And the lightning only a crack in the sky
Which come morning would be miraculously healed.
And it was true, in the stillness and peace
That is born of destruction
It was easier then to find your love
Your hand sticking out of the rubble.

The sad muffled figure coming towards me
Can barely put one foot in front of the other
As if he had lived a whole life
Without ever seeing a flight of stairs.
What terrible sins had not been forgiven
That he should be affected so?
All I can do is stand and wait
Knowing he will need wings
If I am to avoid being late.
But he will never look up
Stares instead at every painful uncertain step
As if he has to count each one.
Then I see that what he has dropped
Is a gauntlet thrown down
And in his hand a walking stick
Turns into something more sinister.
On he comes, now with purpose, over the top
Past barbed wire, the earthworks
Into trenches where friends lie
Like sacks on ******* day.
And with a look I always remember
He accepts my surrender.

The apprentice has lost the master key again
And the shops will not be opening today.
In truth they couldn't anyway
Because we have bought everything,
There is no more and may never be again.
And while we fretted about the climate,
Scoured the sky for rogue meteorites
Panic buying crept up on us like a new plague.

Little wonder then we marvel at a pair of slippers
Are eternally grateful for handkerchiefs or a new shirt.
And then there's the child's wonder, the magic
Of that first remembered Christmas
When the world slipped out of orbit
And edged a fraction closer to heaven.

It is up to us tonight, we who are alone.
We are the children again, too weary to walk another step
And asking our Father to carry us a little way.
And if this is the prayer God hears
He may yet decide to give us all another year.

You changed me
And it was for my own good
You controlled my very form
My breathing
Your will became my will
Your needs were my needs
You pulled me, stretched me
Moulded me so that I could
Better feel what was inside you
And now you're gone
It's me that's empty.

Tonight I will easily
Put you out of my mind,
Out of sight
Where I do not need you,
Out of reach
Where I do not need to,
Safely, without tears
Tidily, without remorse,
And instead gently kiss your shadow
As it falls
Silently, lingeringly, exquisitely
Across my shiny, upturned face.

Straining our eyes to see
Where we are going
To remember where we have been
Let it all pass by
In the blink of an eye
For there is nothing here
To detain us.

It was an island hopping
Palm tree climbing
Coconut throwing
Malibu dancing
Sort of day.
Well, not exactly
But it was nearly April
And I was walking down the High Street
And my coat was undone
For the first time that year.

This morning I passed the place where yesterday
A car had flown over the hill, into the sun
And hit a young cyclist.
I had arrived  a seconds difference
Between two worlds too late
To shout out a warning.
The car was already in position
Badly parked with a broken windscreen
And one door open, grounded with only one wing.
The boy, who must have been late for his tea by then
Lay on the grass verge, covered in a blanket.

And how many will slow down voluntarily
Before they hear the ambulance
Picking it's way, then weaving drunkenly
Through busy streets,
Ever closer, as they wonder where it is going
As they realize it has come for them?

Surely this morning there is no danger
I have never seen the road so deserted
There are no reminders of worlds colliding
Only a small boy
Standing forlornly on the pavement
Waving goodbye.

She hugs the life out of me,
Not in that second of passion
Before the moment of death
When an animal is chased
And grasped in lioness embrace.

She kisses the life out of me,
Not with mid-day sun lips
Which smoulder dangerously
Like a dampened forest fire
Lying in wait for that first shallow breath.

She loves the life out of me
Not with the garment of childlike innocence
Lasciviously cast aside by a woman in earnest.

And with all the emotion of someone
Glancing up at the station clock
Then turning a magazine page
On a deserted railway platform,
She scares the life out of me
When she says quite simply,
It is time for me to go.

The day used to be too loud for me
I'd search out my own company
Just up and leave them to it
Take myself off to the sanctuary
Of a closed door, a familiar wall
But thanks to you I've rejoined
The human race
Now I'm better off with the lonely
Crowd's searching pace,
No I don't seek out silence any more
Not since I haven't heard from you
Has left me shaken to the core.

If such a thing could happen
A common man
Should probably look for a woman
Not a princess
For although she will be
Infinitely more beautiful
And he will love her truly,
And love even more
Being caught up
In the magic and romance
Of a wonderful fairy story,
He will always have to live
With her disappointment
For she will only ever
Get glimpses of a prince
And it could break her heart.

I turn out the light
And my room grows hushed
Like an audience that has come far
And braved the weather.
Then I hear what sounds like angels' strings
And there is singing
Your voice, softly at first
Like snowflakes on a window
Clearer now, a morning star
And it is your music
Stepped out of the firelight
Danced out of this world
And taking me with it.

The crowded silence
As friends leave for home
The clinging whispering passion
The creeping shadows of a moonlit night
Lost in the dying embers of morning.

You gave me flowers too gentle to touch
You loved me that much.

Such thoughts cannot be
For I remember as if it was yesterday
Petals dancing in your eyes
Feeling so safe lost in eternity.

You gave me flowers too sweet to smell
You loved me that much then.

In my blindness
Your smile and grace
Were for all the blind to see
A kiss blown only
For another standing next to me.

You gave me flowers too gentle to touch
You loved me that much.

God gives me this space and says fill it
He gives me this dream and says will it
He gives me this love and says
Don't spill it.

With another year of emotions to officially uncork
Poker faced poets stand on street corners,
Like town criers who have lost their bells,
And announce to startled scuttling strangers
Their innermost fears and desires.

But I think poetry is best wrongly addressed
Sent away, anywhere,
To hopefully lie down the back
Of someone's couch, unnoticed, unread
Or better still left for centuries
To mature in a dark basement
And then, when appearing quirkishly
Twenty first century
Opened by the timeless language of love.

We talk about her
Though we know she is only in the next room.
She is trying not to be rude and eavesdrop
But some of the names we mention
Sound so familiar
And the hymn, the melody, almost like a waltz
Wasn't that one of her favourites?
She tries to join in with a voice
Still frail and small
Until she realises she is singing on her own.
The music has stopped
And we have moved outside
To look at the flowers.

It's hard for me to remember much
She seemed old even then.
But I will never forget the ritualistic
Saturday afternoon visits.
When all my friends were out playing
We were dragged off, complaining madly,
To the big house at the end of the road.
I remember some of the rooms were never used
And the furniture in them
Was covered in white sheets.
As soon as we arrived we were led away
From those closed doors,
Down a flight of steep cellar steps
To choose our lemonade.
Flavours mattered little,
Bright colours, red, green or yellow
Were the only things that caught our eye
And we would emerge triumphant
Each with a glass that sparkled and fizzed.

The garden was huge with rows of apple trees
And a maize of trellised pathways.
There were mysterious sheds with doors long overgrown
And we only dared peep in
Through dusty fingerprinted windows
At workbenches and gas masks.
Then she would tell us her secret
And lead us quietly towards the Laburnum
Where at head night, if we parted the leaves
A thrush had nested, was feeding her young.
And I remember the greenhouse
With it's giant water **** and wonderful smell of tomatoes
And that it was the perfect place to hide
On long summer evenings
When we didn't want to go home.

When I walked with you on Sunday mornings
Was it ever frosty like today?
Did Cathedral bells and footballers' shouts
Fill the still air?
Were you talking, was I listening,
Could I see your breath?
Were people washing cars?
Were children playing
And dogs barking
And shopkeepers yawning?
Did we ever stop for something to eat or drink?
And did we cross the bridge
And walk back alongside the river?
Were there even any boats?
There must have been,
I can't remember,
But what a wonderful memory.

Hollow, leafless, rootless words
I get lost in them
Stumble over, cut myself in them.
My words are struck
By the lightning of your words.
They break off and come crashing
Down around me
Like sharp blows to the head.
They render me senseless
And I awake to the futility
Of trying to talk to you.
And then there are those words
Wrenched from silence
Stripped bare, forced free
From the soul
And these last few
Written on tears
Are becoming smudged
And will mean even less to you.

If true love doesn't
Come true there
I don't want to go.
If there are no football
Or hockey pitches
Or golf courses
Or open spaces
Where you can
Jump and run
Or mountains you can
Climb right to the top
Or if there is nowhere
To picnic
Then fall asleep in the sun,
And if there are no tennis courts
In heaven
I definitely don't want to go,
I may as well stay here
In my wheelchair.

Phone - check
Wallet - check
Dreams - yes
Live for ever - yes
Keys - check
Doors locked - check
Open to life - yes
Enough fuel - check
Know where I'm headed - yes
Time - check
To say our goodbyes - yes
Reality check

Across heavy
Raven swept skies
My browbeaten footsteps
Wind check my voyage
Land locks your eternal.

Now silken angels wings glide
Silently into amber mornings
I linger close to the shore
A fool lost in paradise
His beacon arched against the wind
And with drums of lovers beating
I am swept away on the tide.

Oh the joy of walking
With people keeping distance
And no joggers
Or cyclists
Brushing past
Our shoulders.

Dark already; I walk purposively
As if I am meeting you
And you are the new season,
While winter crouches in a doorway
Ready to hit me over the head
And steal the last of my summer.

I hardly knew the man
Had only spoken once
That he had spent many years
In the high country
Was plain to see.

No matter how far I walked
How high I climbed
He was always just ahead
Always just above me.

Within shouting distance
If I dared to call out
My cries longed to split the air
Instead of lying festering
Inside there.

When I faltered he strode on
When I stopped for a drink
And looked round
He was gone,
When I was overtaken
By exhaustion and wanted
To turn back
He found the mouth
Of your cave
Down my forbidden track.

If the biggest thing,
Death
Is an illusion
Then the second biggest thing,
Life
Must be an illusion too.
Never mind that now
If we have all of eternity.
So if you manage
To dodge me in heaven
Which could happen
As I hear it is a pretty
Big place
Maybe in our next life
Or the one after that
We'll bump into each other
At a bus stop
If they have buses then
Or anything stops
And something in you
Will spot something in me,
Hopefully not a spot,
And unknowingly
We will carry on
Where we left off
With me trying
To love you better.

I walk only towards you
Wait only for your breath
Listen only for your sigh
Feel my heart beat for you.

When we close our eyes
The darkness is complete
That's where we'll find each other.

The face of my angel
Is lost in shadow
Her coat still drips
With last night's rain
But I know she is quite young
When she tells me her name.

She kneels at my bedside
Feeding me oranges and grapes
Telling me stories
How the warrior killed the snakes.

And her smile makes me feel
I am worth saving
I can leave behind this mess
That very soon now
She will take me away
Nurse me back to happiness.

Of course it all makes sense now
I knew I had seen you somewhere before.
At Little Round Top
Your blue tidal wave swept us off our feet
Came crashing down from a sea of pine trees
And we drowned in that ****** surf.

I managed only one round before I was hit
A wild shot and so unlucky, I see that now.
As we lay soaking up the last of the sun
I remember how you cursed me
For taking your life
And little did I think then
You would find me
One hundred and fifty years later
And steal my wife.

In the clearing
Away from prying eyes
A man has dallied too long
And missed the best of the light.
He has strung that bow
Ten thousand times or more
But see how his hand shakes
The effort almost beyond him.
Where once his aim
Was true and straight
To the heart of a target,
Another knows
Now he pulls back
Too aware of the tension,
Cannot wait
Does not care where his last arrow goes.

She will give birth to a boy
And I will call him brother
And he shall go across four continents
Until he finds her
And their child I will call sister
And we shall populate the universe
With our humanity.

Stumbled across this,
Second hand but you wouldn't know it,
See it's hardly worn
Still in it's original wrapping
Try it on, it suits you better,
You can turn that up
Take that in
A few small adjustments that's all
It's for a good cause anyway,
At that price it's almost worth
Making it fit
And it feels good to know
We did our bit
To remember when love was new.

Remember our last ever pillow fight
On the bed
When yours burst
And we were left standing naked
In falling feathers.

Of course it takes some getting over
But just when I thought I was ready
To relaunch myself on the world
This had to happen.
So I take my aching heart to the doctor
And tell him it rattles
Every time someone slams a door.
His hand hovers thoughtfully
Over a prescription
And he says, strangely
I had someone else in here
Only last week
With identical symptoms.
She lives on the other side of town
But I can give you her address.