don't write a poem
for me
it would be pointless,
it would be
a paradox
to try
to give beauty
to something
so ugly

sometimes you just need someone to
tell you that it's worth it,

that living isn't a game
only played
to lose.

i lost everything in moments
i couldn't count on my fingers
and toes.

all my blessings are coming,
i'm sure,

but i'm so blind
that i don't really see them anymore.

sometimes you're sad for no reason
and people ask you
why?

and you cannot answer.

your eyes paint the clouds black


i feel the wet grass that glows the colour of dusk,
i sense the light reaching out into every night

the shadows swim between headstones
and up to the pines
as angels fly past us
fading out

the ghost of a lone swan

resting on my arm
you see her, so still and so beautiful
and before day comes we're gone

by the pier
alone with the endless rain

stained gold by the flowering light
drowning out in orange glow

i see the waves
as they breathe cold darkness into the streetlights
see the reeds in the wind,
hear the roar in our ears

the falling slopes we climb
lost in a million sounds of the rain
floating without senses
lost between the stars

Flicking through old photos
Since forever stashed under my bed
Mum points at one of me
Little, laughing
And my brothers
In colourful winter hats,
Climbing white trees,
A one of a kind cold day
The brown leaves sing
"Weren't you so cute?"
To think Christmas is wasted on me now
And I lie lamenting the happiness of someone long past
My throat hurts at the effort of not just bursting out
Crying
Like a baby as I lose control
In front of my own mother
That wasn't me on that fence
The little face swinging upside-down
That was someone pure
Locked inside me
That was light on a piece of card
I don't feel
Like a person
Anymore
I'm a mish-mash
Of random
Things
I am a split second
That's almost gone
I am traits, emotions, chemicals, hormones, electricity, fear, love, friendships
Fading into a maelstrom of humanness
Mounds of recycled carbon
Made-up meaning
Lost in fog
Where I begin and end fades
Into everything and nothing
I'm the dirt in the ground
The stars in the sky
Something words can't describe

Droplets of dark divine
                       rain
Don't really taste
                       of              
Wine, but water  
  
Still I savour those small things
Ringing out the night's nothings
On the wind's bitter gifts

Til there is nothing left
And I have outlived myself
The cyclone leaves pirouette
Down into moon-glow
Puddles, ripples

The moment will soon be past
Eight thousand hours or so, I have tasted
But a fleeting crumb of the universe
Myself

Forever outliving myself until
The Sun's beams stain the clouds
Then who will look upon this frightened page
And see my soul in theirs?

I sit alone beneath a dry hood
That patters like the slated roof
On days you slept scared

Of rain and thunder
I am all there is again
The page gets wetter and wetter

As the words fade out

To write real poetry
You have to feel something
So I'm sorry

At last the autumn
wind has stripped
the branches bare.
Even insubordinate
trees now stretch

their naked limbs
along a leaf of sky;

timber ledger lines
compose a staff
where birds rest
as quarter notes,
the nested chimes
of winter’s song.

You and I unlace
our leather boots.

We wait for snow,
white and absolute,
to change the score,
to blanket measured
roots, a silent chorus.