"stabilisers" poems
Two people lurk in everyone
the star and the scar
born from building high citadels of power
and cascading into smithereens
when the switch is tripped.
Maybe the voltage ran low
or the circuit breaker was poorly constructed?
I dont know.
I operate on a three phase armour
of emotional stabilisers
that spark and twitch when overheated
with too much energy. But I return
with black faced integrity
collars up and smoking
to fight on another electrifying moment.
'Thats life' I hear
the rollercoaster ride
built into the system
going around in circles
always facing the sunrise
and sunset. We scream and tumble
into the guts of the incline
the switch and roll of events
swerving around corners
holding on tight white knuckled
until it finishes its rumble
and we walk out wobbly and vomity
until the better side takes over.
The darker side recedes
into an unknown pocket.
Author Notes
Thanks to Cinderley13 who wrote about Catfish and Lydia and Lyda and made me wonder what the hell was being alluded to? It now makes a bit more sense.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 6:41 PM UTC
in the next ten seconds,
he opens his mouth to speak to an acquaintance in a room full of acquaintances
an ugly metal faucet that has been dripping for fifteen days drips again in an upstairs sink
he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as she bites at her fingernails and
looks at the magazines lined up in the supermarket
before she opens the postbox, she inhales
she throws her head back before laughing at his anecdote, her knees feeling the ache
of being crossed for too long
with slightly tremulous fingers, she touches she sleeve of her coat without reason, feeling
like everyone on the underground train may be looking at her
he takes a sip of water and screws the lid back on, checking his watch
a hiccup is heard from the back of a classrm
he kisses her for the first time on the mouth
he notices his hair has fallen out and sits in the shower drain
their elbows graze against one another's in the lecture hall but neither of them
catch the other's eye, both staring straight ahead
she blots her lips over a folded tissue to remove pink residue and looks herself in the eye
in the mirror
her father lets go f her shoulders as she wobbles on the bicycle without its stabilisers
for a second attempt today
he notices a stain of yogurt on his tie and curses quietly
she burns her fingers whilst making toast
she argues with the cashier about the fact that selected juices were marked as being on offer
the rain rattles against the window and he is uneasy with the lack of rhythm in its sound
they put on her favourite song and remember her as she was when she was still alive
someone wipes salt from her cheeks with a tissue
he realises that the tooth fairy doesn't exist and doesn't mind because it means he's grown up
she asks her father if she is pretty and he say anything
she slips a packet of biscuits into the supermarket trolley, her mother sees
and doesn't say anything
an elderly woman cradles his arm as they slowly cross the street
they look at one another and both know
he says I'm so sorry
she says I'm so sorry
he says I love you
she says you know I do.
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 9:29 AM UTC
Subtract five and carry one,
this long division
goes on and on until
I realise it's not about the five
or the one but life
and that goes on
and on.
The formula as I can see
is not numeral, it's
more elemental, and
mental arithmetic
is just
placed in my path to make me
maths sick or
more sick of maths.
The teacher laughs, but he's a fool
he subtracted, added,
divided and still
shares the same school as I.
It's all good they said but they
would
wouldn't they? as if the day was not
long enough for carrying numbers and
lugging that stuff in my head and
the thread of it's lost on me as I
suffer through geometry and where's
Pythagoras and what's philosophy?
Carry five and
stay alive,
keep the one to yourself.
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 2:56 AM UTC
Taut
Tight
wired and light,
tonight I'm going to take the car
tonight I may or not get far but
I have to go,
have to blow these cobwebs from my head,
quick or dead but under par
tonight
I'm going to take the car but first,
burst the bubble that I'm in,
begin to slake my thirst for all things that will end and in the end,
begin to start
begin to break apart the chain that tightens up
around my brain,
start the car,
taut and tight,not wired right but tonight's the night.
In the finding of unwinding I am wound up tighter than before,
the night becomes a bolted door
and I the rabbit in the spotlight where lurchers hound me,
spooling free
I'm in the car
not very far from where I start and find my heart just isn't in it
spotlit as I am,
still the rabbit
not the man.
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 7:45 PM UTC
When I was six years old
you took the stabilisers
from my bike, for the first time
You knew I was ready
You gave me a push
and you let me go
Two months ago
you took me to the airport
to catch my flight
You knew I was ready
to cross the world alone
and you let me go
Sometimes I wobble
But I haven't fallen yet
You taught me to balance
You prepared me for this
then you took my stabilisers
and you let me be free.
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC
It stayed with her forever,
The faded **** in her skin.
A permanent reminder
Of courageous origin.
Welsh suburbia,
The week’s paper nestled at doorsteps
And cars lining driveways.
The sloped street dared
Every child to climb
Onto their bike and conquer.
She avoided it when shaving
As though an accidental cut
Would pollute
Childhood's lustre.
No stabilisers. Wicked.
The street’s children envied her.
A goddess of danger.
They all lined up on the day,
To see their idol
Dominate the asphalt slope.
Imagination made it prickle
In board meetings and cafes.
Time marched on
And the sensation with it.
Parents peered
Out their front doors.
Grandad stood vigilant
Fighting a smile.
The silence before calamity…
…and the forward push.
The scar sat beneath her shin,
Short from a distance but
Taller the closer
You came.
Whoosh. Down she went
Gulping the air and
Smiling like a belle.
Children blurred as she passed,
Everything became a haze
And she hollered.
It prickled
At Grandad’s funeral last year.
That made her fight a smile,
And she eventually succumbed.
Euphoria blinded her
To the oncoming curb.
The bike lurched, and
Heaved her off.
Pain echoed through naïve bones
Radiating beneath her shin.
Her husband asked about it.
'I fell off my bike as a girl.'
Her children asked about it.
'I fought a dragon.'
Grandad appeared instantly,
Deft hands wrapping
Gauze around a cut.
With an affectionate ruffle,
He pulled her up onto his shoulder
And carried her back.
When she cried in pain,
He pulled her closer.
Jun 12, 2020
Jun 12, 2020 at 5:36 AM UTC