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Dave Robertson Jun 2021
Jesus! The sweet burn of a heartbeat racing,
madly light-headed without a drop
passing lips that just
yearned
for want of a more sweaty term

inching to overdose with each reverie
while the colour drains from the now
a quick bump from a caught scent
or piqued memory

or a full on sofa session
pipe packed with young *****
(what dreams may come?)

the result’s the same:
unless you find today’s feast
you’ll atrophy on empty calories
of what was

#youhavepromptedme #flashedback #memory #nostalgia #youth
Dave Robertson Jun 2021
Last dew glimmers on grass
and gives in, winking off til tomorrow:
there’s no shame yielding to this sun

Rugged boots on
hiding flesh and bone that still shakes
a little
I step forth onto schizophrenic paths
that for now are solid

Today, the verge incense sways and envelops,
intoxicating, masking the usual decay
and loss
enabling a contemplation
that holds til yappy pups cut it,
angry that no one made them bigger
Dave Robertson Jun 2021
Sleight of hand combined with misdirection
so you miss the moth eaten crushed velvet
of my finest stage jacket,
the flop sweat beneath the powder
I gesture to the monument of worries
towering behind me

With flamboyant flare
Presto!
The monolith of my life’s troubles
is no longer there!

You are right to give slack jawed applause
and question my technique,
just don’t peek behind the curtain
beyond the mirrors where it
all still teeters

Until the lights go out, I’m cured
Dave Robertson Jun 2021
We fight a hard wired self-hate
perpetuated three generations deep
a shut-factory broken-toothed anger
that finds no solace in shop work or service

they had more, once

so kids get to swallow it too
drink it deep and let its grim bloat leach
into blood and skin and hair

we fight hard as hell
with teeth and tongues of tolerance
and claws to catch and hold
to pause, not patronise
to see that inertia is owned
Dave Robertson Jun 2021
Twang of iron behind teeth
picking yourself up again, again
from a self-penned melodrama
(one with a snot-sobbing end)

Clouds part, lending a single beam
striking your heart, and you know

Dragging the back of your hand
across fat lips that creep up
for the first time since constant bowls of cereal
and giggling, cartoon mornings

Collecting everything that’s yours
in one hand, a little blood
the doorway shines and you’re gone
Dave Robertson Jun 2021
Mainly blue, but colours shift
as the nape of your neck smell might appeal
or the mole on your cheek
that will stubbornly never be Marilyn

This love, like bright sunlight in shallows
will dapple and confuse greens and golds
as our souls ossify in cool weeds

— The End —