Once armoured and indeed
Once a fearsome tank
Of a man,
I strode across the battlefields
Of my life
Swatting trouble from the skies
Like flies from a sweaty face

No more bothered by trouble Than by a bluebottle
A man of certitude and confidence,
Capable of rising to meet and beat whatever
Life threw at me,

However it seems that love
Has become mine undoing,
My Achillies heel has been mine heart
And mine heart is breaking in pieces,
No more able to pump the blood
I need to live this life
About my walking corpse,

And so I'm shucking my armour,
The plate falling with a muffled thud
Upon the grass as each leather strap is loosed,
So strange to feel lighter as my
Weakness grows greater
And mine ending draws
Ever and certainly closer

You've taken my beau away
Without a thought and then
Do not care,
"It's not appropriate"
To give it back again

And you do not know,
Or perhaps you did,
Or do,
How much that sobriquet
Meant and means to me

Or how keen and deep the knife wound
Through my chest
And heart at losing it,
And feeling torn as you from
Me draw part

Til nothing left
No name of love or
Of affection remains,
Just some bloke you knew
Who's name was James

I am not fat
Nor fifty (plus)
Nor bald
Nor halfway (or more)
Through my span of life,
My earlobes are not grown,
Nor are there bags
Beneath my eyes,
Wrinkles on my face
Slack skin upon my hands,
It's just the mirror tells me that is so,
And it's lies,
All lies,
****** lies...

My horse was showing so much promise,
Fit and healthy,
Much loved and admired
Fresh fed and groomed to a shine,

But a shiny coat and tack doesn't matter much,
What goes on the track counts more,
Amidst the thundering hooves
The sweat and flying turf

It's the placing at the line
That counts,
And my horse?
She fell

At the first.

Fog is a ****** to fight,
You cannot punch it
Or choke it or
Throw it to the floor,
It's just there,
Damp,
Clammy and utterly inviolate

Like the inner workings of another's soul,
We can reach out but never grasp
Another's soul to our chest,
We can soar across
The wastes of space
Yet never quite reach them,

No matter how we try another's soul
Is theirs and once broken,
Perhaps no amount of love nor care can fill
The void created and
Never when that void is full
Of vinegar spite and
Ire

Two birds took flight at different times on pinions driven
By a shared need for height and clarity in the thinner clearer
Air above the chattering noise
Of lower altitudes,

Two birds, both feather clad yet more apart than chalk and cheese,
One a raptor with  keen and savage eye
And beak and claw,
The other softer, silver grey and dove,

Two creatures launched at different points in history,
Sharing a common physiology
Yet at odds in their interaction with the world
And opposite ends of the food chain,

Not once should their flights cross except but once,
Even would time dividing their flights permit,
And then would end in a flurry of blood
And broken feathers,

But against all that these things can happen and sometimes must And did and then
As perception grew in predator and prey,
Eyes widened in unexpected recognition
Of a kindred spirit,

Then immutable rules of living worlds are broken
And the norms of life themselves take flight for suddenly
Those rules don’t count for much
And what then remains

Is unknown

Do we fly?

Or do we crash to earth?

Flowers need water,
Even the hardiest cacti
Will expire after
Two years without it,

People much the same,
But they also need love,
A caring caress,
A tender kiss,

A loving touch,
Those myriad little
Things that make friends
Become lovers

And lovers into soul mates
That last a lifetime
And indeed beyond
Mere dying,

But plants live
With no expectation
Of water,
Just faith that it will come

In time when needed,
And if it does not then
They die not knowing
They were left to do so,

People are different,
I am different,
I crave the little things
And the big,

And unlike a plant
Or a cactus I can comprehend
The concept of that
Interaction ending

And it makes me despair,
And cry

I have always been a warrior,
Full of the energy
That gets **** done,
A powerful man,
A tank,
Going where and with and doing
Whatever the heck
I want,

But, like a tank,
Impervious to the hurts
Of others
The pain and damage caused
To roads and hearts,
A tracked and nacissistic
Behemoth of - as now I see -
Blind unthinking chaos,

Well no more of that ****,
With all that I am done,
For I have found the joyous freedom
To be gained by removing my helm,
Opening the turret,
To see and admit
My mistakes
And drive with consideration,

I cannot mend the roads
Nor undo all the harm Ive wrought,
But I can be transparent now,
Humble and chastened too,
Rediscover that better me,
The one worth loving,
That authentic James
And I can make a gift of him,

Of me

To you

Godzilla-like she sparkles through
Life entirely unaware of the
Destruction being wrought in her wake,
Where Godzilla wrought a wide
Avenue of shattered buildings
She leaves men in confusion and
With broken hearts,

So much power in such small a frame
Belies the obvious strength of Godzilla's mass,
Such poise and effervescence
Could hardly be aligned with such devastation
Yet here we are,
Here we are in a bloodied mess
Of brokenness,

As on she breezes so effortlessly
We rock in the wake of her passing,
Wondering how and why
Such beauty could destroy so utterly
And worse than that without any effort
But without even knowing
Or indeed appearing to care

This heart will last me a lifetime
If only because when it fails,
I fail,
But this heart, barely half way through its span is already much damaged,
For whilst the attack that did not claim me
Left no visible disease
The slings and arrows of emotional assaults, betrayal
And cunning, low and savage attack
Have left an invisible mark,

Every selfish unwarranted ******
Leaves a hole which heals slowly,
Oozing my life's essence all the while
Until the damage is patched by a layer of hard scabrous tissue,
A crude patch to mend a hole
Yet limiting the function once there found,
A tiny or not so small area which is not quite the same
And cannot fully carry its load any more,
A small damaged piece of me,
That fails

One such part? Hardly worth the notice and
Already as always forgiven,
But it is not just the one small part is it?
It's a fine network of such holes with the occasional larger ****
Where the stab was sawn and worked and
Widened with savage glee
Yet still healed or healing and still already
And as always forgiven                                                         ­                         
But the whole of me that part not stiffened and dead
Is smaller now

That shrinkage is not visible to the outside world
Nor will it be yet the shrinkage of useable
Worthwhile working tissue
Leads only one way and at this ever increasing rate
Of damage the end is coming close,
But who cares?
Well no one it appears
Because the attacks and the wounds are neither slower
Nor stopped,
So soon instead it seems
I will,
My heart will


Stop
Stopped

I see the fire within your eyes,
The smouldering passion and threat
Within your soul and
I blow gently,
Feel the heat blaze
White hot with that desire
Which I would quench

I have gained more than a few pounds of late
And my soul is feeling it too,
The fog and the darkness
Are gathering fast about me,
Smothering my endeavours and choking
My initiative,
Stopping me achieving for myself ,
Or others,

It's a sense of constantly impending doom
That follows me ever closer,
Patiently waiting to strike me down
Or just slowly asphyxiate my essence,
And remove me from that
Essential interaction with others,
And the thing is it is much like hypothermia
I know it's coming,
I know it's killing me,

And right now,

I just

don't

care

Sweet honey drips from
Perfectly manicured fingers,
Yet neither of us sees
That golden sweet glistening,
Nor the the intensity with which
I gently **** each digit with ritual focus
Until it is clean,
We neither see not because
We are either blind
But because our eyes are focussed
Each upon the other's
And thereby upon the other's soul

"Come hither" she said,
"I'll honey my fingers to aid your decision"
And of course I came
Because she asked,
Would have come crawling
On my bare **** through broken glass
Had it been necessary,
But it wasn't and the oddest thing is
She will never know she did not need the honey,
Just to crook that index finger and
Of course,
To smile

She dangles her beautifully manicured fingers
Languidly in the stream
Honey glazed and luscious
They draw fishes from
Far and wide
And she revels in their
Cute and ineffective
Nibbling

But she does not realise the darker allure
Of the sweetness trailed
From her red nailed fingers,
Nor the strength of the
Instinct to eat nor the rage
Inherent in the nibbling
Of that ticklish little-mouthed
Scrabbling,

But there are bigger fish in deeper seas
With bigger muscled flesh
And larger mouths full of
Sharper teeth,
She seems unaware of the
Attention her honey and her digits
Cause in the depth nor
The rising leviathan

Until suddenly the nibbling stops
As smaller fry take flight,
The sunny day loses
Its warmth and the scene is set
For a different ingestion
As warm and red and sticky blood
Now trails from sudden severed fingers
No more to be dangled anywhere,

She's one of those delectable girls
Or do I mean a lady?
One of those whom,
Once seen is adored despite
One's best endevaours,
Absolutely gorgeous
Yet also truly beautiful with that light
That burns from deep within,
Blazing out from eyes that dance in merriment,

She is one of those who
it's hard to deny in anything
Even that which she doth not request,
Bringing out a puppy-dog desperate
Desire to please which
In another would give rise
To derision but which here somehow
Seems but meet and just,

She is one of those alas which
No ardent fisher of girls will readily catch
Nor display in the face of others envy
On their arm,
For she has a power of all her own
Which cannot be controlled
Or captured nor yet turned to
The desired otcomes of any but her own

So she is yet another ship to pass in the night,
Mayhap to come alongside or
To sail briefly in company
Before suddenly,
As if swallowed by a fog or darkest night
To be no longer there nor seen
Even with the careful search of scopes
As if she never were

It's funny how hospitals,
Whence one goes to heal
Or die,
Focus ones mind upon
Profound things,

Life and death for sure
But also the life that's been lived
The life being lived,
Being dead and also
The process of dying,

I do not wish to die
In a hospital ward,
I have seen this and
I have heard it
And it is horrid,

No,
Let me pass good Lord
In the arms of a beautiful woman,
Or the embrace of a wooden boat,
With sails full and ocean spray
All about me,

Let me die astride a galloping horse,
Or in the metal clashing of swords,
The crack and ping of an airsoft war
Or the twang and thud of archery,

Let me pass on a zip wire Lord,
With the scream of a block
In my ears,
Or wining and dining
With my loved ones,

Any of these things Lord will do,
Or anything else the same,
But let me die while living Lord,
Not on a hospital ward
In shame

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

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

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