Wednesday 21 November 2012

one moment in time


Have you ever shared a moment?  I mean really shared one, with locked eyes and the full weight of mutual understanding between you.  Mutual understanding.  No words, just emotion, agreement and maybe a sense of longing, passing like electricity.  For that split second, you could be the only two people on the Earth, nothing else matters; and then it's gone.  Gone as quickly as it arrived, gone without comment, sometimes gone forever. 

Have you ever shared a moment, and then thought about it, endlessly?  Too much time passing to go back and explore what the moment meant, if anything.  Too much time passing to see if they felt it too.  Too much time longing and wondering and wanting. 

If you ever share a moment, go grab that moment with both hands. Don't be left wondering, forever. 

Thursday 25 October 2012

peering

Under a magnifying glass
Your giant eye
Peering
At
My faults 

Wednesday 24 October 2012

sound of silence


There is no sound of silence.
No sound to signify absence.
There is a feel of silence,
A weight,
A strength,
A substance.

If silence is an absence,
How can an absence, 
Feel so pressing.

How can an absence,
Feel.
At all? 

So solid, so oppressive, so real.

If I was to dust the room with powder,
Would the shape of the silence be revealed?

A white and heavy being,
Expanding to suffocate
All it touches.

Expanding to touch all. 

Thursday 4 October 2012

tainted


I don't like your face
Your smile
Your mind

I don't like your laugh
Your touch
Your soul

I don't like anything that you are
Because all that you are
Is tainted
By what you once were
To me

the sorrow of the meadows

She sat, filled with sadness. That familiar fullness at the top of her chest, the prickling of her eyes, tears were looming, breaking down the numb.  She lives her life with sadness, but rarely succumbs to it, choosing instead to hoist up her gunbelt and push it back down inside.  She is after all, not a weak female.  But not today.  Today she is sat, right were she sank when they told her, they told her Faye Margaret was dead.  Little FayMay, the only good and consistent thing in her life.  Little FayMay caught in a cross fire at Deblankos Liquor Store, gone, before she even hit the dirt.  Her only sister, and friend, gone.  Sure they were different, growing up, and heck, always, you would never of guessed they were sisters.  Amelia such a tomboy, always in pants, covered in grime, torturing the life outta some critter.  FayM was the one for dresses, and ribbons, and tea party's , and dolls.  Like <chalk and cheese>, they didn't rub along so well, but they always loved each other.  Growing up they got better acquainted.  FayM was appreciative of Amelia's many talents (and the golds she brought in) and Amelia was always in need of a good feeding.  They looked out for each other, in their own special way.  But now she was alone, and sat where she crumbled, and let the sadness consumed her. 

Monday 10 September 2012

of matthew bellamy


...he takes a deep breath, and sings the word -LOVE- crystal clear to the heavens... I tumble forwards, pulled into the darkness of his cavernous mouth.  Surrounded by the glory of the universe, mystifying and beautiful.  His voice eclipses all.  I lay on my back, and gaze up at the stars, my senses filled with sound.  Emotion trickles from my fingertips as they gently caress the notes in the warm, summer air.

you smile


Hearts and minds can ache in equal measure, and a face can still smile.  A smile which is at odds with the emotion that it is supposed to convey.  You smile back, oblivious.  Your day goes on, my world crumbles away, out of sight.  You smile. 

Wednesday 9 May 2012

unrefined crassary

Purple headed people pleaser,
Hug her and tease her,
Love her and leave her.

Purple headed people pleaser,
You know you want it,
Go on geezer.

Monday 23 April 2012

you love me to the car


Carried away on tears, 
Drop, drop, dropping,
Into a river of sadness.

Lifted across sadness,
And dragged through despair,
The tears carry over,
The pain. 

You look into my eyes,
Deep into my eyes,
You register the pain
And yet, it makes it harder.

A lump in my throat.
Knowing I love you to the moon,
And back.
And you love me,
To the car. 

You love me,
To the car.

Wednesday 18 April 2012

cleansing

Tears fall onto scrubbed hands, scrubbed pink with regret.

Thursday 5 April 2012

an innocent hug

His hands move to her
Ample behind,
And squeezes,
Forcing her up on tip toes,
In surprise.
Forcing her closer, to him.
Closer to his lips,
And forbidden kisses.

An innocent hug.
Of want and desire.

Tuesday 27 March 2012

woman in glass - reprise

She stands in the darkness, pretending not to see me. Always looking out of the corner of her eye. Always there, always mocking.

She raises a hand to her cheek, as I do, she speaks when I speak, but I can't hear her. Somedays I listen so hard, so hard, to the silence.

She must have a purpose, a reason for being there?! A reason to stand each day, in the darkness. Why does she mock me at my window? No life in her eyes, just staring, always staring, into mine.

I stand away from the window, but I feel her, the weight of her gaze. I know she wants me to look over, but I won't. I will not give in to her. Every day we play this game; I move around the house, she follows me, at each window. No useful occupation of her own. Her presence is eerie, always I know she is there. Why the fascination with me?! Why must she linger so?! I have nothing to give her, my world is empty.

I push my hair from my face, and risk a glance over, and there she is! Hand in her hair! Same style as mine, her eyes, cold, and dead; her face expressionless. Her eyes hold me, locked into her gaze; and suddenly its clear - I understand now the months of the chase were to get me here, to hold my attention, but for why? What use is this looking?!

I move towards the window, she moves toward me, and I cry out "Why?!? Why do you follow me, why do you want me here?! What have I but nothing?!", as usual, she doesn't answer. I'm met with the mocking of my questions; opening and closing her mouth as I speak, no response. Infuriating! Her face now filled with anger, I have upset her with my questions, like I should know! She raises a hand to the window and bangs the glass, desperation in her face, and I see! All this while it was her that was trapped, not her trapping me!! I raise my hand to bang, bang, bang at the glass with her, we need to break out, to set us free!

In a wild fury, I grab a wooden chopping board and start pounding at the window, pounding hard until I feel it crack - soon it splinters, and shatters; a million tiny sparkles. Glass and blood scatter across the floor, I collapse in a heap, breathing heavily, relieved that it is finally over. I look at my hands, my arms; cut to tatters and bleeding, bleeding a warm red river of relief.

I pick up a piece of the broken window, and see her, still staring back at me, full of sadness. I plunge her into my heart. Now it's over.

Monday 26 March 2012

scars


Scars on the inside,
Healed on the surface.

The wounds still ache.

Friday 23 March 2012

lusting for a mirage

Cigarette smoke swirls upwards

He looks over

She catches her breath

Tuesday 20 March 2012

transcendence

Transcendence
Shimmers to another plane
Ethereal beauty
Starlight and hope
Surrounds

Sunday 18 March 2012

six word poem #5

Six words, a poem, for you.

swallowed whole

I look into your eyes,
Swallowed whole
By your gaze;
Fleeting,
But meaningful,
To me.
Even if it's not,
To you.

Sunday 11 March 2012

alcoholic tears

How naturally the bottle fills my empty hand,

The amber liquid numbing the soul.


The passer-by sees no poetry within me,

Just the dirt on my face,

Streaked by alcoholic tears.


...Numbs and distorts, caresses and consoles.

this fragile, pretty thing

In your hand
You hold a tiny bird

Delicate wings
Tucked gently
Next to your thumb

Hands strong
And manly,
Yet gentle enough
To cradle
This fragile,
Pretty thing

Cradle her with love
And softness,
Protect her with
Your strength

Her eyes look at you
Adoringly

You saved her.

Thursday 8 March 2012

no air

Plastic bag --
Held tightly --
Over my face--
-- No air --
Life fading --
Drifting away --
.Stifled.

- -

- - !
- Play dead -
- -
--you walk Away!
!Escape!
- No looking back -

Thursday 1 March 2012

leap day

... "you better not count to ten before you run boi!"

..."today's the day we can grabs us a man!"

-----------------------------------------

Amelia Stagecoach Meadows,
Post apocalyptic Wild West:

"Leap year day?

That's the day when the law den't reach us. We have as long as the sun is high in the sky to catch em, by any means necessary; when we do, they cant say no. Once ever four years, the chaos comes, driven by carnal desire and a little bit of crazy; matches are ALL made this way.

Men cower, hidden out of sight. Streets are empty, aside from packs of women on the hunt. Shotguns in hand, eyes trained for movement at windows - the men will be found, some easier than others.

For some there is a want, a connection built up over the years that wants to go further; they make themselves easily found (only sweet Mary forbid the wrong woman does the finding!). For these, leap day is joyous, matches agreed, lust sated, futures planned out. Others aren't so lucky, remember, once found, they can't say no.

Women search, like wild coyotes; shotguns slung over the shoulder, calling to men folk with whistles and jeers. Years of desire, and yearning for younguns, has driven many half crazy. The men stay hidden. Some leave town the day before, try their lucks in the hills; but many tough it out, in the cellars, in the rafters, Old Bill one year even stopped in the water tank!- Skin pruned as a hundred year oldens after a life in the desert it was!

No man can stay bachelor forever. They nearly always get caught in the end, when their legs ain't as quicks as they use to be. Franklin managed it; to this day still no one knows where he does his hiding!

Me? I'm not ready for the hunt. I still got least another four good years of robbin in me, maybe even more than that! Maybe I'll end up like Franklin, a little lonely, sat on that old porch of mine, counting my spoils and watching the world turn."

Tuesday 28 February 2012

hug

Two entwined
In a bodiless hug.

No arms wrapped.
No breathe near.

But souls,
Connected;
Eternally.

Saturday 18 February 2012

i have followed my own footsteps

I have followed my own footsteps
Tracked back down the path
I watched again leaves tumble
From the trees grown in my past

I have followed my own footsteps
And looked me in the eye
I have seen the person in my heart
And no longer want to die

I have followed my own footsteps
And now leave them all behind
I walk with me now stronger
To watch the sun rise in the sky

Thursday 16 February 2012

moonlight

Moonlight.
Cold, blue, shining
on nakedness.

She stands at the window;
lithe and wistful.

The chill in the air,
sparks shivers on
her luminous skin.

She breathes in moonbeams,
and longs for home,
as her eyes sparkle with the stars.

Moonlight.
Cold, blue, shining
on nakedness.

She stands at the window.

Wednesday 15 February 2012

little pale boy

Small arms
Small body
Round head
Sad eyes

Little pale boy
He lives in the dark

Small arms
Small body
Round head
Sad eyes

Little pale boy
No love in his heart

Monday 13 February 2012

Sunday 12 February 2012

purity of absence

Snow.
As far as the eye can see.

A white sheet of paper,
An absence,
An entirety of nothing.

Not wounded by human
touch,
Nor soiled by emotion,
The purity of absence.

Cleansing the world.

Tuesday 7 February 2012

his shoes

It's the shoes that interest me the most, as I get older, I can tell a lot about the shoes. I feel immediately closer to someone with scuffed toes, than any number of pointed shiny patent fellows. It is what one wears on the feet that really maketh the man. I like mr a little unkempt, mr life is too interesting to use polish, mr o! I've got feet. I don't like a man that can spend longer than I do in the bathroom. One whose hair is styled to within an inch of it's life, one whose shirt is perfectly ironed and who is grouchy if I've washed it on the wrong setting. The shoes are the true tell tale sign of the person who is right for me, and as I wait for him, I'm happy, knowing that he isn't wasting his time with polish.

Saturday 4 February 2012

Thursday 2 February 2012

old friends

You.
All those years ago,
You played with me.
You hurt me.

You loved me,
You left me,
You fucked me,
You left me;
All those years ago.

And here you stand.
And I smile,
At us, old friends.

barren

Barren tree
Undressed
And uncomfortable
In the cold winter light

Barren tree
Arms reach
For affection
Before another lonely night

Barren tree
Branches sway
And bough bend
Makes a sad mournful sight

Sunday 29 January 2012

closed doors

She stared unwavering into his deep brown eyes, took a deep breath and spoke: "When we were both with other people it was fine, a little bit of harmless flirting, a little dangerous, but we both had boundaries". He reached to touch her hand, and she moved away. Her voice cracked as she held back the emotion, she continued, "...now I'm without a boyfriend it would be different. I'd be a sad and lonely person pining after someone who is taken, it shifts the energy. It's not a recipe for success however you look at it, no matter how nice it would be. And it would be nice, believe me". She knew at this, whatever they had would be over... but she also knew deep down that she could never really have him. He'd been with 'her' for too long, he would never leave. She convinced herself that no matter how it hurt now, it was for the best. Her heart beat out the rhythm if her loneliness, as she turned and left the train. Some doors are best left closed.

Wednesday 25 January 2012

empty room

Windows blown open
The curtains swirl
Carried on a torrent of emotion

She lay broken on the floor

Sunday 22 January 2012

Saturday 21 January 2012

oriental blossom

Oriental blossom
Silky black hair
Caressed by the breeze

Delicate fingers
Resting upon a
Peaceful alabaster brow

She watches the horizon
As a nightingale sings his love
Back into the nest

Tuesday 17 January 2012

two sides

Your side: an unbreakable bond
Family
He's yours and you're his

His side: an unbreakable bond
Cowardice
He's bored and you're history

Monday 16 January 2012

Sunday 15 January 2012

Friday 13 January 2012

my friend

Because of you
I love this song
Because of you
The lyrics are wrong

Because of you
I feel happy

Xx

Monday 9 January 2012

scarred

Looking at the scar
Just above my right knee
Pale against an even paler leg

Remembering the day
The Stanley knife went in
I remember it in black and white
Except the blood in red

More blood than you would think
The knife went deep
Accidentally

I sat in the bathroom
Frozen
Crying
Until you came home

You came home
And hugged me
I cried
You hugged me

Looking at the scar
Just above my right knee
Pale against an even paler leg

I cry

Monday 2 January 2012

cage of tears

Fading away into nothingness
You think
Exist
But only to yourself

Self enforced prison
Of loneliness

Cage of tears
Unbreakable bars
Of illusion
And pain