the things we don't eat for love

Throughout my life I have been influenced by the women that I have mercilessly adored. It is my "Achilles Heel" or more accurately a rare strain of emotional oscillation, which ironically almost always ends up as emotional isolation. At its extreme this weakness in the "presence of femininity" has seen me converting to Catholicism and at its mildest saw me agreeing with the importance of "New Romanticism" in 80s culture. Needless to say, I am now a militant Atheist and if someone foolishly plays Spandau Ballet at a party I feel a strong urge to kill the Kemp brothers.

This urge to mimic a passion or religious zeal in my dates is clearly based upon a wonderful weakness within my personality. I freely admit this as when it comes to love I tend to test the depth of a puddle from a springboard. That is where I actually find some solace in this incurable condition. For I am the eternal optimist, who believes that the puddle is not only deep but warm. I also firmly believe, like the proverbial bullet, that there is undoubtedly someone out there for me. So even though I approach love with the same trepidation as most. Once I get a bounce from my board I am airborne and performing triple somersaults with half twists. As I hurtle like a rocket towards my very shallow icy puddle.

Anyway, back to my latest decision and its physical and mental ramifications. I recently became a Vegetarian and to the outside world that monumental gesture is currently being miss sold as a health choice and a one man effort to combat global warming. But, I am far more fickle than that. I changed my diet because of a woman. I am now in fact more soya than man. I also know what Tofu is and how best to cook with it. Two years ago that would have been like admitting that I have watched an episode of "Keeping Up With Kardashians". I would like to make it clear at this point that I have never watched an episode of this nonsense and if pressed I could not tell you which one of the women was formally a man with a very large arse.

But unlike my decision to seek enlightenment from an omniscient entity who has numerous outlets worldwide and my short and painful dalliance with Kajagoogoo. I do at least feel that this woman has given me something of value. I am losing weight and my concertina chin has been replaced by a face I remember from my past. I am sleeping better and I feel healthier and stronger. Yet even though I know it will only ultimately lead to nothing more than acute "vegetarian warming"; the glacial retreat of visceral fat from my abs. The fact that I am beginning to look more like me and less like Jabba the Hutt is emotionally gratifying.

There is no grace in my failings or crust of wisdom to, break, bless and share. I am a man who aspires to repeat his best mistakes. I do this without any hesitation and whilst being fully aware that the odds are and never will be in my favour. I am becoming the physical personification of the "final futile gesture" and I truly expect to be listed in the Oxford Dictionary as a sub entry under "Hopeless" in 2018. Be that as it may, I am and always will be the hopeless romantic and the most loyal friend. Searching for love in places that people have long since abandoned or marked as radioactive. Befriending and defending the hopeless and vulnerable.

One day I will undoubtedly die and I will drop kick that tin bucket knowing that there is no God. But I will also know that "Enjoy the Silence" by Depeche Mode, is sublimely ironic "wake music". As for whether I will still be a sad, single vegetarian; well that remains to be steamed from what remains of my new and healthier life.

a Dublin dream

I watched the sun rise across a Dublin sky

and from my bed I heard her voice

asking if I wanted tea, coffee or something softer

so much to take in

so many senses unnumbed

so I peel back the sheets

and walk into her arms

sleepy and warm

surrounded by the smell of fresh coffee

and a voice that pulls me apart

piece by piece by piece

through the window I see the river

through the window I see her walk away

she turns

she smiles

and as I finish my coffee

I long for her "something softer"

laughing through my days

occasionally
but not often enough
I feel my life lurch forward
within a laugh
and sometimes
but not nearly enough
I laugh with someone else
and we lurch forward together

the perfect gin

somewhere over Germany

an easy smile with a gentle voice

asks "would you like a drink sir?"

I suddenly realise the benefits of middle age

and greying hair

a little respect at last

albeit compulsory

"I would" I reply

but I leave her waiting for my choice

"a gin and tonic please, heavy on gin and light on tonic."

she serves it within a fragile plastic cup

which she rocks with ice

then within my pressurised world

within my little life

that hurtles towards Berlin

my perfect gin

lubricates a weary mind

and makes a hard landing

very smooth indeed