Thursday, 26 January 2017

painting his endings

another ending has begun
but still he pledges allegiance
to his favourite lie
and as he holds Occam's razor
against his wrist
refusing to take the simplest explanation
unwilling in even the dying seconds
to untangle his heart
with the hands that refuse
to let go of her name
choosing instead
to open a fresher wound
for this is now his passion
his art
he'll take the blows
and he'll bleed out a little more
for this is his ink
and he still believes
that within it
she still breathes

his final masterpiece




Sunday, 22 January 2017

dangerous curves

happiness can be
found by avoiding
candlelight
and florists
sunsets
and warm empty beaches
autumn forests cut by sunlight
and red wine devoured
on shrinking sofas
poorly written poetry
and cotton dresses
held up by a simple bow
restaurants on valentine's night
and blind dates arranged
by careless friends
soft voices in moonlight
and goodnight kisses
on slender necks
but lastly
and most importantly
you must avoid
her curves
her dangerous curves

Saturday, 21 January 2017

desperately seeking me

I have seen war
but only the wounds of others
have left their scars
and I have seen sacrifice
and an unwillingness to yield
to love
to death
and to a thousand vices
I have bled love
and lost a lover’s heart
I have hated and spoken
falsehoods of others
I have told the truth
and damned my soul for it
I have created life
and in that birth found my father's heart
I have laughed with friends
so hard I cried
I have seen friends die
and watched many just fade away

I have been called husband
dad
lover
friend
brother
son
uncle
enemy
bastard
and sir
I have caused pain to others
yet gave everything
when I had nothing left to give
I have made bad decisions
and good ones that could
have been better
I have misjudged others
and given many too much trust
I have refused to listen
yet screamed and kicked
when I could not be heard

I have betrayed love with my heart
but never my body
I have defended the weak more times
than I have walked away
I have given the illusion of defeat
but known none in my heart
and yet still I would go into battle
knowing that I could never win
I have stood within the hatred of others
and stained my pride for life
and in my ignorance
I have mocked race and religion
yet I would defend anyone
from bigotry
injustice
or harm

I have moved through life
with the momentum
from fear
anger
love
pain
joy
and disbelief
I have cried in the rain
and screamed in a storm
I have faced death
and felt both fear and relief
in its shadow
I have lived alone
and with a lover
I have seen a sunset
that burnt the heavens
and a night that felt
like the end of the world
I have witnessed so many
moments
yet so many more are
forgotten
relegated
lost
discarded
or burnt to ash

I have learnt
that love is intermittent
and that we are not faultless
but amazingly flawed
I have been my own contradiction
and a paradox of virtue to others
I have been the hypocrite
and the fool
I have been the romantic
and still the fool
I have fallen from the grace
of too many gods
and studied the wisdom
of those who tried to make sense
of this chaos
and in doing so
found only that all that I know
is that I know nothing

like Dorian's picture
I rot with age
yet still I feel the echo of my youth
I have danced in the rain
like a madman
to the music of Jagger and Richards
I have drunk with beery strangers
and savoured a fine wine alone
I have smoked cannabis
and laughed as I choked
I have prayed for things
no god would grant
and been given things
that I did not want
and some I never realised
I needed

I have closets filled with bones
and moments
that I wish I could rewrite
or erase
I have been haunted by unrequited love
and inspired by new
I have let go and lost
I have held on and lost
I have been asked to change
to lie
to steal
to break hearts
and immobilise souls
yet still I held true
to a creed
built on the ruins of my sins
that we are indeed in the end
the sum of the good we create
and the kindness we gift



(a work and life in progress...)

the hogan

white paper
pinned at an uneasy pace
with unworkable words
the strokes form nonsense
and line after line
dissolve before me
dropping the haste
of my running thoughts
like litter on bitterly cold streets
for no word or words
can capture
the warmth that fills
my heart
when I merely think
of your name



(sometimes you can not write what needs to be said.... )

I love you

I love you
a sentence
just a simple sentence

some whisper it into sleepy ears
some casually throw it to appease
some drop it thoughtlessly
some fumble with its volatility
some blow their hearts to bits
some practice it in front of mirrors
some deliver it with a Shakespearean air
some deliver it through drunk and uncooperative lips
some say it through a mask of tears
some capsize it
some harbour it safely
some tame it
some bend it
some break it
some respect its mouthwatering richness
some deny it and thirst
some release it too soon
some release it too late
some make is seamless
some make it sharp

I love you
a sentence
just a simple sentence




katie

walking into
a solitary moment
with thoughts
I can only dream
of catching
that is how
I will remember you



arthur

he glances up
from life stained eyes
as he swallows his pint
and surveys the room
his mortally wounded flesh
which decays as we watch him
will only be mourned
by the dented barrels
in the damp cellars

he always pays with change
careful to discard
the silver fives that
he hates so much
he lays them in beery puddles
to annoy the tepid barman
then shuffles back to his corner seat

unhurried
uncaring
and surrounded by a generation
that will never remember him
he quietly sips to their youth
with frothy bleached lips
and open flies
for he is Old Arthur
a man whose court opens
at midday and shuts at eleven
a king whose Avalon awaits
within a pint a rough cider


(he was an old man who had worked the docks in Bristol.. he sat in the same spot in the pub for over 40 years.. we talked often and played cribbage.. and I was one of four at his funeral)

the little bang theory

"We're in this for infinity and then some." said God to his sub contractors.
"There will be problems." he added
"And my design will continually evolve!"
"So, do you still want the job?" he asked
The contractors nodded and shouted, "Yes!"
But secretly they mulled over his plans and looked at areas where corners could be cut.
"Let's make it round instead of square." said one and when God wasn't looking they all nodded.

what if

exhausted and godless
pulled from my roots
I lay at your side
admiring the gentle curves
that defend your heart
this game
your rules
so relaxed
so bold
so irreverent to love
tears me apart
every time you say
"what if?"


upon reflection

he stands near
the edge of the pool
placing negatives over the winter
it was spring then
she walked towards him
half lost in a morning mist
a man
this man
stands where he stood then
waiting for the years
to recede
to forgive
to heal
and then return him
to that morning
to that love
the days between now and then
have rolled seamlessly into one
it is only the man who changes
he waits for a while
as if he expects her to return
but in the end
he walks away alone
the image stolen
tinted
altered
and put in his pocket
for in his mind
he stands with her still






(I suppose this is love from the perspective of youth. I still savour the moment and the woman but I have to put it into the context of who we were then. Some loves are still timeless but all are worth remembering. For in the end, that we loved and were loved in return, is all that surely matters.)