a day in the life of my heart

there are worlds forming

around the moments I lock in my heart

there are loves and lovers

there are places, storms and blinding sunlight

there are seasons of gold, white and green

their music ingrains my soul

and now as the moments fall around me

and as I perceive the seconds as days

and the minutes as years

I understand my relationship with time

it was always just a journey

and it was always just mine

8th May 2010

she lives in a tear

she comes to me in the early hours
in that moment where dawn washes past the eyes
and evicts the dreams
there was a day I never forget
we sat together in a summer field
drinking cider and ruminating over our love
we planned our tomorrows with military precision
but we never saw our fates peel apart
and I never saw or imagined her ending
I went back to that place once
I sat in that field and I talked to her
as I left I turned around and looked at that moment
out of time and space
had I known that was our last day
I would have never let her go

katie part 2

katie,
I have been married,
divorced
and in out of love,
since you left.
I have children and
they look like me, katie,
but they don't like me.
I have had success
and I have known failure
both in unequal measure.
but I keep moving forward, katie.
I really don't know any more
than that.
growing up
has been a mixture
of pain and joy.
but I have lived, katie
and you still own moments
in my life.
I often close my eyes
and remember you.
I don't believe in gods, katie
and I know you can't hear me.
but I carry you with me
and I always will.
I owe you that,
in lieu of the life
you never had.



(Katie, was a young girl that I met as a young boy. She was in a wheelchair and her life was short. I remember her asking me to be her boyfriend. Embarrassed, I pulled away..... and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think.. I should have said, "ok".)

double bed blues

I am half
a less than generous portion
laying between
these distant edges
awashed and lost within
an ocean of Egyptian cotton
but sometimes in peaceful nights
before I embrace my dreams
I look to my left and
imagine it filled with a sleepy smile
and eyes that hold a key
to dispersing the shadows
that surround me

art

we wander halls
surrounded by Rembrandt and Vermeer
I watch you laugh
at the fools encasing Gogh's pain
within Facebook selfies
yearning for loves and likes
then caught by an old sunrise
I turn and see the brush strokes in your hair
and those varnished lips
that frame your smile
of all the works of art
in this world
for me
in that moment
there was only one

the paper defence

you only have to
touch my armour
and it disappears
you only have to
whisper my name
and I will kneel
in defeat
all that I would
fight and die for
lays like dry parchment
in your palm
you only have to
close it
and I am dust

the love note

the pen

traces the words

on my lips

the paper becomes a witness

your eyes my judge

your heart my jury

pieces

my heart

was broken

your hands

were all that held it

together

in this heart

there are tears here
and laughter that still hurts my sides.
there is my daughter's voice
and my son's infectious laugh.
there's a first love,
found in a school disco;
as blondie talked about hearts of glass.
in the shadows there are goodbyes,
some final,
all painful.
but there are fresh first kisses here too
and stale drunken promises
that were broken before they were spoken.
I have a thousand and one faces
from twenty thousand days.
there are places torn from context
and buried in the amber of time.
half forgotten jokes
and fragments of memories,
that twist themselves
into my dreams like knives.
but this heart knows me
better than I know myself.
for when I am weighed down
by doubt or loneliness.
it reminds me that there is still space to fill
and the time to fill it.

my lament

she was my mother.
as a child I recall
her dressing me
and brushing my hair before school.
she even flattened a cowlick once
with the quick lick of her thumb.
there was always food on my plate
and a warm bed.
christmas was pillow cases full of toys
and easter was a wall of chocolcate eggs.
I used to sneak into their bedroom some nights
and sleep between them.
my mum.
my dad.
he is gone now.
reduced to ashes in a box.
whilst she just sits there.
her mind wiped of memories.
her stare empty of recognition.
one is dead.
one is missing.
but both are gone.