the wrong one

there is no soul
just a mind inhabited by fractured thoughts
replaying days
replaying words
until longing meets madness
but age tempers wisdom
until finally in the dark
pressed against a pillow
we admit to ourselves
without reservation
that there is no truth but this
light will fold into our eyes
and our desire will whisper defeat
then in the hands of time
her face will dry and crumble beneath my feet
like autumn leaves

it is the simple things

a hair tie wrapped around my chopsticks.
her knees tucked to her chest,
as Thanos clicked his fingers.
she is my haven
and she doesn't know it.

as I will never tell her.

for it is always the simple things.

paris

yellowed street light
falls across the Seine
a stranger says good evening
but I am alone in this late hour
this city is never still
this city is never silent
but she holds me
and she writes upon my heart
she knows that sleep eludes me
so she rocks me gently in her arms
my hotel
my room
my life
are gone
and as dawn falls upon me
I vanish within the light
that washes the night from the streets

the atlantic

I can hear you
and I can feel the weight
in your waves
this life is a darkness
that I yearn to leave
I could step into you
I could leave this land
and never look back
I could fall into your depths
and let this life float away
but not on this tide
nor the next

one day we will meet

one day I will leave this shore

one day

just not today

retired

I miss being a dad
I miss the loaded nappies
the first words
the first steps
the endless hugs wrapped in love
the colds and teething
the first day at school
the nights when they need you
and the moments when they pretend they don't
I miss the crayons and the "my dad" pictures
I miss the soldiers and the dolls
I miss the xmas eves
and the ransacked easter eggs
I miss it all
I want it back

I miss being a dad

old books

new pages turn
old wisdom is lost
under the weight
the pictures
the emails
the texts
the voices
the memories
bleed out
pressed together
compressed
and archived
to be lost
under the dust
of a simple love
where the characters never part
and the story never ends

marie

she will read this one day

because she will want to know

what it is that I remember about her

was it the excellent white wine

or the halls of art?
was it the stolen kiss

beneath Nelson's gaze?
or was it the missed train
and the five hour wait for the next?
was it her warmth in the bed
or the bad tequila?
was it the candlelit meals
or her inability to win at pool?

all of the above Marie

all of the above

and more

kazzie

for the love I left
I leave a note
filled with deep sorrow and regret
for the pain I caused
I leave what's left of my soul and my youth
and for the life we might have had
I leave a solitary rose on an unintended grave
in the cemetery that is now my heart

all that I know

love is a soft word
peeled from one heart
and wrapped around another
like shrink wrap

goodbye is a hard word
torn from the lips
and punched into a heart
with a jackhammer

maybe is a cruel word
poured from an indecisive mind
and dripped into a heart
like liquid hope

whatever is my word
sprayed across my heart like graffiti
and whispered in my ears
as they come

and thankfully go

sounds like loneliness

I spend my nights listening to music
I just lay there in the dark
listening to a piano or a cello
losing myself in the melody
I drift above the quarter notes
and the softer pianissimo
but sometimes I let go
and dive beneath the clefs
and quarter notes
I swim beneath the chords of my loneliness
and the empty rhythm in my heart
for I know in that silence I will find her face

and my smile