You climbed a tree and looked down at me.<\/p>\n
You spoke with your face.<\/p>\n
I could see. You weren’t happy at all.<\/p>\n
I had risen my voice. It didn’t feel like my choice.<\/p>\n
I walked away. Like this was a play.<\/p>\n
But this was no act.<\/p>\n
You didn’t want to know. What you already knew.<\/p>\n
My temper had torn our bond apart. Left holes in our hearts.<\/p>\n
So I wrote to you. ‘We can see this through.’<\/p>\n
There was nothing to see.<\/p>\n
You built yourself a new home. A new start.<\/p>\n
So in the heat I lay. Wishing for a new day. By the tree where you looked down at me.<\/p>\n
I fear few know you. But what it is to be known? To hold faith that this dream is no dream at all. Possibly.<\/p>\n
Your golden potential unravels day by day. An untouched block of wood being carved notch by notch. It is my melancholy pleasure to watch this process. It gives me life.<\/p>\n
Such a gift is yours to give. But does it loosen our ties or make them stronger? That depends on my stubborn mind. My ongoing boredom and hypnotic drudge.<\/p>\n
I want some motivation to continue my activity. You provide this. I am receptive in spurts. Like a bird flying high for a view I leave the shackles of this land momentarily. Wishing you were up here with me, you are, you are the sky.<\/p>\n
(I want you to tear this to shreds.)<\/p>\n
* * *<\/p>\n
I can be your nothing. The thing in your life that doesn’t really matter. A background feeling. An underlying thought pattern. A goose with orange striped eyelashes.<\/p>\n
While your everything comes and goes I am there. Washing dishes on a cold day. A cooling breeze on a hot one. Repositioning things on the mantle. A horned lemon with a sweet sweet tangy syrup dressing.<\/p>\n
With all the potential I stay still; rarely showing any form. A shadow flickering in candlelight. The feeling of ‘what shall I do now?’ An unexpected hand gesture. A silken scarf with an image of Delia Derbyshire riding a resplendent golden moose represented by colourful sequins.<\/p>\n
Time makes the highs low and the lows high.<\/p>\n
The esteemed are just the flavour of the month. Change occupies all.<\/p>\n
Ambition at an all time low but I feel bliss sat next to a cat.<\/p>\n
Adapt to the situation don’t try to change it to fit you.<\/p>\n
Water dips and flows into every crevice of the rocky sea shore but is slowly shaping the hard, strong cliff wall.<\/p>\n
If you are like that, you are life sustaining, the lowest of low, making all those around you feel high.<\/p>\n
Feed your friends and treat them well and they will return the favour. A painted glass teardrop can mean a thousand things. It can be treasure. It can be crap. The value is not in the pieces you hold; it is inside of you.<\/p>\n
A tic is an sudden, repetitive, voluntary response to an unwanted urge. It is our way of measuring time.<\/p>\n
Sitting by the lake. You are by my side. Looking at the cotton sky mirrored in the fisherman’s playground; a thought enters my head. I turn to you to whisper my idea but you are not there.<\/p>\n
I watch the grass grow at the side of my blanket. Bees and flies pass by; secure in the summer’s plentiful bounty. I can’t help but feel powerless. Possibilities number too many and decisions too far away.<\/p>\n
A cold breeze blows so I pack up my things. Leaving all as it was. If I could get you here would you even share this pleasure that hits my chest. Short and sharp, painful like a spasm, yet warm and reassuring. I feel better.<\/p>\n
I thought I heard your voice but it is just a bird alarmed that I am nearby. Walking on the way back I see a kaleidoscope of colour on the graffiti mural on the side of the shop. I am steps away from you and my heart begins to pound.<\/p>\n
Key in the door and the room lights up. Cat greetings with a purr and demand for food. Although just a roof over my head; the place smells of comfort. This is your welcome and I am back inside you once more. I am home.<\/p>\n
Take me away from this night sky I’ve inhabited for so long.<\/p>\n
Withstanding wind and all kinds of atmospheric tension.<\/p>\n
A shout from my past scars seeping works of sap into being.<\/p>\n
I will leave a bare branch but it is in my bark my legacy lies.<\/p>\n
Textured hope and virtue exceeding a butterfly’s beat.<\/p>\n
Leaving the deceptive darkness let me live through the pure spring breeze.<\/p>\n
A two fold cycle we’ll ride until we are within each other.<\/p>\n
Laying my roots down in your garden. I’m sorry if I’m irresponsible.<\/p>\n
I feel like I’m dreaming. Stable and still. In silence I’ll think of you.<\/p>\n
Trying not to upset your environment. I’ll breathe oxygen if you need it.<\/p>\n
Will I get visiting wildlife? Maybe that will change my course. Certainty is distant.<\/p>\n
Cold comes from the North and East in these parts. Memories will come and go.<\/p>\n
The sun can heal your trauma. I don’t want to cause you to suffer.<\/p>\n
Though trees bleed and leaves fall down life pushes us forward again and again.<\/p>\n
Is it enough to share and appreciate the good things that happen?<\/p>\n
Endings are inevitable. As the new day rolls in; I do not know what will be.<\/p>\n
You climbed a tree and looked down at me. You spoke with your face. I could see. You weren’t happy at all. I had risen my voice. It didn’t feel like my choice. I walked away. Like this was a play. But this was no act. You didn’t want to know. What you already knew. … Continue reading Untitled Poems<\/span>