An idea, a thought
like so many lives
lost to conformity.
Difference is far off
like those memories:
a scatter cushion
faded red from the years
or that curious conversation
about the touch of a lover.
Time is almost still
but the shadows still move
yet this can’t be seen happening.
Why is this happening?
What cruel creature
on Tuesday plays Candy Crush
yet on Wednesday breaks my heart?
When you played me that song
that’s when I first knew
the ending was coming too soon
(going to come?)
A paper bag filled with popcorn
and fingers smelling of salt;
I sat in class listening to
a god’s voice telling me about our minds –
a public session with a professional;
but the seat next to me empty
except for a cut in the blue cushioned seat
shaped curiously like a question mark
(or was it an exclamation?)
The sun hurt my eyes as I sat in the traffic
but I could still see the car in front.
It’s only when water filled my eyes I knew
(before I got glasses the tears
welled and I could see again through them).
Prescriptions from Prof. Dr. Dr’s…
I just wish they’d prescribe me some rest.
You love it when I write you a sweet love poem,
but rage scarlet when I smash you like limestone
with my shiny words and these strange metaphors…
We fell like Icarus, hubris was the cause.
I saw your lusty list of your past lovers,
I was but one under your starched white covers.
Staring at the city with you – I felt whole.
Now I’m left with pepperminted loneliness and paracetamol.
How does it feel to be free from my millstone?
Read between these coloured-in rhymes: there lies my tone.
Now you’ll see me in the shadows of the full moon,
surreptitiously shining on your bed: we died too soon.
As he sits down at the bus stop
and glances at his watch –
a bus pulls up.
He looks: B4.
It’s familiar, he’s seen it before
but he knows it’s not his.
When will the bus come?
Waiting… For a bus
that might not come.
Feet start tapping.
Sighs start escaping.
Patience starts flickering.
The wind blows,
A napkin, stained, flitters to his feet
like a butterfly learning to fly.
“Love needs faith”
written in black ink across one corner.
A bus suddenly pulls up.
The doors open.
A hand reaches out.
His smile reaches in.
He takes his hand.
flittering above the river &
between the overgrowth,
floating, naïve to these contemplations.
Explosions of noise on those fragile wings;
the air tastes of dark blue misery.
Yet you’re so peaceful
in the Garden of Eden
before the Fall of Man…
Before Man became man.
Come here, sweet beauty!
Stay a while.
No, don’t try escape my clasp!
Here, let me
those wings off!
Let me tear up.
Death begets Life;
Life begets Death.