pain

Ageing

You avoid the sun
Etching lines on
Your skin. You are
The artist, not the sun.

Eat, Sleep, Work, Repeat

These feel like the end days

Of life. The sun, the moon,

The clouds that move, the

Train that stops at every stop

And then goes back again.

The cyclists in the queue

At the traffic lights, leading

South. How long it feels, this

March to death, this mess of

Locks and wheels and limbs

That we call civilisation. How

Vile the stench of sweating

Plastic and half-eaten sandwiches

Discarded in the wrong section

Of the bin, into general rubbish

Claustrophobia

What do we do when there
Is no space to breathe?
When our lungs can’t hold 

The water in our eyes
And it comes rushing

Out amongst these
Crocodiles that bite

Us. There’s no such thing
As love, our limbs think, 

As our blood cracks back,
Retreats into our heart,

For home, but the door
Is locked and the ventricles

Glare back, blank
Windows harbouring the

Eternity of Death
That lurks behind

Every breath. Ready
To pounce out like

a cat released to go
Hunting in the bird-

Filled night that
Quacks around us in

A cacophony of quarks
We can’t decipher as

Our hands go numb
With stress and our 

Hips contract around
Our basal strength

As it pours out
Uncontrollably and

Meanwhile where is
The chair? We haven’t 

Sat down for so long
We can’t remember

What rest means.
Be still, remember

It is always there
However far away

It seems, if we
Just stop to reclaim

The space around each breath.

Girl begging on the tube

Every step a struggle
Every word a prayer for
It to stop, every blink

Caked in cheap mascara,
Every thread of jean
Grabbing at hunger aching

In the hips and knees
Under the floating breakers
Washing round the hollows
Of her emptied heart

Quantum Faith

As sure as fire is hot,
Moons move. The thing I am now will

Swap places with another

All is equal at the sun atomic level.
No questioning reality,
Expect it of anything

Time is constant, possibly.
Some stars have made it to our eyes in

An everlasting instant

Ox eyes

image

Vision trapped behind
Teeth, grinds on whatever ‘s
Beneath, above

Planets spur seasons,
Scoop it up, horned
Halos turn earth 

Seed upon seed for
Darkness to choose who
Will see the dawn.

I’m not friends with you on Facebook

This means you have me as I am now and not via the tracks I have taken and

The dust that’s fallen on former versions of myself, hanging up in

The gallery that is my life , is me,
My curation

My soul’s memories of myself and others and

I envy myself, the places I have been and the fun I have known – never alone, never unhappy,

Never a crooked smile, unless I request my deleted items be undeleted

Instant change

Today I got double vision
And then it disappeared after
I gave away all my coins

Today I had a headache and crowding
Teeth and they eased after
I gave away all my coins

Today, I bought three hot chocs
From three different vendors –
Ate an apple with each.

I avoided potatoes and tomatoes and Tried to delete some habitual thoughts and guilt

Today was not the best day nor the worst day but it could have been better but then I forget

The double vision that came and went,
The headache and teeth,

If these had stayed, who could I be?
No capacity to look out and look in, in Comfort

Thanks to ‘Give your spare change to a good cause’ for the great deal.

Today was as all days, the best day, the Only way on, wherein everything that ever was or is, will be.

Paradise to and fro

You think you’ve taken a step on
And it’s real, it feels right and yet
Cannot be tested against experience
It’s too new, not comparable.  

And so you surmise there’s no going back
Or round again, from this there is no return To the land of mist and fog and repeating seasons
This is a bit of the new world where the
Heat is always on and the people are always hot,
Like Tahiti.

And you think Yes, I’ve done it, I’ve let go of it all,
The past, the chains, the blame, the hates, the likes and
Lives and loves and that bloody whirr of helicopters taking
Sleep to A and E.  

Then, from this, this paradise, this wonderland where
Everything in your body and soul works like the most pitch-perfect
Beachboy song, you find that every now and then the
Coconuts sound like the old doubts and your vision blurs
Like Eve’s and everything you eat hooks your soul like bait.  

And so you swim and strive and spit and row out as far as you
Can while you spit and sweat and burn and raw your hide and
Hide your anger from the beauty and the sky everywhere  smiling back at you.

Lullaby, no added sugar

Word jar I wish I
Could jam my way
Through

Like a jazz musician
Feeling akin to
Misery in beats

Tipping top lip and
Sticking toes’ curlable
Bits to the very

Top tips of sweaty
Sox from the drum
Hum of the streets

Word jar, I wish I
Could jam my way
Out…