Today was better,
These rules came to me,
In a different order, longer
Originally, but I carved
Them down, to be
Universal, like Moses,
On the Met line to Watford,
Clear now, about how
Miracles occur.
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
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.
Being Every Day 