I am screaming
At something
Not sure what

Thoughts for Xmas 09

My shopping list comprises of:

Wine + pastries + berries

Custard, but no animals

Presents for a lost cause,

A lost friend and an old lover

Shouldn't have, but I brought

A book of poems

They remind me of how you

Used to write to me

I still need:

A fake tree, some old songs

And some glitter to blow in your eyes

morning

The body in my arms dissolves
As I awake aloneHolding myself

Tiny boulders are running through my fingers
they fill up my pockets
and the space behind my brain.

Wonder Fall

Every time I close
My eyes I feel
Breaths of touching
Floating timeless
All across my skin

Hands are warm
In my hair
Clouds over faces
Far below
This world

Raindrops falling
From lashed Skys
Into my eyes
Don’t go far
From my eyes

Costume dancer

Do you remember me
I forget sometimes
Who I was before

Do you notice
The changes
Or is it enough
I look like her

Parties each day
Dress up and pretend
A new face
Each occasion

Sometimes I forget
Who I am this time
And which is real

Festive Bunting

I stride along beneath the festive bunting of the sky
Accordion notes resound in my ears
Small trills and major chords
Remind me of your song
The one you couldn’t remember
That dim, rainy day, the fire, the keys and you

Willow Pattern

He touched her skin and smiled,
You’re very white
He said.
She said nothing.

His fingers traced the veins
That ran along her wrist,
They look like willow pattern plates
He said.

I prefer my girls tanned
But you remind me of
Those plates in my grandmother’s house
He said.

Alabaster white with blue,
Willow trees and houses
He said.
I’m not your girl
She said.

Processing Nathaniel

One
You left and I am here
Cold and alone
Shaking with anticipation of what is to come.
Nothing left for me here.
Surrounded by your things
Comforting and familiar
Distasteful and somber
A morbid alter to your life.
Your bed provides a strange peace at this time.
The walls are closing in
Angry with my invasion.
I can’t see,
Can’t breath,
Just close my eyes,
Knowing you will wake me when it’s over.
I mustn’t scream,
Mustn’t breath,
Mustn’t cry for you.

Two
Hard sharp gasps
I’ve locked myself in
This airport bathroom
To purge my mind of you.
Want to scream
And stomp but
This airport bathroom
Is not the place for that.
So, elegantly restrained
Choked sobs of anguish
And silent tears in
This airport bathroom.


Three
I lie awake on this hard bed
Listen to the chatter of Geekos
And the abrasive hum
Of the air being frozen.
Across the world
Still thinking of you
Elaborate plans
Wishing you’d write
Wishing you’d find me here.

Four
I used to dream of you
But then
I also used to dream of;
Running in front of trucks,
Jumping off a bridge,
The one over the motorway,
The one by your house.
All things considered
I’d rather you left me alone.

Five
Whatever you think,
This is better.
I don’t do that anymore.

Windy City

So here I am in this city
Walking these streets again
At home and lonely, Safe, and lost
With wind in my heart and my hair

The wrath sun pokes holes
In the Tiramisu thick clouds
So spots of light appear
Transient warmth on this grey day

The sky spits and the cars flick dirt
While stray newspapers wrap
Themselves around legs
Hungry cats affectionate for food

The snails are all washed out
Driven to homeless wandering
Trailing their silken paths
Where the careless feet tread

Caterpillar Song

Today I talked to a cat
And a caterpillar
It crawled along its leaf and
Raised its head to me

On the corner there were
Three business men
Playing hacky sack
In the sun

The jasmine on the windowsill
Masks the smell
Less like something died in here
And the water drips from the roof
Onto the petals

Dark wood/Lost girl

Early morning.
Dark wood.
Lost girl .
Walks towards the city glow.
Jasmine lingering in the cold air.
Rotting leaves squelch, the only sound.

Warm home.
Safe light.
City noise and human smells.
People who pester.
Those who care.
She would rather be lost again.

Blackbird

There is a black bird
Nesting
In our gables.
She thinks it’s a secret,
But I can see her reflection
In the window
Of the house
Next door.

I have replaced you with a hot water bottle. It's hardly ideal, but I'll survive.

Rescue me soon

Sitting in the cold, wet slush gathering against my thighs
My body shakes with the effort, just to keep from freezing
I won’t move until you notice I am missing
So far it’s taken all my life, but you will rescue me soon

Toast

Never forget that darkened look from the girl
Who sat in the corner.
We held hands and joked,
We ate cake,
Met your friends.
She sat in the corner
With a coffee
And toast
And smiled.
A tragic look that never reached her shoulders
Or her hands.
It’s not my fault,
I didn’t know.
Not my responsibility,
Should be yours.

Don’t look behind
Although you know its there.
The darkness lurking at every turn,
Goblins in enchanted trees,
Dark and red and harsh and cold.

Blood drips.
Nails scrape.
Whispers haunt the halls.
Blinking nothings in the corners
Worming their way into reality.

Each noise judged.
Each voice assessed.
Reality or fiction?
Anxiously biting nails,
Scratching wrists
Makes the blood real.

Fighting, screaming
Turns to sobbing.
Hysterical and sane,
Keep it out and lock it in,
Shut the bad thoughts away.

Disley Street

Remember the summer on the garage roof
Too hot to move
Tar melting on winding streets
Heroic gusts of wind
One, two and the third knocks you down

Remember the nights with us alone
Watching the TV in endless cycles
Watching each other, always learning
As she fights and wins never-ending battles
We claw and scratch to get at what’s inside

Remember when this all started
You picked me up and brought me here
Away from all that before
A fortress where you can protect me
As we crouch beneath damp floorboards

Remember that first winter
When the house started falling apart
I could feel skin come off in my fingers
As the walls peeled from their frames
And we began to decay

Carlton Grove

I forget sometimes:
Legs tangled,
Summer mornings,
With sheets,
With you.

Couplets and roses and kisses and grass
Damp beneath cold morning feet
Mists rising up ‘round your nose and your mouth
Dew on eyelashes and pebbles and petals
Running to dispirit sun showers

Goodbyes and train stations and bootleg perfume
Rain and markets and sandals and scarves and wine
Narcoleptic buses in never ending circles
Movies and music and beds too small
Screaming and crying and laughing at once

Dreams in my head of missing you crazy
An idea that sticks to my mind, to my lips
Pebbles and rainclouds and summer dew fall
Squirrels and pigeons and flies that bite
And parks that lock at dusk

I'm fine

Said she was okay
Her feelings buried
Somewhere
Underneath the facts
They lurk there now
Waiting
Later they will pounce
From the shadows of her subconscious
And bite her ankles

Turquoise Sun

Your skin lingers on my fingers
As I trace the patterns on your back
Hanging slightly from your form

Your turquoise sun has faded
The ink runs from your skin
Less than welcome now

A celebration of freedom and naivety
Its meaning shifted
Sometime in the past

You toast to liberty and risk
Flaunting me in front of your friends
Confess after your fears of loneliness

Hanging between stability
And desire
You risk a lot for this

This is about you

She asked me why I was smiling
And I said I like this song.
I like the sepia pigeons and the street sweepers,
Up to their elbows in dust.
I like the rain curls in your hair:
Smoke strewn across your face.

For each of you

You smell like wet leather,
Old smoke, coffee,
Sweat,
Intermittently applied perfume,
Illicit affairs & jazz music.

You smell musty,
Like you don’t see much sun,
Sweet with the designer perfume,
Like sticky smoke and long nights out,
Like comfort and lazy mornings.

You smell of the perfumed soap
That she left in your flat,
Like summer nostalgia,
Like hard days work,
And long nights alone.

You smell like your cat
When she bathes in the sun.
Of foreign countries that call to you.
Like bouts of insomnia
And paranoia.

You smell of skin cream,
Of workouts indoors,
Of dry cleaning,
Of paranoid care regimes
To defy time.

You smell of busy clubs,
Pretty girls,
Expensive cocktails,
Foreign cologne,
And your mothers cooking.

Again

I am going insane
The circles wind in
Closer and tighter

I know all the people
They are my lovers,
Friends

I know all the streets
No longer secret
Footpaths and highways

The job changes,
But the buildings
Stay the same

The city
Once mystical
Seems drained

You're everywhere
Your perfume lingers
On the corners I walk

You've seen all my clothes
Heard all my thoughts
Do I bore you?

Mistress Revised

I would love you if I were that way inclined
But that's not something I do anymore.
I told you;
It would be easier this way,
I do things this way.
And you believed me.

I'm not liberated, no sexual hero.
I'm scared.
I'm alone.
I'm jealous.
Your bored relationship,
The lies you tell to keep it alive.

I'm your dream, your fantasy.
I'm classy, sleek.
I'm everything she's not.
Not possessive.
Not depressive.
Not as far as you know.

Yet I'm the one who's cold
And alone.
In the dark.
In my bed.
The wet between my legs
Is still warm.

You go to her
Waiting in your bed
Comforted by the thought;
Your arms,
Your warmth.
Never hearing those secrets sigh.