Squeeze
When you squeeze my hand like that
I Have to Let Go.
Electricity soars through me, through our shared reactor.
When you remind me that you fell in love with my words,
When I implore, and you murmur to me:
I will help you
Before joining your open face to mine; the street disappearing around us, the ground beneath us, the time between us.
When you sit me down in a public house and
draw me near to catch the last moments of our now-love before the train.
Time being sifted, leaving only chaff blustering into the wind, into time’s shifting.
I am not needy.
But when you reach out your arms to me offering me your unfailing help without any ask,
I suffer sweet relief, resting in your invulnerability for a while.
Rescued for a moment.
Then later I write poems to myself to appease the loneliness,
The poignant nothing of your not-being-here.
Silence even in cyberspace.
You are not mine to love.
Harmony for you is in your home, and
Whilst I stare into your son’s eyes from afar,
Spheres on a screen –
Aqua-blue – as he stares at you,
I cannot crossover the infinite pastures of your equilibrium,
Nor trample upon your fertile streets.
I didn’t used to care that there was no-one there.
Then you came along, romantic affair,
A safety of sorts.
Making me feel something because you force upon me your care.
Protective father, unfaithful husband, abounding lover.
Someone Else’s Daddy, Someone Else’s Lover, not made for me.
My name not on your label.
————
*S*T*A*R*S*
Cos I love you, and it’s not a passing thing
You sleep in the sea, he said
I sleep in the road
How did you lose your thai smile?
Through the floodgates of joy, tears also flow
It’s so hard to leave
I can see us out there
Stars like angels
Night years apart
You sleep in the sea, he said
I sleep in the road
—–
Ode to Bowl
Oh Bowl!
You were shallow
But I poured into you and
you filled me up –
BOWL
How could you leave me?
– I awoke one day and you just
Weren’t there any more. Missing from my morning. No sunset glint from your simple reflection.
Now I’ll never know but I can’t help but
Wonder;
Are you laying somewhere, empty like me:-
or are you laying in someone else’s lap, covered in their guilty gravy?!
Are you lusciously letting them lap it up, bowl? Letting their greasy delights slip into your tarnished crevices?
Or are you quite alone, bowl, crying out in the night:
“HUMAN! Why do you sup from me no more?!”
—–
Lost Love
When I eat meat in tins I think of you when I reach out with dirty paws to grab a stained glass I think of you
and it’s not even half empty
I think of you
When I play innocent son by the fleet foxes in the pub because I’m drunk and have taken over the boozing world I think of you
When I see the news on telly and don’t understand it I think of you
I think of you and these are the things I think of you and I wish I could write poetry more like the beat poets when they say “you are only as far from me as thoughts are from thinking”
My lost love, I think of you x
—–
Et Guillaume, like the splashing of the waves are you in my mind – constantly there yet constantly falling away from me
sliding under the current and away into my subconscious
waiting for the surprise your face would bring
you may not be the tsunami of my life
but your ripples remain on my surface
—–
Udaipur
on the eve of gangaur the sky broke
the thunder came and lightning struck down
the lizards came to rest in my witches haven
the begrudging rain stubbornly fell upon the lake
with full but unsatisfied belly I sipped my cinnamon milk
still only a thin layer of rain refuses to quench the arid wasteland
I can hope for more, but settle for less.
uninteresting humans stuff their holes, eyes not registering the transaction
a mosquito declares battle with my covered body
nearing drums and bells provide a dramatic soundtrack to the non-action
periodically I repeat the mantra; ‘do not force octopussy on me again’
and at last the rain thumps down upon the tin roof
soothe our souls, save our souls, cleanse our palates
—–
Tragic Love Affair
Tragic love affair
Let’s not break the silence just
See you everywhere
Whatever there is, it’s still there
For me it’s love – for you despair
Coming down on the double
Withdrawal beats trouble
Tragic love affair
Confines our selves to what is there;
For me it’s hope – for you, despair
—–
Ts and Cs
Though we haven’t set out our terms and conditions
My days full of doubt produce dark premonitions
I have kept my manual but lost the guidelines
And my freedom pass has been kicked to the sidelines.
I time travel to you in the quiet hours
I find you there on our distant star
When the daylight comes the truth sets in
There is no launchpad for this spaceship we’re in.
And though I’m holding onto you and you’re holding onto me
There’s no premise, no room, there’s nothing here to see
Should have kicked off my heels in the carriage home
But now I’m very much with you still, and very much alone
—–
Four legs good, two legs bad
Physically flinching at the rasping overeager lanky mistake of an embryo
As he comes to my desk, all bent in the wrong directions
I dart about for cover but they’ve all abandoned
He says “oi’ve, oi fink oi’ve got a telly. Where’s parfways?”
I wince inside I twist and scream and want escape from human form
“I do not deal with property”. Coldly staring he is dismissed without command.
He is not impressed. But he is more impressed than me with he –
Though an impression he has left, chiselled, embossed on the upper edge of my work-soul
Pumice stone nonexistent till 5 thirty o clock.
Pumice stone of sulphite wine
substitute for opiate
three days my get-out clause
four days my downfall
four days my prison wall
three days my arsenal
waging war in working day
wishing death on compatriots
pushing peace to go my own way
a junkie for time, a slave to the clock
—–
Poem for Laura
Still the pain of love lingers on
When I look at you looking at him
I can see how much it hurts
Falling into what you’re in
Still.you.strive.on.
It’s what you’ve gotta do to get to the finish line
Only love has no end
So you climb every mountain
But the summit’s out of sight