Monday, 19 October 2015

Remember Louis

Remember Louis

"What a wonderful world" from one place to 'nother 
A memory flashes past on gently plucked string
Taken back, aback with emotion
A native moment 'mongst most foreign a time
Familiarity that's family when there's no one else you know
And contentment struck in every chord
Floating smiles past tired eyes: Past lives that feel so real.  

Each noteful moment itself is multiplied
Hope now squared, welling in each eye
Homely tones of yesterday's love 
Seep through my skin to calm the storm
My fears cooled by tears, wept in only okayness 
A deep breath to drink those final bars
Before the wonderful world again is less.

Sunday, 6 September 2015

On the train home from Cambridge...

On the train home from Cambridge...

Friendship that doesn’t speak
Only eyes that look on the written word.
The knowing know that transcends all bullshit
Months of absence; absent bout nought.
Scribbled lives, connecting lines
Connected wires – left idle; unspoken.
Debts of gratitude
 From despair worn over years,
Happiness refreshed in minutes
Blessed with communion and beautiful views.

A spy to my soul, caretaker extraordinaire:
My unsung, undone, unused hero
Whose only idea can soothe my heart.
Perfectly flawed – never needed to be fixed
Only loved, and adored, adorned with new life.
New hope, new loves
New laughs and old conversation.
The perfect pair
For me; from you

Perfect love, I thought I could only imagine. 

Saturday, 22 August 2015

Ode to Butlins

Butlins, Skegness

Home to the circus where hope has come to die
to die, to sleep, no:
Never to sleep perchance to give up on dreams.
To sit in a white tent watching has-beens in red
Hang on to "beings" in polyester.
It is a world of mediocre, cheap thrills, expensive rooms
Soaked in ambivalence, an apathy for ambition.
Everyday lingers, languishing in reality
Megaphones that pale and meals that make you paler.
Disillusioning doubles, in two by twos
By twos by infuriating boos.
Uninterested stares, personality wears and grinds 
To the point no person should go. 
Where the fun never stops;
It never began, begun, begins...
Opened with a bang... Closes with a phifffff!

Friday, 7 August 2015

The dreaded poem

The dreaded poem

I can’t write any words today
My pen is empty of the invisible ink that tells my secrets.
Old man language, my oldest friend fails me:
Words will not comfort, just sit brazen on the page
Mocking as I search for the one that is right:
They simply hurt me, my bones, my teeth, my legs.

I can’t form letters today
There is no beauty in a world too used to such a loss.
No metaphor or simile can help me right now
They won’t sooth the pain that burns as ember
Or fill the vacuous cavern you left when we parted:
They just hurt me, my fingers, my cheeks, my toes.

I can’t speak my thoughts today
No ideas will come - none wanted, only peace.
The frivolity of clever syntax offends my very soul
You’ve gone too long, too soon, taken too far
To a place I can't see, can’t believe, won’t conceive:
Because they hurt me, my hair, my skin, my eyes.

I can’t feel today, can’t let that happen
All that’s left is to restart the countdown for yet another year.
Alliteration reeks of apathy, and rhyme, it but spits in this face of mine.
Clichés of sleeping, dreaming, watching from the next room,
From a better place and always in still in my heart:
Bring me nothing but hurt, my insides, my tears, my sorrow.

I can’t write this poem today
I don’t want to; don’t want to write anything anymore.
It hurts too much, it's hurt for too long -
My heart, my soul, my head:
Because however many times I write this poem
To you Muv, it will never be read.

Saturday, 1 August 2015

My sad in Budapest, my aching treasure chest

My sad in Budapest, my aching treasure chest

Familiar sound in unfamily surroundings
An unknown reason, no need to rhyme
Sad for its own sake,  amongst a shusshéd laugh and awkward stares.
In the company of infantile smiles; a friendship that’s true
Comforted banter in the face of distant absence
Through miles that can’t be quenched by honesty and wine.

But still the sad is still sad
Closer to my eyes , burning with undeserving tears
Feeling realer in my bones, weighing heavy on my heart.
It’s always darkest just before the dawn
But this pinhole eclipse has surprised my soul
And a sad-drop wells, sighing slowly - falling unwanted.

Opposites attract and so joy meets its pair
Sorrow bubbles, and giggles, and spills out of the cracks
It’s here: in there - still where it always was.
But this is not my sad, not my song - not today
This isn’t from now for how I am in this moment
This is a sad hangover, hung over shadows I wish didn’t belong.

Unruly: Unloved: Un-nurtured

Forgotten children, begotten of neglect,
Mothered by ambivalence -
Of who’s society’s afraid.

Do unto others…
Unto others…
Unto others, until we’re undone.
But which others, what mothers?
-          What goes around will still come.
A product of your surroundings,
Of everything you see.
You don’t know of fair, or faith,
Or unconditional care;
Kindness is a stranger you avoid in the street.
Fated to a role: they act, therefore you are.
Pushed into corners, lost time in mauve embraces,
Your only choice arrives: To fight or make flight…
But neither comes to soothe loneliness’ bite.

Forgotten children, begotten of neglect,
Mothered by ambivalence -

Of whom I’m not afraid.

Tuesday, 20 January 2015


“I really do miss you,”
“And I do too”
Words so much too said,
What it means is never read.

I miss your voicemail message
And how I feel at your missed your call,
I want you to demand from me, ask too much of me
Talk about your day to me, when I didn’t ask.

I miss the smell of you: miss the safety of two
The everything will be ok as long as I still have you.
I want to talk to you, walk next to you
Get annoyed at you when you whenever I want to.

I miss sitting next to you, being close to you
Hearing your voice and knowing I’m here with you.
I’m tired of missing you, can’t stop wishing for you
But not only you, not only now,
Too much, too many, too far, still, but how?

Monday, 5 January 2015

5th January; Be gone

Two dates to dread,
Two poems to write
Two loved ones too missed
In a world that will never be right.
Too many memories lost
Unmade, unhad
Unremembered moments
Too far away to remain.
Numbers that will only grow
Dates and years
Unversaries that should never be known.
Another heinous day of sadness and sorrow
That steals my happiness today and tomorrow.
Oh day of pain
Sheer shock untamed
Please leave my heart, just let me be
Let tomorrow come: let the grief be done
No more!

Be gone!