That Day

That Day

This is the day, the day it comes:
The day that second, that brings these tears
Writes these words, takes all my strength
Repeats in this world.

This is the day I see your face,
Empty, unmoving – your face but not you.
It’s the day I let real in my heart
A burden too great, a thought too hard,
Until it comes with pained reverence
- That second


I remember the moment - it killed me too.
Took from me what I’d never know
Stole memories old and new. 
Removed my life to a place we never shared
But nothing waited, nothing cared.

The water boiled and the sun went down.
Flowers grew, watered with tears
- An incessant rain that taps on my heart
Like the sound of a clock that never stopped...
Not even for a second. That second,
This one.
Today.

Mother's Commute

Mother’s Commute

Look at me Mama!

- I’m looking at my phone

But I want you to look at me

- Stop distracting me please

Can I see? Whatcha doing?

- I said, don’t touch.

Look at me Mama!

- I just got a message

Who is it? For me?

- It’s private, don’t do that.

Can I tell you something Mama?

- I’m busy, don’t speak

Look at me Mama!

- I’m talking to someone

Can you talk to me now?

- Only when I’m done

School was fun today

- Good, now don’t move.

Do you love me Mama?

- Of course I do.

Will you look at me now?

- I see you child, but I’m busy

Ok Mama but…

- But what I’m –

I’m all grown up now.

But Today...

 

But today…

I knew pain, I’d lost, I’d wept

I knew helplessness and hopes abandon; but today…

 

I knew wringing my hands, my heart of tears

Tearing down my life, clouding every breath

Each long inhale taking the misery deeper in my being

A figure stood alone; but today… I cannot breathe.

 

I’d picked myself up, worked hard for every smile

Kept warm on only memory, the remembrance of joy

I carried on, pushed forward against the world

With all my self, my will; but today… I’m strong no more.

 

I knew of unfair hands, pure hearts unravelling without cause

Too soon: taken too far, too cruelly from them they love

I thought I was safe, my scars, they were healing…

And then today…Today, again…

 

 

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.

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. 

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. 
Butlins:
Where the fun never stops;
It never began, begun, begins...
Opened with a bang... Closes with a phifffff!

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.