July 2010
21 posts
Porthcothan Bay at Night
Here, on wet grains, the sea wipes sand like rain across glass. They sit under a tartan rug hands down pants, fondling as the fire cracks and chatter spit-spurts between dark silhouettes and ghoulish uplit faces. They squeeze and pretend that nothing is happening. Tonight, people leave, one by one, and they remain alone with the sea, gunblack, which throws and turns, a humongous...
“A girl once told a guy that it was okay to lie in poetry.
She told him, he told...”
Cold summer, late August 2008. You called me...
Loud, Quiet, Wingclipped Fallen
Said loudly this is as quiet as God sitting with his mates in the pub. Gagfaced. Staring into mirrored nothingness. A lot of the time, ignored. Like, crazy bus lady or the man on the 43 who tells everyone how he’ll murder Chelsea fans. The guy outside Café Nero talks to himself gets angry, fights with himself he always seems so lonely. Once asked him for a light and he...
Cold Summer Night in Late August, 2008
Cold summer, late August 2008. You called me horrible things, cried and crumbled in front of me on this little video screen on my laptop where we’d shown each other everything grinned and meant nothing and all things. The window ached in front of me, wind exploding my cigarette into fireworks of dull ash. I watched and made the angles of light right so that I looked more distinct, the guy you...
Thinking Infinity
Beerdrunk, rummed I thought this, afterwards drained, overhung, wrote this thinking infinity, all the days to tread till I meet you. All the miles walking together around kitchens, homes and show rooms clutching our Tesco/Morrisons/Waitrose-trolley-full-dreams. Swearing whilst our kids watch us, getting in a huff over what type of juice is good. I’m young; I’m old, still thinking this. Every...
1 tag
Strangers
We exchange eyes. Silent peeled hellos dangle in mid air. Don’t ask names ghosts, we’re too shy to speak. Offer up a smile. Look down. Walk on.
Cheerio, cheery-ha.
I’m off.
Off for a holiday of sorts.
By holiday I mean a festival, so I won’t have an internet connection except my phone so I sorely doubt you’ll be having poems sparking out into the ether every day (or other day as lately seems …). I’ll be back soon enough. I have good news, on the 30th, 31st and 1st (or only one of those days we don’t really know yet)...
Somewhere the Other Side of Tomorrow
Reading this your smile’s been stolen by a shadow, winterstitched dressed in sorrow, plastering pain over compassion. Your shoeshined eyes all buckled-dull in a monochromed world in a knowhowwhen somewhere the other side of tomorrow. Throatchoked-gagging. Listen. I’ve been you. Broken, in a greylit youth know it’s hard when you feel so young-old. Lost. Timecracked, out of...
Take
I take your name, a gift-tag noosed around my neck. I am yours. Everyone, even strangers, know blank unrequited looks. Scribbled shopping list you dropped. Full meaning-throbbed. And sodden. Fingers tangle through handwriting branches. Bus stop’s our stop. Street’s our street. I fall and trip over memory roots deepbedded and rotting. Take your name, a gift-tag noosed...
Fucking Love
Ell. Oh. Vee. Eee. Love— ‘is a human right’ rumbledandtumbled minds, ‘making’ it no matter what. Unconditional, fickle, mad and forgiving. It changes more than politics less stable than economics hits inside gnaws at it feral Chihuahua screamin’ till you beat it off with a stick. Until you beat your stick. Just as hard to forget as your own name, even when you want to, so much. ...
Morning
I’ll leave the sheets as you abandon them, unmade, twisted. Keep the last kiss you give me, silent, rough with yearning. Hold the darkness of night as we talk, the blacks, whites of stars. Forever. Won’t eat to keep you in my mouth or drink to have you there, in my throat. I’ll let the room remain still, not stagnant but fostering. Growing. Daylight would smash it...
The Sadness Skies
December 2007 What makes a dreamer dream or fills them with dreams that cannot be … sky-washed, earth-dried, fire-brushed wishes, aims, ambition: “A wrinkle on the brain somewhere.” I woke up today and the sky was sad with me lying there on my cradle-bed. Pewter seems, these days, far too oft’ a cliché, with its grey-dark-black mourning garb and solid-slate-tears ...
Bluetack
I have a lonely place in my skull, at the back all covered in bluetack. From where I’ve taken down photos of you.
4 tags
Dom, Jackie & You
Weeks of bubbles’n’babble people gobbed’n’gabbled. Spit-spooled remains in pint glasses on bars. Piss stained carpets smudged mascara, greased and bare. Hugs, held in till they burst. Heads touched and leant Siamese twins born again. Hands jigsawed in pyjamas recounting children-book experiences all grim and dark and unchildy. Five-hundred stubbed cigarettes ...
8 tags
I Walk The City At Night To Find You.
I walk the city at night to find you. Clockworked-wind-up-feet carry me on buses, through alleys, away from crowds. Absent, I drift, night time’s a clown rubbing off its make-up. Every face yours: this is you sad this is you happy this is you black old straight. I walk and walk and walk buildings are trees there’s no GPS or breadcrumbs for a beating heart. I sit by the...
6 tags
Bugged!
I’m sure I’ve talked about Bugged before, they’ve been asking people to eavesdrop on people today and write pieces of poetry/prose/drama around their ill-gained quotes. Although I moved house today and christened the sofa with a three-hour nap I managed to hear two tiddly tidbits which will become some kind of fiction in due course:
Mum, how do you become a wizard?
and
...
