Thursday, September 29, 2011

Skull with a Memory...

De-oxygenated and stale
There is the smell of stillness;
Only now is it clear,
These are dreams in death.
I lie in wait, each synopsis- slower
Will, once I am gone, time stow these captions
In an envelope....?
No. Time has no purpose but to march dutifully on
For the next life to appease,
Document.... and radiate.
A millenia before me, there was nothing
No sign of my 'coming'
...and once I'm lain to rest,
All pockets will be emptied and washed
Waiting for the warm change of another.
I am a locust at times, to myself-
A plague of the ages
Eating away at the heels
The quicksand of today.
...and like Time, I too- am dutifully bound...
To forever remind and resemble in thought
That pissing away these delicate seconds
As they form the hours of who I am
...and the way I am living...
Must be whispered in cantata-like form
To arouse a gentle persuasion
That before I dimple further and
Skin shies from want of touch-
I should touch and be touched
While there is yet,
A kindling in the eyes.
Dormant days I have kept
Slagging away at my delicate needs
I shall make up for lost time
Once my mind sets free the notion
Hoping too at some point-
That without effort,
The drapes of circumstance will part without warning
Introducing new life into emptied, echoing halls
Where wings long flutter,
Yet seldom are heard.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

...beyond measure

The weathered heart is weightless
Though the leather exterior is tough, puncture looms
And yet for all my ramblings, Love still courses through
Stitched and restitched, woven- wild
The drills of days previous lighten in intensity
Forgiveness now claims their aftertaste.
I shag the dead weight of yesterday
Whether I moved an inch or ten
Today's muscle is unique to this moment
I commandeer that instant any way that I can
Some days less tough, some days- more
My compass has wiggle room
Even when I curse its bastard mistakes.
I split myself in two, the stronger Soul- made stronger
The weaker... slumped over and still
The two shake from this departure,
-each from the loss of the other
And two steps out from that cocoon of 'self'
Toes turn and reunite...
Stronger strength and weaker deficiencies
They are bonding further;
Tighter, useful...clean.
Console yourself in times of trouble
Be the back and the burden
United in hope.
This idea of 'One'
Holds appeal beyond measure.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

The 'If'.

I'm cornered, concerned
Fixated on 'direction'
Any...? Which...? Where...?
I have roles to play,
Standards to meet
...and vices that need smashing
Yet here I am today,
Bound by nothing but a circumstance
A number, a name... A 'case'.
I want nothing of these things,
No assistance, no freebie, no handout
I want emotional sustenance
Reinforced confidence and especially-
Especially security.
I want to grab ahold of 'The Right Thing'
And swing it high into the sunshine
How plausible is this wish...
Its foundation will run as thick and sturdy as I create it to be.
I pair to no one in this lifetime
I am my own private entity,
And though this ship of one gets lonesome-
I have but myself to blame
When the going gets tough.
I rely on me and having said that...
I set about working on the the 'when'
As opposed to the 'if'

Tuesday, September 20, 2011


Skin too, emits memory
Scent billows, wafting through past
Yesterday's echo delights once more-
Potent though invisible.
I lick the roomy caverns of my psyche
Moistening dormant sight
Visions that have laid comatose...
...nearly forgotten,
They yawn and soon vibrate
Loosening their once more sticky state
Like lactating nipples- expressed.
I smell youth in the afternoon
In a foreign country where I once
Donned my structured attire
And daily, tied my religious blue-striped noose
The grey pinafore with perfect matching pleats,
Emphasized the stoic 'unfeeling' guilt of my
Needless to say,
I appreciate those times,
Gravitate even- when they choose to rehearse
I love the clinking low-worn heels
Disturbing the quiet uniformity of still halls
Large concrete steps that beg to shred skin
This is England in my mind
An eye so worn with delight and pride
So few can compare with the richness of their own
Early eighties............
Red woven shoes, and their minuscule gold filament
Such retention, locked for years and yet easily reared
Clearly, within my own suggestions
The time spent in religious recanting
Has less to do with religion
Than it does with my own child-like intensity
Something I still feel at 38
Abandoning never-
The wish to succeed;
To continue to learn and evolve
Using memory as muscles-
To flex.
The day throws a snippet of memory...
Sun through trees and wind whistling leaves
I'm in England again