poem #30

bookstore

i look forward to that day
when i bump into you
in a coffee shop or bookstore
and not absorb a drop
of that tiresome anxiety.
the ongoing lament;
another existential crisis.
when the words you say
sound like nails down
a schoolroom chalkboard
and not a chorus of angels singing.
the numerous meals i cooked
were not enough to make me
the centre of your universe.
instead i was a planet
in a vast solar system
that revolved around you.
even as my life shattered,
i finally felt i was coming up for air.

poem #22

ivy

i built this house
stone by stone.
my fingers bled
from all the work.
i pulled up the drawbridge
but not before letting you in.
i witnessed you plant something,
i allowed it to grow and grow.

now ivy climbs and strangles the walls.
buried deep in the foundations
and lifting my floors.
the windows now completely covered,
i forced those shutters closed.

i locked the basement,
but the flies crawl through the cracks.
i swat them away; more come - 
the body you hid down there no doubt.

the yellow wallpaper that i hate;
peeling at the edges and tobacco stained.

i risk a glance outside, is that you?
i know it has been years
since you last climbed that fence.

i must find those shears,
i thought i had them here.
did you take those too?

the near constant drizzle of rain;
oppressive clouds coagulate over me
like voluptuous rolls of fat in the sky.
i shiver against the damp chill,
but the fires cannot be lit.
i imagine you surrounded by light,
bathed in an orange, diaphanous glow
of warm July sunshine.

poem #19

valentine


i found a vase
with a flower
i could not 
keep alive.
i watered it
with falling tears,
it still wilted
and cried.
i sunned it 
with fake smiles,
the petals continued
to fall.
i placed it on
the windowsill
so it might
see outside.
but still the
colour faded,
my flower did
slowly die.

poem #15

she told me to cut the cards twice
and create three piles. 
then she told me,
pick three cards,
as i held my question in the air.
she placed walnuts on the table.

the air filled with thick mist;
a blue filter over the forest.
she lay there on the rocks,
her legs partially in the stream.

a single pink rose on her breast;
her marble skin glowed.
her palms facing up like the Virgin.
the fur of animals had been scattered;
her hair neatly combed.

poem #13

i know what burns within
those pages,
i know the secrets that 
you hide.
i know the pain that
follows ages,
i know what lurks
inside.

poem #11

a glittering container
of crystal and mottled mirrors.
an exquisite dome
built around me.

i spin in circles
and you show me how to dance
until you drop my hand and smile
before walking away.

just leave.
i - must - get - out.
what can i use to smash through?
you take me by the hand once more
and we dance in circles
across the mirrored floor.