poem #21

unspoken

slowly, i move from room to room.
standing. motionless.
staring into the space.
only my shadow moves with changing light.
i want to lie down.

i boil the kettle for tea,
that buys me time.
a watched kettle never boils.
the familiar screeching jolts me back;
that didn't feel long at all.

a lump move upwards inside -
best to ignore it.
giving it attention gives it strength,
allowing it escape
as a scream.
or something worse.

what a waste.
all those unsaid words.
i had them well-planned.
your ears remain innocent.

what sort of power
can silence
without a gag?
suffocated - 
but still breathing.
perhaps you're a magician
to pull such a clever trick.
i'm convinced of your kindness,
whilst i watch you sharpen your knives. 

poem #20

chariot

i stand upon a chariot
pulled by two beasts
that i cannot unite.
when they fight,
we must stop.

so much for riding in unnoticed.
my neck and shoulders hurt;
straining against the gold chains.

"move forwards!"
i plead.
they ignore me;
remaining at odds.

i could not see a way out.
the trees had been moving again.
i could not see a way out.
the snow fell heavily;
the darkness smothered us.

"why can't i have what i want?"
because it is not yours,
said the voice.
accept it.
i would not.

they started to fight.
shredding throats 
with scythe like claws.
i doubled over in pain,
never wanting to get up.

"stop hurting us!"
the beasts roared.
i whipped them all the harder.
eventually they collapsed;
exhausted and bloody,
foaming at the mouth.
i lay down next to them,
weeping.

a knight galloped towards us,
riding a gleaming white unicorn.
he offered me his hand,
when i went to take it
he laughed and then scorned
before disappearing entirely.
my poor beasts howled.

i stroked their fur
gently dressing the wounds.
"we'll try again tomorrow."
and slowly they fell asleep,
safe in the relief. 

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 #18

will you chase away my sorrow,
that haunts me in the night?
the courage i must borrow
to escape misery and strife.
the darkness it covers me
like a blanket of despair.
the weight does suffocate me
as i claw and grasp for air.
the moon gives off no light;
the stars have been blacked out.
the fear does steal my sight
leaving just pain and doubt.
come play me your sweet music
that lulls me back to sleep.
the only thing that calms me,
your lullaby to keep.

poem #17

kintsugi

now, i anticipate the melancholy.

when it fell apart
every bit of it broke.
i realised i was trying
so hard to hold shards
together.
as i held on 
desperately,
i started to forget 
the shape
it used to be.

my arms ached
but i held on.
how could i do 
what i needed to
whilst trying to maintain
structural integrity.

and then i let go.
every piece came apart
and fell to the floor.
as i let them drop
i could hear the sounds
of several shatters
hitting the ground.

it was over...

or so i believed.

i returned to the fragments,
strewn across the room,
and considered them.
each piece unique.
point to one,
i'll tell you a story.

i laughed.
i cried.

i started dreaming.
what could i build?
i found a pot of gold
and got to work.

it might not hold
(i hope it doesn't)
i may decide to change,
what i decide right now.

poem #16

the roses we find

such a delicate flower
he held in his hand,
the petals he crushed
as if to take stand.
their fragrance was sweet
and felt like a cry;
so gentle and vulnerable,
the roses we find.

do flowers have spirits,
perhaps even a soul?
nobody has asked this
when cutting them all.
who are we to assume,
as arrogant as we are,
that we alone have feelings
when we destroy and command.

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 #14

hoard

come and find me
if you can!
amongst all the stuff
that makes up my land.
past the shoes
and piles of clothes
that haven’t been worn
since days of old.

come if you dare
into my castle -
can you find me,
amidst all the parcels?
turn a sharp left
past all those books
that are no longer read,
or warrant a look.

hunt through those bags
for which i have many,
and whom for i wasted
my hard earned money.
beyond all the storage
and cupboards of stuff,
you’ll find some more shit
and hoards of unloved.

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 #12

she said,
they tell you they pay you
to leave.

then she laughed - 
they always leave first.