So central

This illuminating version.
Drifting.
Loving, only when the time is right.
When it’s uncalled for.
Who knew?
Who cared?
A scorched soul while the film played on.
And all roads led to the same.
Your heart curdled up tight.
Wearing out my mind.
Melting the plastic of the world we once inhabited.
Central now.
Gaining control of a need that was needed.
Crazy, only to know we were always driving.
Using our knees to steer.
Hoping to crash and burn.
In a beautiful, all consuming fire.
So central to our survival.

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In sleep

Waiting, till we’re lost and quiet.
Caught out in a silhouette.
These shadows cover the eyes of the brave.
A needle of swords that keep the monsters at bay.
This flesh is tired and tied to a thought that cannot be released.
So I fight them in my sleep, these monsters that creep into my world.
The séance that claws and fumbles like talons at our skull.
Realised, this is damaging and bruising to the honest.
The silence in us, is forcing a defeat.
Demons, who walk with unabandon across my sunlit life.
Mocking us like a bag caught in the branches of a tree.
So I fight them in my sleep, these monsters that creep into my world.
Harkened the darkened voices that breathe and heave.
Calling and coming closer to me.
Whispering of a madness that covers us like ghostly intrigue.
But the morning never banishes the voices of disorder.
For which such havoc is birthed from the words that now live and breathe.
But we can fight them in our sleep, these monsters that creep into our world.
It’s the only place they can be defeated.
In dreams. In sleep.

Lay me down

To sleep, in a dream that never wakes.
Flying on stars and tears tonight.
Lay me down.
Into the air or the earth.
For that is where my soul seeks silence.
Covered for a hundred years, a thousand tears.
Rusted and weak.
Lay me down, to sleep.
And tell me stories of the future.
A harkening of new truths.
When this time has died into a yesterday.
I will wake, and drink the world in again.

21:09

Staring down the dark street, he watched as the lamp-posts flickered in and out of light. Luminous reflection seeming to be running off an invisible heartbeat. Stuttering. Struggling.

He felt the same. He was tired. He’d run the last two miles and his calf muscles now ached. He’d stopped momentarily to ease the stitch that was spreading in his side. Stabbing needles from Satan’s fingertips.

Nearly there.

He saw the traffic had built up on Bower Street, he’d actually heard the car horns and the angry shouts before he saw the rows of taillights snaking away. A great stationary monster of red eyes going nowhere.

Turning left, he hurried away from the angry voices and quickly checked the time. 20.45. It had taken longer than he’d expected. The transport had imploded on itself and the city was heaving in unpreparedness that night. He felt the sweet on his forehead, the stingy sizzle of desperation and determination. A light rain now flecked onto his skin as he passed by houses. The glow of life inside reminded him what he was doing this for. The eyes of the buildings glowed with little tears from the rain, happy that people were inside. All together for the first time in years.

He sprinted, tripped and surged on. Finally getting to the door five minutes later. Too little, too late?

Better late than never he supposed, rapping frantically on the door.

The door swung open hastily. The smell of candles and coffee greeted him along with the flood of a welcoming light and a relived smile.

“Thank god.” They said to him, as he collapsed into their arms.

Tears, sweet and rain ran unabashed down his cheeks. His heart, which had threated to give up on him, pulsed to a different beat. The feeling he got whenever he saw them. The tingly skin sensation that tickled around his ears and neck. He smelled them, hugged them. Taking these new feelings deep within himself.

“I can’t believe it.” They said as the broke apart and he stepped inside.

The small house threw its arms around him and beckoned inside to safety.

“It’s pandemonium out there”. He replied, stepping further in and following them up the stairs. He glanced quickly at the front room, the warming sweet smelling candles flickered in the small room while the television screamed out silently with the volume down. The news informing no-one to things that everyone already knew.

“I’m glad you made it, I was getting worried it would be too late.” They said, settling down onto the bed. He took in the vision, the moment and tried to keep himself together.

He followed, not bothering to take off his shoes but throwing off the jacket which the light rain had clung to.

The clock on the side clicked over to 9pm.

They drew into one another, kissing tenderly. Touching each other’s hands and diving deep into one another’s eyes. Tears swelled, wiped away by fingers that trembled in the glowing room.

“I had to be here. I had to come.” He said. Knowing that they already knew.

“I didn’t expect it to be like this. I’m just glad you’re by my side.” Their voice stuttered. “I love you.” they said, and closing their eyes. Not out of shame; but to a sad realisation it would be the last time.

“I love you.” The replied. “And I will find you again.”

The held each other closer as the lights died.

21:09. The time the world ended.

Applications become the same

This Monday morning evaporates the weekend.
A horrendous hue of change.
Your absence now in my bed, as our bodies break.
Twisting the world apart.
The world, now on show for bright eyes and coffee headaches.
Stretching out the happiness as the day rolls into grey.
For without you next to me, I find it harder to breathe.
The eye blinks of necessity struggle under the weight of it all.
I do not mean to be a burden, of self-serving theatrics.
This production creeps out of the stage you set.
For each time you go, and the curtain closes.
I’m left picking popcorn and ticket stubs off my dirty heart.
Rushing once more for the weekend, to be first in line.
This heart a needle, in your hay.

Play dead

She lay there, with a bullet in her heart.
A world away.
A smile apart.
Reaching and tempting the heavens down.
A shuttering shame.
Like tears on a clown.
For there never was a heart at all.
No righteous tumble.
Or martyred fall.
Or even a god to share the pain.
Just empty prayers.
A messiahic shame.
For all these things played out in her head.
So she lay there silently.
Playing dead.

Floating worlds

To lift into a dream.
A sky that fits into your hand.
Let loose like the heartstrings of a melody,
that taps at your soul.
You breathe the air I need to survive.
Blown backwards like a northwest gale.
Billowing underneath these feathered sails.
Crystalize the weight that hangs heavy like the edge of space.
Skimming the clouds of your floating world.
To dive into the air of thought that passes between us.
That leaves me shaking like a night terror.
A heartbeat like a sleep kick.
These strings are made with each joint decision.
Tasselled and tied the rigging of a wandering star.
Leaving my hands covered in stardust.
And lungs of love full to burst.
I go silently into that pastel sky.
Watching the moments as I go.
Lifting off deep into your soaring kingdom.

 

 

Girl/Boy

BOY

Unpicking the threads that burrowed deep into the bones.
A tangled web of untruths.
Wearing boots, to kick the butt of the world.
And raise that two inches higher.
Closer to the sun, to let it catch in your eyes.
Able to cry, only when you’re alone.
Stripped and naked, yet not self-deprecating.
Watching the birds from the nest.
With a numbed skin that creases at the corners.
Wallowing in the shallow waters of a dirty pool.
I cannot keep you safe from the wolves.
I can only save myself from tomorrow.

GIRL

A swing between masculine and feminine.
Welcomed into the circus tent once more.
A concrete garden where the clowns come to cry.
My oh my, what a pretty thing. What a pretty scene.
Wearing boots to mark your tread on the earth.
And to raise higher on that pedestal.
Forever wobbling in the winds of change.
Yet how you soar up to the sun.
Licking feathers to keep them packed, aerodynamic.
Keeping the sheen and the shine to show the gold.
And never grow old, for the elephant graveyard never holds your bones.
You only fade into pages of yesterday.

Do, what you don’t

Do you need some assistance?
While the moon falls, and the waves turn black.
That notorious liar.
All joy that expired, when they decided to stay.
Robbing and rubbing. Making little nests for magpie memories.
It found you, such violent forgiveness.
Crashing into your cells while your conscience slept.
And do you wake to pray?
Do you mean to say, you would give it all back?
Sin crouches at the door.
God hovers on your lips.
And still, you remain the same.

Hurry this nirvana

How long had you been sleeping?
In a pool of your own happiness.
Licking the chops of the beasts that sleep.
How anointed of you, to kiss my sandalwood feet.
To stare into the eyes of god and see nothing.
To see only stars, being born again and again.
Your skin cracks and bleeds rose water.
These eyes that tighten with every word from your lips.
Coughing up daises, pulling the leash you keep the world on.
They’d love to hate you.
Sneaking just a peak at your tolerance.
Dousing everything in oil and honour.
Lighting little fires in the dark pools of their souls.
Divine is defined by your existence.
Regret is stained by your ghost.

WICHITA EYES

In the night they burn.
Fireflies trapped in an amber jar.
Smelling the sand on my skin.
The dust-bowl offerings to a world of plenty.
Wichita eyes follow me.
Bar stamped and ready. Hovering over something entirely.
Waiting to be consumed.
Where do you go now motel boy?
Burning holes through my skin.
Somersaulting in and turning my blood to milk.
The day fades away, blackening the eyelids of the young.
The eyes always ready.
Waiting for tomorrow.

TAKE MY FORGOTTEN

Do you know, this all feels the same now.
Eyes that hang down with gravity.
Tender but so tired.
Reproachful fingers that feel their way to my shoulder.
Checking I’m still here.
Scared to touch, but desperate to comfort.
My refugee emotions lay claim to nothing.
Stolen of their gold, now left to hang like robbed out trees.
Fruit rotting on the floor.
Don’t kill my dreams then tell me I’ll live forever.
How much of the dark do you expect me to see?
No, the world is a vast ocean to me now.
And I’ve always been afraid of the water.

Looking at the distance

Where did the morning sun go?
That grew and flowered on my sleeve.
Made way for the darkening globe, and the urban noise.
Thoughts of you chased me though the city of Manhattan.
Tomorrow you settle into the victory, the arms of love.
Sidewalks and segues into different dreams.
The outback rattles and ransacks our minds.
Climbing higher than the skyscrapers, your dreads do climb.
If only I were a passenger, I would hold on tight.
Rushing like the ghosts through your bones to safety.
But you give me the directions, detours into chasms that are stained with your soul.
An inky black that creeps and dwells within.
And ask me to bare the light, to banish the darkness forever.
You ask all of this, as the sun rolls into twilight’s lap.
You pray for change and those arms of love that squeeze.
Careful like a dove, that hopes to soon be flying.
All of this, half a world away.

When worlds collide

Catch me staring, out into space.
Through the letterbox of wonder.
Out of the eyes of god.
And I found you.
Skimming the skies with darkness and sleep.
I watched you fall deep.
Into the oceans, and turned with the tide.
To know you, is to consume just a spark of your fire.
My own deep desire, explodes when we touch.
Mix and repel, our magnetised hearts.
Set to a compass which spins on the calendar.
Forcing us north of the North Pole.
To a tune I cannot hum.
What colours we make, what stars we conquer.
When our two worlds collide.

Bag of bones

What is left to discover, underneath of another?
Slipping their hand inside your dreams.
Blink and they’ll hover, laying oily fingers upon you.
Dripping into your world.
Turn you over like heroin.
Underneath those clothes that hang like a skin.
They’ll slip within, and caress your soul.
At least that’s what you believe.
That’s what you’ve been told.
A smiling, nodding bag of bones.

Time to regenerate

Partners in exposer, distant dreams uncovered.
These delusions, of downfall;
keep a heart and feet on edge.
Come paint this sky, wipe away the grey.
Emerge and break the lightning in mind.
A Bath for my brain as I breathe under water.
Turning the water to red.
Your arm-reach way, stretches across the universe.
Equal to all, statically shuffling sub atomically.
Bits of stars and dust, and molecules of love.
Come break this world and build it up again.
Woken and broken into pieces of god.
Drenched in the tears of the angels,
Splattered with the blood of Satan.
Wring out the colours of clarity.
And hold aloft for the jealousy of the dead.

Haunted hunter

A mournful tune to play as the bones buckle.
The hum inside your gums while the night lingers on.
What sound called to you, rose you from that grave of regret.
We sit and watch the world tip over, spun into a dizzying dervish and lost in the mind of God.
These darkened eyes that haunt you, casting casualties and consequence.
Do you leave them to turn to stone?
To honey up and glaze like the milky itch of remorse?
How heavy the skin of the idle.
Bleached into the alien grey like driftwood on a beach.
Turn on that apology and settle into an xstatic rhythm.
Shaken from the willows of the wilds. Shaking stars and dust from your mind.
The black swan which follows you, cries out for change.
Etiolated in the darkening world you occupy.
Be still its cries of the dying, the call for collapse.
For this flightless bird of paradise craves warmer climates.
And a world much brighter than our own.

Intertwined

Our souls so pure they all align.
Separated only by thoughts and time.
Which hold a love that extends to all.
Who reign above, or those who fall.
And do not let the world go dark.
But ignite the hope within each spark.
This alchemy that turns hate to kind.
Our lives, our world, all intertwined.

Fly me to the moon

Into the shuttle, with a clink and clank.
Climbed old Richard, the adventurous Yank.
He counted down, from ten to zero.
Puffed out his chest, as America’s new hero.
And he soared into the sky, with his hands in his pockets.
As he shot to the moon on the back of a rocket.
And the earth dripped away under the clouds and his feet.
He smiled at his fortune that was ever so sweet.
Yet alone on this flight, bound for the lunar oasis.
As his body hung on earth in a medical stasis.
In the nursing home called Cherry palm, Richard resided.
At 92, was the best place his children decided;
For him to live out his days in comfort and care.
Little knowing each day was full of lonely despair.
And that is why, though medicated it’s noted.
He navigated the world, and now space where he floated.
And he went where he wanted, on his own in his head.
He had travelled to the moon without leaving his bed.

Where do you go?

When this world takes over me.
Smoking stars and twilight.
This impossible process of living.
Breathing each time the same.
Where do you go to?
Down into the ground with the bones.
Up to the sky with the feathers.
Swimming for now in this sea of uncertainty.
Where do I find you when I need that earthy voice?
That stone rooted soul that flicks away the flies of remorse.
Seek and thee shall find, but you are absent in this moment.
Gone away with the fairies as I relapse into tinkerbell tendencies.
I will find you there, I swear.
Caught between the tide and heaven.
Sailing our love to the ends of the world.
You be the captain.
And we’ll be forever saved.
Drifting on the tide around Saturn.

Recapturing

The silent soul who wades this world.
With brittle bones and sad inclinations.
Arrives at a place in memory, strung up with words that bind.
Does he fall deeper into the despair of an age?
Of that turning sun that snatches all that lay in his hands?
Or does shift, and arches his back to the march of time.
A solider in war of change.
Corrupting from within.