[from a post on the talkingclock side journal]
ancient poems ~ 2008
Reading Hour
In pen and in pencil
Expertly arranged
Colourful monochrome
Drips from the page
Through words and rhythm,
Prose and rhyme,
Climb inside someone’s mind
Or a portal through time
for Alison
void
Your head feels bust
And your mouth tastes of rust
From blood gargled and spat out last night
And you want to cry
Feel so messed up inside
But everyone says it will all be alright
It’s hard to believe
When you’re on your knees
And the faith and the hope have dried up
But you try to smile
In blatant denial
Of the fact that your heart feels tied up
A faint old tune plays
As you sleep through each day
In a bed made of ash, built for one
The drug is right there
But you feel too scared
Of what they’ll say when they see what you’ve done
The pills should’ve helped
Instead you just felt
Like everything had become so much clearer
Waking each day
To suffer in vain
And ending it knowing the answer
Spontaneous thoughts
Outline in white chalk
The person they thought you could be
Inconsistency bends
Your image of strength
Always brings you back down to your knees
If you could just feel
If your wounds could just heal
Then it might disappear this time ’round
But dreams are all lies
And everyone dies
Nothing matters when you’re underground
momentum amounts to memories
[draft]
Dirty fingernails and twelve sweaty feet
Torn-up clothes and three cuts that weep
Quietly outspoken, the Man with the Plan
The night crashes down and falls asleep
Someone laughed so hard their make-up ran
I cried when she sighed and held my hand
Just so very happy, it was beautiful
She leant in close and said “everybody can”
old
Fags and alcohol
Slouched with her favourite poisons
What a role model
I wish I could help
There’s a barrier there
I can only cry
savage romance
The mechanics of desire never considered
That you may be required to be beaten down
And force-fed a farce of spit, spite and blood
Split into halves by a sick diseased clown
You were once a saint among so many black hearts
Looked so young as you waited in your tainted armour
So she argued with hate as you fell apart
An expectation displaced by a misinformed father
After scripts burnt out and an awkward silence
Came a history of bouts in gloves dusted with fry ice
Your anxiety prevailed as the days turned into months
And your honesty soon failed as she lusted for those fights
A cruel kid with a penchant for misery and scars
But seductively painted with a face of fake charm
You shed your true tears for tragic circumstance
And built brand new fears for her own false harm
She was once taught like a child in a cast
People can be fought until they break or bend
Manipulation is the word that brings life to ugly masks
But if cannot be heard and it cannot be read
An invalid arrangement so she’d feel strong
Mood swings and knife rage beat your ego to pulp
You can’t deny you betrayed her ’cause she’s never wrong
And all of her hurt was always your fault
the all-natural orchestra!
We extend to your person a grand invitation
To get down and boogie, and dance to the rhythm
Of a handcrafted mirror ball mosaic drum
So join in with us or take your well-earned turn
To entice all others and lead by the hand
A mish-mash of merry-men, an exciting new band
Of flip-flops and castles and sparkling glitters
And cherry-topped sundaes and pineapple fritters
Those dashing young men with their stubbly chins
Those pretty young ladies with their charming grins
The oddballs, the all-sorts, the dim and the bright
The ones who love daytime and the ones who love night
And everyone smiley or with rugged hair
Come dance in the streets and let others stare
Wear the robes of a king or a clown
And turn all those frowns right upside down!
older stuff…
miranda
2007
Schoolgirl valentine smiles in
Red leather bondage, studded with spiked metal
Leaps across the empty mountains after midnight
Spreads her arms like a confused mistress
Holding the world on her back,
Buckling shoulders support an ancient
Something she’ll never understand
Ties an old ghost to a withering tree
In a burning forest,
Leaves him to melt to a fierce bubbling
Puddle of foolish hope
And skips the funeral
To attend a dragon’s ball
Hosted by a myth that cries itself to sleep
Arrives on the arm of a cheap lie,
In crystal stilettos sticking to fishnet stockings
And faded dress worn with friction
Faking concern for the charity of the night
Waltzes as the night heads to climax
On an empty spiral floor
That rises erect to the sky
With her on top, writhing and shaking
Leaps from the clouds at dawn as
Breath turns to ice,
Soars past a hundred homeless hearts and
Sprouts huge wings
Rises to the glowing sun, fades out of sight
Then ignites in a blinding flash
That fills the sky and leaves nothing
Feeling whole
Anymore
the invincible spongeboy!
2006
Departure is the only resolve.
Nonetheless, persist to repair
Make all the effort, undergo and reform
Regardless of what seems just or fair
Counselling or therapy might change your state
She must do nothing, since you are the cause
She can scream and lash out, or spit in your face
You must be calm, silent and absorb
Act on her every impulsive whim
But not to such an extent as you do
Cause that would make you a coward and a wimp
Judge which was anger and which was true
Fury’s a resort which serves well indeed
Although not for you, it’s not your place
You should be worm and she can be queen
You should be grace and she can be hate