Devil’s hour

Heart beats and heavy breathing set the scene.

Eyes open, spasm

Scream.

I fucking hate myself.

Untitled

I see hope is radiating 

from your strong, highlighted cheekbones

Mirroring your fears like souvenirs

and all the strength that you broke

When you started mending nicely

And folk said you looked gamely, save the eyes 

That seep your secrets

What to’morra brings 

I’ll let you know a secret 

Wrap it up and keep it

It still bleeds deep within

You’ve got that look that could still a thousand heartbeats 

But you hear a banging in your ear

Losing more, without me

Don’t you see?

I’m your plastic millionaire 

 

The hold

You’re there

in those moments of space 

between the  places where white noise waits  

for silence.

But as the clock turns on

chiming time with a bird, and 

I find it harder to succumb 

to quietness

and feel you slip, between the 

cacophonous  cracks. 

Unspoken

It’s hot and sticky – a viscous, Mumbai sunset
complete with Bombay’s colours

I heard it said that those smiles are best

but yours, dressed here now in glistening sweat

beams like the sky of high noon.

You’re California

and I, aware of my own London grey

am content to reply with Irish eyes, instead

In Sanity

I’m not like them
Are you like me?

I like interesting people

The people that often dislike people

Problematic, to say the least

I like my own company – no pretense

My world, not a stage, nor I
an actress

Not then – not in solitude

Just me.

My head is busy – I like that, it keeps me nimble, save the fidgeting

Tapping, dancing feet

I keep my back straight – happy for folk to talk freely behind it

Improving posture

Weak-kneed at times, I’m double jointed

Bendy and hyper

Mobile heart and soul, northern beats

I’m not like them.
Are you like me?

Perhaps we will feel like them, spending time away from them

together.

The Tonic

I’m always missing somebody
and exercising control – muscle flexing with a burn

A steady smile, you like it?

Drunk on laughter, wine sodden
with odd socks sleeping on my skin, sweeping the floor like they’re made for it

I sit cross legged with a tambourine
but it is you that shakes like you’re convulsing

Two left feet, twirling you in circles and me in contentment

To this wonderfully strange, new beat

Docked.

You have a way

makes me want to slow right down
and taste the light
that guides a thousand ships

The brink of borrowed time
that we lend now, pretending
how we had ever loved another

How we are merely
vessels in the dark, anchored deep until tomorrow

Lying here
just two sweaty souls – the waves have now forgotten

Sails and guards and hearts
are loosened now
colliding into one and other

You’re beautiful. So very beautiful

and mine

Slice Of Soul

Bit of a dreamer, me – pillow talk
with a stranger or laughing
hyenas 

Love a story – live many, with worlds washing over and pouring out of pens

Paper

papering over cracks that seep through painted smiles, leaving
days to love, like nights to sleep

I don’t sleep much, me – do the dreaming in the sunshine

Awake in peace

Healing

  
I’m courage on the plains
Fighting unsung battles
that only I can lose or win

Saluting to the pain

When that cold of winter seeps through
I’m sinking in the swim

But in shadows, there are shaplings
and I’m trying for the best
to create colour

Speak volumes

Remembering all the time
how it’s best to forget

Small Talk

Don’t talk small to me – I want

ships at sea and the tall tales of Sailors, Tinkers

who travel through their time

Give me secrets

whispered through the fabric of 

pillows; your ocean floor thoughts.

Fill the space between us with

planets and theories; give me oral 

that leaves me breathless

and needing to be captivated

time and time again