Tag Archives: poet

Very clear sky tonight only two clouds

Very clear sky tonight only two clouds
In the ink we’re floating above the water
Not winded like they usually are motioned
We’re sitting on the concrete spur watching
The sea pass us by pass in front pass
The pebbles to our feet licking toes
Dragging us off into the current the lift
Air passes by our coats forelorn our t-shirts
The clouds are joining now that they see
We bathe in the moonlight glitter the eyes
Seed ears on the rocks cold hard on the soles
Never lack for warmth after dark when the
Moon speaks your name / in my mouth
And when the sun burns the same words too
Fit this skin but there the clear sky

Between the lines an artery gets fat

Pale those fingertips on the cut glass
Swirling textures that rub the snake
Crack dividing truth like flesh
I thought you trusted now cold lips
Sticking as they part over white sheets
We lie straight in the blue half light
I drop an unwelcome plank a leg
On your blue I pull it back the way
Whatsapp messages are deleted
You talk you smile you kissed are
Accusations from between my cheeks
Where the tongue moved your fingers
Should have touched like the glass
Canyon that cuts them as I type
Away the last drops before the stop

Old poems like worn shoes small and torn

Flap rubber and canvas on the concrete spent
You stride as ballet holding the bear warm
Close below your ribs and bunny ears on
Tattered sleeves pass cold pillars hold the sky
Echos whistling through your headphones
Skip in your step the bright lights in the dark
Shadows in the day slap the fuzz awake some
Shinflesh in the gravel I wish I could lay these
Lips on your lids and breathe the feeling thru
Your teeth as it fizzes my veins as it touches
These fingers but it lands off hides beneath a
Tongue burrows in the wax and whine we
Wear our old badges that remember death worse

The Man I Want

Another you
You looked into my eyes and sold me shoes
You looked into my eyes
You got inside me and made me want
When you finished even you didn’t want me
You smiled and laughed and I bought the shoes beneath
Your raised eyebrows
But at that time you had a she who you loved

Then some time later I came to you again
An initiate
And I was lost in my mind as you played
Music
I drank until I could never be full again
And you played on
And you began to see how I cared

I wanted to help you selling drinking listening
Every part of you I wanted gave way
To something deeper
Every part of you I tried to build up with me
You smiled and laughed and I brought the shoes
Beneath your raised eyebrows

We lived for centuries moments corrupt with love
To last lifetimes we lived I lived for you
You’ve seen this
And all in quiet brown wood and cotton and wool
All in these ancient fabrics and the root of all colours
Your words are the sweetest rose thorns

We’re sitting at the bar and you take the one with most
Bubbles and I have the remainder that tastes
Tinted with your touch I
Imagine things
We enjoy the places between oblivions
Bookended like that they’re the only life

I caught you in my trap

That springs to rub along sides
Grasp and hold in warm places
You thought some libertine’s
Evening that these bodies
Would stop your capturing
So wanton a hare as this
Loose on your lot and holding
My hips some sachets of condiment
Served for this blissful moment
Ghosts possess the mind’s eye
Totemic emblems are tossed

The fact of a mythological meeting
Is always lost whether
In faerie caverns or converted
Bedrooms the feel of my flesh
Between your fingers recedes
Dreamt away with the flaccid joy
Of distinctly female caresses
Needing to be touched
The alarm clock and the bottle unfinished
The questions dissolved in ultraviolet daylight

You walk away with a limp or

Otherwise encumbered

More of the Same

A dark Soho street or wherever there’s some red light
Basement drinking wine bars with charming waiters
Conversation and red blood flowing in the town’s
Ghost rivers that drown below the pavements but really
I mean the moonlight and the yellow street lamps and
You taking me to a place telling me what wines to buy
Sometimes I just want to be a girl a woman like the way
They said like romance and broken hearts unwanted
Pregnancies I just want your voice in my ears and you
In front of me in your subtle way and smelling the wine
That has been in your mouth and looking up and down

I digress

A harsh reality that unfolds like out of a song the wine
Dragging us away into some den of iniquity by which
We mean a side street with the lights out and the tall
Men in the street with their air of knives feeding drunk
Me for which you will be required to pay because
I’m your lady and knives and later we walk through
Endless bunker corridors of a block of flats of rooms
In this safety on this rough blue carpet in your sweet bed
The look in your eyes you understood what’s in me
You saw me and liked me you knew me and gave me up
For shame and that’s all there is it is now ended and
I’m not alone but I’m not with you and I want you
Sometimes but otherwise it’s just more of the same

Don’t Equate Me

The same Grammarly ad five times 25 minutes
The same grammarly ad ten times an hour
25 miles of grammarly source code can’t
tell me that inconsistent capitals, no full stops
random line breaks, can’t tell me
How to improve lazy and bleeding noise –
Is a cover up: 6 times twenty five, 150 empty
grammarly ads for air heads who are acting in ads
School never let them write
Like this
And 25 maths questions about fruit doesn’t
Tell you how an apple tastes in 10mph wind
On the seashore, salt-sodden trousers and dying
Devices in the pebbles and health among the
Broken glass paraphernalia of cutting and honest
Forced out phrases with hyphens in the wrong places.

Anohter [sic]

There’s not much better on a Sunday
Five layers of salt smell wafting
Midday activities pleasurably concluded
And a 2ltr cider resting on the table there

Pristine before the implosion, pristine
And then the week comes with the best
Dirt, and the days roll on – cheap fabrics
Cut under an industrial skylight, on and on

No other time will the salt smell so good
No other way to paint the layers in peace
No other space to breathe the dust

A Red Handkerchief on Grass

i’m talking to you on the phone with the messages, you’re sending me them and I’m sleepy and in the bed and lying next to her and the sheets are up in me, the sun is coming through yellowy; outside the bed is cold inside the bed is warm
you’re talking in my inner ear with your messages and I’m sending you back, the phone is down and on the floor and in my inner eye you’re walking along this sunny afternoon street to me, you’re in her body and I know and you look at me knowingly but you don’t say why. We know it.
you walk over to me on the grass talking normally, her voice not like her, not unlike you, you sit down next to me talking the same message, there is a tree and a house, I don’t register what you’re saying but it is normal and alright
I want to say I can’t look into her eyes with you in them, look a little too long, and see the mouth, nose, brows and in those features your face looking back, I want you to know I went to sleep wet and this is me dreaming
you might be saying, I might be hearing
I’m reaching over to press down on the clit you’re wearing, soft cotton on top and pushing and you moaning, and warm overhanging in the sun, I mount you, feeding you thru her, in the grass, in the heat
in a sharp movement you get up and back into your body, all in one swift motion but not quite, like a few frames of film were missing, and you walk off, and I feel you; behind you and next to me where we shared blood and semen, a red handkerchief lying flat out as if to absorb stains
I wake up wet and look over at her, sleeping in the white sheets in the yellow light, my hair is in my eyes, I reach for the phone and drop it again, I turn over and stretch out on the mattress and on the pillows, and I rub myself in the mattress, and it hurts in my heart but tenderly and I remember how you sometimes wish you are a woman too

Quickie

The secret is not to create mercilessly
But to make what other people thought
They only knew privately –
When you show them something they
Felt inside and quiet and alone
It’s like a magick trick except
Instead of pulling a coin from behind
An ear it’s a heart from a chest or brain
The bloody peace thumping in your fist
That you twist and turn for them stroking
Aortas, cava, trunk with knuckles and finger
Tips so that they can see what they are feeling
So that they have their blood on paper
For eternity –
And if you don’t do this you are merely
Wallowing in your own inarticulate sorrow