Tag Archives: relationships

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

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

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

You might want me in a bar sometime

And that’s okay I think that’s good
I can see us discussing strategy who
Will go to the toilet first we wouldn’t
Go together and we’d linger awkwardly
Or if no-one was there hold close and
Kissing push into a cubicle and untying
The door opens and we wait but in each
Other’s eyes smiling edging lips closer
Drifting hands we hear this person peeing
And hold eachother and when they leave
I go down on my knees for you on the
Wet but back at the bar if I’m not
Horny enough when you ask don’t be
All melancholy I’ll just have another
Drink and under the table start feeling
How I should for you and in the end
We can play like this unashamed for
Our fun and not worried about babies.

He’s a lovely lad but my advice remains

Forget him and find someone else easier
And smoother I think but much less desirable
Easier easy is good I think life is short and
Love is long etc ah love easy don’t fall in love
Easy though love is hard falling in love is
Easy you wanna love easy and fall in love
Hard and not for long a wank is a way out
Of feeling and meditation is this pent up lust
Only helps you enjoy the torment of longing
This guy Charles Bukowski is a genius I’d
Love him but he’s dead and he wouldn’t want
My love he’s dead comes first though coz if
I sucked him hard and drunk enough he
Might want me before the end cums

Twelfth Night Live and Online

There’s a love beyond a fuck that lasts
And a fuck beyond love too short they
Meet constantly like in a cheap Shake-
spearian comedy mistaken and struck
By tragedy but still living and awaiting
True recognition these siblings these
Comrades these necessary parts of one
All mixed and split in our lives so ruined
This too often unhappy tumbling a pain
In the repetition a sublime join in the
Resolution so long lost and trampled

You can fuck or be fucked and enjoy it
But not love eachother, and you can love
Forever without fucking, you can love
Deeper than sex, I wouldn’t necessarily
Recommend it but it is possible and the
Problem is we mix them up, someone
Thinks sex is love, someone thinks love
Is sex, people lose lust and go off fucking
And get crushed by their own still virgin
Love and the jealousy and then people
Having affairs think they’re in love just
Because they’re in bed together and all this
Fucking confusion, you need to know
What you’re doing you need to accept
How you feel you can fuck right and love
Right but it won’t always be both, and it
Won’t always be either and you have to
Have the sense to know and know that
Reality will keep on being itself regardless
Of what you want from it and that is just
How the fuck it goes.

Sir Harry Wotton

To God, I’m Ill

You’re the universe but that’s just pain in me now
Crying on the couch loveless and miserable sick
I need a drop of Christ’s weepings or something
It’s not a matter for hospital beds and hypodermics
An ear of David’s seed to suck and chew so you
Can drown me out of the world Christ son bought
With his life and that’s still not good enough for you.
Get off your arse you fat fuck, prove you’re the God
Of love and not a Satan in universal robes. I’m ill
Because of you. It hurts.

Queen B

Stars have nothing on your eyes except numbers
And more than two would be weird kinky
You’re the bee that brings in the spring humming
Over birds with their cheap autotune your bass
Vibrating the flowers into pollination neither
Violets or roses or any other kind of colour
Beats your black and yellow back your arse
Wobbles the best dance eclipses those virgin
Queens and hovering over me I pull on your sharp
Stinger to feed.

Portraits of 19th Century politicians conceal half-remembered

Whispers from your lovesick lips and in the gallery standing
I put my hands down to feel the blue carpet in your room
And pulling at it rough the crunching sound of bunched fabric
Under nails and your eyes wandering to me
We both seem far too sober for this
And I think about going to wash for you
We end up brushing our teeth together after in a marriage
We’ll never see and making a great show of timidity
I slide my trousers down carefully obscuring
Until I’m beneath your sheets and you ask
This honest face this suddenly looking in my eyes
I stole a tiny piece of your heart there
But that’s not what a 19th century face would do
That’s not quite suitable will ruin the portrait
And you go cold as I cuddle you
And now in the morning awake I put away my brushes.

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