poetic lices

Lost.

2011-09-08T22:47:00.003Z

I lost him today.

The third goodbye endured

This more final than those before.

Holding each other at Bethnal Green

He topped up two fifty to watch me keel

From under him, as my legs numbed;

To stand locked in embrace, exchanging "I love you"s

Stealing tender kisses, pulling each other closer and closer still

Only to walk away

I couldn't say Goodbye

Losing

2011-08-18T01:15:00.002Z

Like cutting off a piece of me,

It's going to break my heart.

It's going to break his heart.

Our love burns slowly, tenderly, deeply.

I ache and clarity absconds somehow

The deeper felt, the further gone, the more to lose.

But this is not what good love feels like

It doesn't stand correct and redeeming

It doesn't rise from slurried remains, phoenix-like

This love is jutting, unkempt,

Perilous

and yet so true.

Inhaling deep in the crook of his neck -

In my heart I am home;

In my heart I am not.

He moves with me

But nothing is resolved

He buries his head

Stagnation abounds.

He will not give me what I want,

Yet he can not let me go.

My heart breaks open, red raw.

Wreckage

2011-05-18T20:15:00.003Z

He is taking time to 'think'

I asked him to

I already know what he will say

It will not be good.

I'm being strong, methodical

DO NOT CRY

I write in caps on my hand.

And I don't.

And as my heart shatters in to a thousand shards

I keep smiling

He said he couldn't put his finger on it

Everything was perfect

But there was something that didn't fit:

Me.

I felt that fleeting perfection

but I never had a chance,

there was something missing:

Him.

If only he had loved me

I would have given him all of myself

Every last drop I would have wrung and squeezed out

for Him.

I don't want to think. Or cry. Or hate.

I just want to find oblivion in the arms of another.

And I will.

Be destroyed.

What sweet pain it will bring.

To fuck without deception

No false, cruel eye-gazing

or loving touches without love

Just raw, unfeeling, uncaring, oblivion.

The peddler

2011-04-29T23:42:00.002Z

I suppose I may have been fishing.

Not ready for "I love you's" but baiting for an indication.

Whispered "I think I may be falling in love with you" as we lay.

But I do, I do love him. Well, have love for him.

Feel that welling inside.

The 'in love' may follow.

He didn't push away, but pulled me closer if anything.

He made his excuses -garbling, confused in my mind.

His actions undermining his words.

But.

There were words.

Strung together.

Lapsing, erroneous,

At times incomprehensible, perhaps.

But.

A message?

There, he held our future. I felt it keenly.

Flashbacks to loves of old.

A message I should heed?

But I can't.

I won't lie.

He isn't 'just another' for me.

But I can't be unrealistic, as for him I may well be.

But he's asked for time, time that will make a queen or a mockery of me.

Perhaps I am convenient?

Girlfriend-experience as they call it.

Bring me the fuck with meaning - the support when I need it.

Skip the integration and cohabitation.

I am strong.

But not nearly as hardened as he presumed

Still Achilles.

Still, a heart that doesn't break is no heart at all.

poker face

2011-02-04T00:58:00.006Z

I hate this uncertainty

Visited upon me

But I am so, so

Transfixed

Waiting

To see your hand

Lucky Jim

2011-01-14T01:20:00.002Z

And then it hits me

It's not contrived

That's it!

And a bit too much fun

Lucky me

Mindfuck

2011-01-10T23:18:00.002Z

I want you deeply
Wholly
Within my head

Forty Fathoms

Absorbed

2011-01-03T00:33:00.001Z

And when we kiss

Submit soft lip to lip

Absorb that vital charge

And waltz electric

Reel backwards, inwards, onwards

Heavy eyes, once opened

Succumb to mist

See in yours cloud lifting

blood bath

2009-11-26T02:16:00.000Z

Deep Tarocco sanguine
Flowing steadily faucet-wise
On my back I watch my toes rise and curl
Raise my hips upon my palms and point
Up to a fleckled ceiling of swirling shadows
As the candles flicker as a whisper
escapes my lips:

"The night is only a sort of carbon paper,
Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars"

Half in smugness for recalling such a line
But most because my muscles keel, splayed
I sink into the lapping tides
Overflowed gushing crimson makes wet
And did you know the hands are barely visible
From the bottom that is,
And that the bubbles were uniform at best
but still made an adequate beard?

Dry

2009-08-25T21:52:00.003Z

Cloaking dust
you land like
sweet silk shrouds
upon my
aching shoulders

Light as death
carry me
star-bound
on high
and release

Superunleaded

2009-08-08T00:23:00.001Z

I'm going to fill myself up

Superheaded

The Agency (Weird Dreams III)

2009-06-30T02:44:00.001Z

I am turned
Oh so easily
By the flutes and the petit-fours
And the grandiose staircase swirling
Here, to the higher ground.
Exquisite, the genteel flow into us
Diaspora, Diplomat, Distingue
Basking in soft-focus as the petticoats rotate

Carousel

I am turned
Oh so easily
That I barely notice her take to the stage
Floating ethereal, so delicate she is almost transparent,
"The Agency is delighted to welcome..."
And her voice melds into the fray
No matter,
I shall find a new, nubile siren to carry me away.

But I turned
Oh so quickly
As the smack of a shot slapped the wall.
Stock-still she stood,
Propped rigid against the baby grand.
Her mouth just parted, when she saw the blood
But what a pretty picture she made when lit from above:
Fingers splayed across her breast,
A milky gown turned ruby-red
And rosebud lips gave way to great crimson tides.

Pint-sized

2009-06-06T22:51:00.001Z

I feel enveloped
Tart and wretched
Such greatness came
So unexpected

Atlas

2009-05-25T20:23:00.006Z

A flagrant rebuttal from the world of men
Atlas stands

A Titan fallen
One hand to the dust that bore him,
One to the castrated sky that wounded withdrew

Atlas buckled, onwards stands

Impeding earth's embrace

Cracked

2009-05-01T00:46:00.000Z

You watch me

In the strip light
Giving me your best impression of
The Glad Eye

Unknowing,

But even then I heard
The filament rattle, rattling
in dead eyes

Later.
Pausing, Shielding
Eyes locked skywards,
Searching out a dying star

Buzzard prowl and swarm me
You grip too tight
Flecked bruises bear love
All voltage, no light

In clawed clutches I wake
The beast now

Swiftly to the fore
Where vicious hearts remain

Steady lion, you
Draping the chair
In velutinous sovereignty you sit
Stock still, stony stare'd

My faded lover Goodbye.
Leaving, it cracks,
The yolk runs red,
Seeping slowly earthbound.

A confusion

2009-04-05T23:23:00.001Z

Has many faces.

And places,
s'got loads of those too.

Isn't there a trickle of integrity
of perseverance, of just getting on?

When waiting for a fog to lift
one falls upon forgotten tasks with much enthusiasm
and leaves with just as much, shortly after.

The birthing

2009-03-08T23:26:00.005Z

This week I will begin again (a' finne-gan)
The polarity of reactions never helped me none
The great love, the great love
Carried as much hot air as it done

But all implosions aside
We live as we wish to die
All needless expulsions subside
like the quiet after the porn

woozy

2009-01-07T16:58:00.000Z

remind me to never
compose when I'm leathered
the efforts thus far
have been piss-poor I'm sure

unfaithful

2009-01-07T02:44:00.000Z

My sweet there are girls dearer
this much is becoming clearer
when she cries you will not hear her
as you're lying here with me

Lull

2008-12-01T22:39:00.005Z

Dark cloud
but no guilt therein
Only lulling precipitate
clinging to a precipice
waiting to be absolved

Esther Rantzen

2008-11-15T21:16:00.001Z

Haunched like a back-break piston
Flying through a viscid plume
Billow'd from a crone's cigar
Wailing triumphant "Here is where.
Let no one say I wasn't a gracious chap"

Esther, eyes ablazing
Swoops upon a mousey hound
Gnarled head sits high in fist
But the body limp furred sacking
"I know what has feasted" she crows

And a great she-wolf seeps out
From dark Gretel forests,
Squired by Waterbabies,
Porcelain in quietus.
Sneered smile creeps from
Punctured lips

And As For Love?

2008-10-20T01:11:00.000Z

"Ice-cream with coconut mushrooms",
"In driving rain to Windsor",
"Your head on my lap so gently"
What do these things mean?"
He said

a leading question.

" " I replied

He said he felt it. He knew it. He had it in his arms.
I said: " "

I took of your flesh and drank all your tea
but I don't feel it

Guilt surges. I never intended not to love you.

2008-10-10T22:43:00.000Z

I talk of it as if I knew it well:
I, this cold
I, this warm
this void,
this blossom
too jaded,
impure
I, listless melancholic,
and in wanting:
talk as if I had it

Pysanka

2008-09-15T02:37:00.003Z

Who is asking?
I'm not here

Barren as a pysanka
with all it's early promise
hunted by a serpent
and found wanting

Still quite hollow
If you dare to tap me

Weird Dreams Part II

2008-09-06T22:41:00.001Z

So I'm lying on this bed, right. Surrounded by photographers and agents and hangers-on. Because that's what I do, like. Being Gisele and that.

Through the window I see two dogs prowling. Rabid grey hounds, eyeing me up hungrily. I don't understand why, it's not like I'd make a very meaty meal. Suddenly everyone has left and I'm half-naked and windowless. The dogs make a run at me, snarling, I can see them baying for my blood, I can actually see it in their eyes, yeah? So I sprint out the door, sweat beading on me and stand out in the street. I can tell I'm their rabbit , but I stand still a while, terrified beyond reason, as the black one with the torn ear steps near.

Fuck. Now I'm swiping, battering with. What's this? The cardboard innards of a toilet roll? I kill one. It drops to my feet, the blood spurting-out, flowing and curling round my bare toes.

I'm running. Being pursued, feeling jaws clenching and nipping at my ankles I turn and furiously stab at the other one. I'm hitting his head hard, I hear his skull crack. In terror I turn a corner and grapple my way up a hill. I'm standing in the street in what looks like the Desperate Housewives set and noticing specks of dog's blood staining my slip, pesky stains.

A limping beast rounds the corner. It's snout is hanging off, it's scarred carcass shows the wounds of battle. I could have left it there. Walked away.

But I run back and kill it, smash it apart with the cardboard tube, leave a corpse in my wake.

2008-08-12T15:25:00.000Z

Mess is decadent for a while, at least
Then irksome, troublesome and woeful thereafter

So

2008-08-12T01:49:00.000Z

I am so bored of you
so wrecked of another
so drastically planning
my escape

riding one great wave yet tossed
so silently into the unformed sand
marking its caress with scars and purple prints
a lesson

I have two more this week:
one a gaping burn from the oven tray
another half moon sits in the crux of an arm

the second was immaculate
conceived unknowing
half smiling but too wide by half again

I have fallen
it is more real than anything so far encountered
more true than anything they give me
a part of me unlike any other

Tight

2008-07-05T22:26:00.000Z

I give you too little of myself,
that much is plain.
And as you tell me for the umpteenth time
That expression is not nine tenths of the law
And that I will not be charged on account of a giddy heart,
I nod.
And smile.
Although I have every and no idea what I am agreeing with.

Now come on.
I expect you imagine things will change.
But I hold fast.
These troops won't be mustered, you see,
They'll sit in their barracks playing Gin.
Not venturing a foot into new territory,
In hiding from an inevitable defeat.
And yes it is, and whether you are or are not, it will be.

amalgamation

2008-06-03T23:10:00.000Z

There are parts of you that take me back
And see me stand in those shoes again
To taste the ice poured from the lips
Of him, or him, and him

There is some heat in me, darling
My left breast chokes and splutters
The little engine that couldn't
Exhales the pressure, a tear assumes the position

I see so much of them in you
Where once warmth burst forth
Now Cheshire smiles, tip of the hat, sex in the eyes
Now damaged, now cold, thou art, your heart.

Weird Dreams Part II

2008-05-02T13:10:00.001Z

The sun is rising , the smell of summer wafts as the heat conducts itself most tirelessly./ Of heat upon decking of blinding white plastic, of suncream and salt and sand and spice.

The po-faced one says "you will have to throw them from here," and here, we do./ Silks and satins balooning like jellyfish from great heights.

"and now you had better wash them, see as Martha does" although we don't know why/ but out step we on our pretty-little toes to save us from the sun-beat boards

from the dock with a yard of wood stirring, we gather our clothes on the sea-bed/ a circular rug breaks free and has to be recovered, some horrid beast in raggedy reds and blues

I had rather it would leave. Quite how this is getting anything clean no one dares ask/ but we mangle and we place the clothes upon ourselves and we walk to the rehearsal.

There are many faces, I walk alone in procession, bearing gifts, catching eyes. /That one there, I foiled her plan. She was to have made a fool of me. Was it me?

Or was it the stern-faced one who barked? No matter. No matter./ Still she scowls and is gone, into a sea of android women with moon faces.

The booth, the group, is waiting. I scurry and take my place amongst their chatter./ We drink, throwing our heads back lewdly, as the pearls are placed and the coal-dust lines our eyes.

Something is placed around my neck, I lean forward to have it clasped but I am jolted back/ The sudden silence of the room deafens. Begging now, to be let loose, but I am strung pearls.

I can't breathe. No really, I can't breathe. And I don't know if I am quite dreaming./ In front of the crowds she drags me, limp, releasing me in a room, to the side.

Let off, I stab the wide, blank face behind. The one who tried to make a fool has succeeded/ and is sitting straight, her spectacles resting upon a sliver of a nose.

"I'm suing you for GBH" I croak in a voice which is not mine and run into the lobby./ "Why didn't you stop her?" I rasp to a chorus of shrugs.

The sensible mistress, for I assume that is her, steps forward/ "You see dear girl, noone likes you, we just don't like you"

The crowd murmurs in accession, giggling churlishly in places./I cry.

I wake bolt upright, my heart thumps beneath my breast and my throat pains me.

In dire need of excitement

2008-03-19T00:44:00.000Z

'when it rains, it pours'
except this time it didn't
against my better wishes
the roof didn't fall through
the rain didn't dampen my duvet
but the bed was covered in hail
which was some small consolation

brown paper packages tied up with string

2008-02-02T02:55:00.000Z

I am bound
face down, a pillow of pine.

blinded, I am not meant to see, but
through the very corner of my eye
I stare at the flickering,
the legacy of the draft through the window
where the candles have basked and faltered
and left such hollows and ridges for me

for others.
how many have eyed this scene?

too late, a hand now, I count the inflictions
I am encrusted,
the wax shell-like upon my back
a charmed tortoise, I smile as
the exquisite sharpness
drowns me once more, and
as new heat pools on sore skin

Sublime.
That's what they call it.

flashback

2008-01-09T21:13:00.001Z

This is the last time I saw you.
The first time I really saw you,
beckoning from the long-grass.
I knew, I knew everything.
This is where I take my leave. Soon.

I could never tell you then
That I had seen the snake with shedded skin
Come ever so sharply into focus in the forefront
It had had your eyes, your mouth
And from those serpent lips, her name upon it's tongue.

Later as we fucked
I begged for destruction
For it was the only real thing you had given me
I turned and shut my head in the pillows,
so you wouldn't see the saline welling.

'Come now, I'm ruined', I say to myself.
A shrug and I face away, holding your sweaty hand in mine
but I don't clasp it any more, do you notice?

Later still, Lying still, to the wall, to the barrels, blinded,
Letting your gentle snores
Mask my laboured breathing.
I didn't sleep that night,
I was working up the courage to walk out

Such elaborate games I played for myself alone
That you did not know was that you did not win
I swallowed so many keys that day
And locked so many doors
That I may not let another in

crashing

2008-01-07T02:41:00.000Z

i can't hear you if you're calling
there's a whispering fog stalling
quiet footsteps in the hall and
crashing waves upon the sand

Serpentine

2007-12-29T18:51:00.000Z

Your graces fall on deaf ears,
The heat rises, glowing amber from hollow sockets.
The body, the skin, still human at least,
Serves an anchor to the great unleashed.

This also is one of the dark places of the earth,
Serpentine.

Your fire, your blackness, your tendrils upon my throat,
Caress a soul I no longer recognise, smother a girl I do not know.
Crushing wouldn't mind no man's might
With scroll for an empty chalice, simply fill me.

Awakened, a hesitant Chimera now crackles
A ribald mind unravels, ripe fruit,

Ready but for the taking if you would my
Serpentine.

I Remember Me

2007-12-14T23:03:00.000Z

There are not enough faces. Your own gapes back
at you on someone else, but paler, then the moment
when you see the next one and forget yourself.

It must be the dreams that make us different, must be
private cells inside a common skull.
One has the others look and has another memory.

Despair stares out from tube trains at itself
running on the platform for the closing door. Everyone
you meet is telling wordless barefaced truths.

Sometimes the crowd yields one you put a name to,
snapping fiction into fact. Mostly your lover passes
in the rain and does not know you when you speak.

~Carol Ann Duffy

Hallow

2007-12-09T22:29:00.001Z

My mind was misty,
clogged.
So I started with the sink,
mismatched bowls and plates in a heap.

But it wasn't really quite enough
and my hands were itching
so I set to work heaving and
piling the furniture
ready for attack
but it didn't suck so I had to
hit it repeatedly and flush the
dead skin and the hair and the
indescribables into the night air.

Then of course the nose starts itching,
it always starts itching and the sneezing soon after
but that can be combated with a slow strip
to the hum of the hoover and another shot of icy vodka.

It will all need mopping and dusting and shining:
the floors, the windows, the doors
nothing will get away, I'll make sure of it
I even polish the cracks in the sill
and the wall, it's grubbiness offends me
but as I squeeze the sponge out
and the water whitens it is more than the grime that is letting go.

And so we must, the entire wall, to make the
change in tone less apparent
but in the dark they shouldn't notice
I contemplate taking the lightbulb out
but think better of it - I can't reach.

I have inhaled enough polish and
drunk enough bleach and it is complete:
cold, clean, unforgiving,
spotless and quite beautiful
in the way that infinity should be.

Slowing to a murmur
from a whirring escapade
hanging limp,
disheveled and stained

2007-11-22T16:16:00.003Z

a shimmer

of pain

mirage, you are

in your hot, hot heat

like quake, quiver, ripple

rise up

an apple

and choke, chafe, writhe

as I

breathe deep

and hold on

tempest

2007-11-21T07:36:00.001Z

and in that infernal sob
something echoed against mine
quite possibly it was kindred
but i could be mistaken

gusty and precious and stormy it was

fair, fairer, fairest

2007-11-21T06:53:00.000Z

I am terrified of this place:
the mirror stark and unforgiving,
dust balling in great swathes on the laminate.
Standing stock-still, eyes diverted
to middle distance and no further.
Lets not look upon it
'case a choking tear alert
and beacon unending disgrace.

Yet when the urge swells in me
momentarily I forget, it matters not
that cold, ugly shells encase.
But the sugar wings are shards now
delinquent in their grace
The shame, the shame of
vulgarity never ceases to amaze.

The Rubaiyat

2007-11-11T20:28:00.000Z

The Moving Finger writes; and having writ,
Moves on; nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word.

Isn't it a fucker when karma is spent?

2007-11-09T12:02:00.000Z

See the person you prayed on high would rot in squalor and shame
So early win the prize
And you're okay, you guess, not bad thanks for asking,
But haven't bagged the rosette, haven't a trophy to raise triumphant.

To say in passing, arms aloft and apathetic eye:
"Look. See. it was you all along,
Bad apple, not me.
I've won my reparations fair and square."

Why aren't you in a bedsit, like I pictured:
Making tea with soured milk,
Eating your cellophane cuisine alone
Touching yourself under soiled sheets as you dream of me?

Fuck your precious "love"
Your unending "commitment"
All of your abortive words
You of all people do not deserve them

You know what?
I want nothing of you
not love, certainly not love!
Getting even would be enough,
but it doesn't seem to be working out that way.

holey shit

2007-10-29T11:05:00.000Z

dreaming, waking,
it doesn't seem to have disappeared
my little sandman
now fuck off
I want you gone by the time I count to ten
now closing my eyes

and open wide, good girl
but against better wishes
it still is.
unforgiving,
I'd hope you'd leave
now if i just batten down once more...

I am surprisingly indifferent
but feel every modicum urging panic
There's a hole in your fucking leg!
Maybe a nickname would lighten?
The Littlest Hole-bo?
Oh shut-up it's not even remotely funny.

I dab an antidote
touch cavity by mistake
it sucks to my fingertip
dry skin to open wound
an unenthusiastic wet smacking
my stomach turns

just tell me to shut up

2007-10-26T23:49:00.000Z

here in an un-made bed
empty cans and bottles littering
crushed twenties of silk-cut purple
droning through floorboards gravely base of late-night hosts

here incarcerated sit
60watts of barren bulb dim to fit
the disrobed fragility of the unkempt
as the windows grow bars and the door clicks close

2007-10-19T23:26:00.000Z

It's a little grinding, the commute
against the rails, with the cheap seats
but mostly on my nerves.

probably

2007-10-19T16:24:00.000Z

I feel eroded. I think there's something there. But all they wanted was a fuck in the afternoon. So I rebel. I play their game as best I can. I use, and in using make space for improvement. I'm sure it should have happened by now. This was only meant to be a temporary measure. And doesn't everyone just say that its going to happen. When? Soon, soon. I begin to think I am unmatchable.

"Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"

2007-10-18T17:41:00.000Z

An exhaling quivering
condensed
into pure rapture

A waking bracing
delectation
stirred inside

The impassioned gospel
beguiling
to an overture

Now fracturing deep
enchantment
as it will never be

irresistable, still
you are compulsion
to me

thirst

2007-09-27T22:40:00.000Z

i can feel you yielding, conceding.
that engulfing suppleness of mind,
ripe for the taking

i carve my initials into you, heels down,
your skin surrendering soft, swollen scars
to my burgeoning caress

if anything were meant to be, it is this,
a toast to a consummate thirst,
and to our reckless lust.

duress

2007-09-23T07:43:00.000Z

It is in this moment that you realise
that life stumbled out into the crowd
to be torn to pieces
and sowed and reaped
by those who did it proud.

And all you have become and ever will
in a backward glance when time stood still
and slowly dawned the resignation
that all that you've left are rattling diffusions
and a slowly numbing thrill

For all the times it hurt, I'll hold you
and break away you might well try
the silk it binds your soul, dear girl
for we are one, same skin, same mind

bound by sweet duress

and the pain begins to rise

100% concentrate of boredom

2007-09-22T17:58:00.000Z

Fragile
Framboise

Just
Jalapeno

Pesilent
Peach

Lagoubrious
Lychee

Expectant
Egg

Chivalrous
Carrot

There needs to be

2007-09-20T23:51:00.002Z

Something to fill the interim,
But I couldn't tell you what it was.

It's probably the time to say
That I've broken the sacred pact,
That I gave up with the jigsaw
(On trying to find a match)
And flung myself at the mercy
Of another vile catch.

Back to old habits, I say!
Sitting here
Sipping on
My pint of pinot rose.

The wine may be the reason for this awful shitty poem
ner ner n-ner, ner ner n-ner, ner ner n-ner ner owe 'em.

prick

2007-09-15T02:31:00.002Z

stop pinning your hopes on me

when I purl you round

and cast you off

don't act surprised

you knew

O sweet bean!

2007-08-23T01:36:00.002Z

Large, two milks, no sugar,
Dearest, you are sweet enough for me!
Its a waiting game,
But I have no patience.

Scald my pink tongue,
And redden my snatching fingers.

O sweet bean!
Swaddled with mother's love,
Cocooned in Colombian groves,
(or so I like to think).

You were probably freeze-dried in Dudley.

escitalopram dreams

2007-08-08T23:58:00.002Z

My mind is already traipsing
Deep

Deeper

Into
The lush undergrowth

The burning shore and azure water there ahead
I step lightly, swiftly, wanting

To feel hot dew balls of sweat on my scarlet skin
To feel free and alive inside
As I sweep through the baking heat.

Quickly, Go!
This place is killing me.

My heart slows
Down, Down, Down
If I don’t run I’ll turn to stone

I fear I’ll never leave this place
A monolith to failure
A statue in an empty room

Vines will wrap their clawing tendrils
Once, Twice
'Round.

Like Medusa’s serpents, imprison me:
Like a forgotten ruin, coddle me,
And suffocate this dream of mine.