Monday, 17 September 2012

No Hesitation




and then you turn
to me and say
'do you recall when 
you grabbed your grandmother's
old wicker chair
and cracked me over
the head with it?'

we swap hot coffee for
warm red wine and i
giggle and nod with a smile
we swim, sink and
resurface in memories as
the smoke from our cigarettes
dilutes our laughter

we speak of smashing plates,
restraints
and foul actions parallel to love
then you
move in and try to kiss me
and i
feel myself sicker 
then the night 
we ended up
throwing up bile
together

There Is No One To Take Care Of You Now


I propel myself forward with an energy

So rarely seen in one so sickly
With one arm caught up in my jacket
 The other grabbing
At my hair
My fingers twisted and pulling
Displaying tangled frantic behavior from asylums
and nightmares

I bare the whites of my teeth
I bare the whites of my eyes
Wild and showing the moon*

I scream about pain and love
And fucking and
Dig my nails into my own skull and
Shake and smile

Why won’t you wait for me
Why won’t you come back for me

I spin around as my ankles give way on the flooring
And I am just another drunk trying to stay sane on
A Wednesday morning.



My eyes roll
The top row of teeth melts over my jaw
 And my limbs are splayed in
The most impossible
Awkward angles
I heard music in the background
Jangle ‘I am sailing on the sea’

My fingers feel the street first, licking
Back at the forever wetted cobbles
Before my body goes down
And I see everything around me in a
Split second
Beautiful and grey and smeared with black

 You were always in my visions and
I already thought I was on my knees

Briefly I start to live again as you
Pace towards me and
I close my eyes and push my face forward
As if I am about to kiss the sun*

But as I search you
There is no light for Mass in your eyes


 

Wednesday, 9 May 2012

Polite Notice

You and your girls

In and around the bar

Monday, 21 November 2011

For the King Rat on his Birthday. (You're not Punk, and I'm telling everyone.)


The chapter never ends if
You do not read the last line
So we pull it on and over
Into Real Life where
You get bigger and stronger
And take me with you
Like a current, swept up
Pulling me along
A caring wave that
Will not stop until we reach the shore


‘I believe that I hate you more than anything
Else in the world’ are the truest words
You ever penned and
The pain in which we celebrate and devour each other
Is the marrow core of what we are because
We are not a work of fiction.



- For Beau Voge

Sunday, 20 November 2011

Thursday, 3 November 2011

Waltzing


I’m not sure who you are
But the way you are going
          I’m going too
You’ve got something of the Devil in you

I am the birth
And you are the death
Together we are change

Wednesday, 2 November 2011

2nd November 2011, 21:58.

'Yeah, but we love each other....
But it doesn't mean we have to have a 'relationship'.
I'd much rather read your writing
Than do your washing up.'

Sidenote

"Make sense," Fielding said,
"Tell the real story of your life. You alone
Can tell the truth!"
"I don't want to make any sense," I replied.

I'm too ugly to go out into the world.
I'm a hideous monster.

- Kathy Acker: 'The Adult Life of Toulouse Lautrec.'

Dry Dock

it’s ten o’clock, time
to leave

pack
up
ship
out
 
sail

only
now
            the motor’s broken.

Saturday, 29 October 2011

Little Bird

'I'm in love' she spat, pounding
My chest with her tiny fists
That felt like birds fluttering
                        Against
My ribcage.

I thought my ribs caged a love
                                                For her.

But there between my arms
And cold stare, I knew that I could
Crush her.

Wednesday, 26 October 2011

Tuesday, 25 October 2011

Hold Tight


Grey ash rises
And I feel my skin and bones
Changing
I am decaying


Watch
The cinders sit like oil
On the water
And I fall
Like a penny
Down into the depths
No hope and lost rope
I leave you content

Below the waves
For you have already touched the sky

My hand
Your chest
An accidental death

Friday, 21 October 2011

As Distance moves Closer, Remember, Never lasts Forever.

Same Old


With One word or
One look, it’s over.
When just before I was about ready
To stand up and shout
Out about this crazy little thing called ‘Swoon’.
But with you I’ve learnt how quick
Instant really is. That tone of voice
 Or your head
In those hands makes me cough
Up that lump in my throat for
A little bit of attention,
That stuff that made me ‘Smitten’.
So when the change comes,
As it has come before, the mood is more
Suited to those willing to fight for the
Sake of it,
 When I’d rather scream for the love of it.

Wednesday, 1 June 2011

swing open, door!





Grit, gravel and spit,
Bonfires lit, then dampened
With sentiments cast out like runes,
Unfulfilled and self fulfilling, twisting
In pockets
Where graven, holy hands
Finger them smooth as golden eggs,
And keep them warm until they burst.

Sunday Morning



You have eyes like an
Egyptian cat.
Now,
There’s a story
Behind that. ‘They aren’t mine’
I say.
I borrowed them.
I met him playing dice in the alleyway.
In the dark.
Playing dice with a scarab beetle.
Howling and cackling.
Drinking from strong bottles and
Betting with caps. His eyes, I remember
I promised to bring them back.
With a plump and juicy rat
Caught
Between my own teeth, and
Wrapped
Within my own hair.

Harry for Henry, Forever.


My bedroom best-friend.

A Hint (beginning of the end)







she said 'thank you
for the Turkish
Delight last night,
among other things'