Speak True My Friend

To speak
With false voice.
And smile
With false joy.
Is a skill to be
Cultivated
And cared for.
Yet to write
With fake words.
And a stolen style.
Will lead only
To revelations.
And tangles
Of lost souls.

On My Memorable Way

I no longer know
What a home is
To have.
Nor what a place
Is to stay.
As my feet are
Worn from moving.
On and over all.
My spirit used to
Jumping from love
To next obsession. 
For the illness
It runs deep.
From the scar that
Makes me move. 
Pushing me
To lands of light
Of deepest dark.
So, all I ask of you
Is a simple stone,
Where ever it was
My birth took place.
So even if I forget
All and more.
You might remember
Me.

The Body and The Bad Brain

I have a bad brain.
It wont do what I ask.
Some days it makes
Friends with ear worms.
Giving me looping
One line phrases.
Other times it
Hears things that
Were not said.

Ah yes I have
A bad brain.
Tangents are its
Favourite food.
And it waits until
I am old dog tired,
To wake up and
Spark like a fuse.

Indeed my poor brain,
Is badly behaved.
Problems it goes out
Of its way to create
Follow me day by day,
Chewing, destroying
Anything I need.

Yet my brain
For all its flaws
And tricks no treats
Is mine and makes
Me.
And me alone.

The Two of Me

I am here.
While my mind
Is there.
Anchored to mist.
Harder than
Anything
Concrete I can
Hold.
And so I have
The strange
Honor.
Of being two.
One is now
The other has
Been.
And a meeting,
Joining,
Is impossible.
While we still
Insist
On dwelling
Upon lost
Mysteries.

If Only I Could Remember

So enticing.
Your pearly
Opaque skin.
Defining beautiful. 
Your shapeless
Flowing form.
Achingly frustrating.
Your amoral
Forever nature.
Just maddening.
Your slippery
Ever fleeting
Ways.
And still for one
Second. 
I would give
Anything
To hold you.
Even more
To destroy you.

Industrial Decoration

A thin black shard
Of glimmering glass.
Grew up, stabbing
Through frosted ground.
Alone it stood
For exactly a year.
When another rose
To stand so tall.
They grew in number.
Twelve months each time.
Until one day.
They started to move.
Entwining one another.
Twisting, spinning
Higher and higher.
Forming a trunk.
Cut glass and hard.
Just the very tops
Spikes to the floor.
Hang back down.
And once in ten
Years to the day.
They bloom.
Crystal flowers.
The closest mirror
Of nature
That we can remember.

Sorry We Missed You

The letter just said
‘To live’
No sender.
Or return address.
Years later
Another arrived.
It just said
‘Try harder
To live, my friend’
And so they carried on.
Asking more,
Yet more of me.
Till I gave all I had.
To life,
As it passed.
Until the final
Breath escaped. 
Fluttering the letters
To the floor.
Where they lie
To this day.
Unmarked.
No stamps cover them.
Because they
Never had been
Posted.

Keep Us Spinning

You took an eye
For an eye.
And invented currency.
Leaving us all
Half blind.
And fumbling.
For the other,
The piece we signed.
Over to you.
For what we paid,
Means that the
Picture can never be
Whole again.
And yet we keep
Giving.
Eyes
For.

The Past Walks

A shadow falls
Over my shoulder.
Stretching away
In to the distant future.
Where every footprint
Is two then four.
Each breath
Has an echo.
And silence will not
Find me its friend.
Because I can never
Be free.
Alone.
Again.

Sand Storm

She span. 
And span on.
Until sand began
To whirl.
Catherine wheels
Of granular glass
Flew like razor wings
And she.
A small white goddess.
At the centre of her
Own deadly storm.
Laughing. 
Whipping all
Too slow to run.
Staining red
The day the
Lady of sand
Struck.