Utterances

Utterances. pic

 

as we speak

we cling like partners in a dance

to our very own alphabet

drawn tight by desire

and we would, if we could

make a frieze of the trick

of language

 

the swollen air we launch in speech

is full of gifts

and on reflection it is sad

that so many are returned unheard

in the transmission of loss

that only time

in its wise fractions can attest

Not if nor when nor never then…

 

Not if nor when nor never then... pic

nourished by the sounds they make

I go on

blindly, more in hope than

 with any resolution that could give me strength

 for they seem to rise and fall

with reason

whatever that tidal condition is

and I puff and pant

metaphorically

on the diaphragm of this worlds’

bleeding conscience

never sure whether I have

enough words

to fill the space vacated

by reason

whose box of tricks and verbal tics

confuse me, refuse me

make waste where there was scant

room for loss

and though I am mostly moribund

I have such faith in beauty

like the perennially scorned lover

who draws the line at suicide

I continue to weave in the traffic

of words

trailing in their vapour, their scent

in thrall to an elusive sense

of reason.

Fault Lines

Fault Lines.jpg

Forever in the half light

held back by the hand of small

and always, yes always

feeling slight

yet heavy with this sense of loss

This burden like a trope

Afflicting types. My type

Leaving shadows on scenes

and spaces in lines of instruction

lingers on into my dotage

Passively disabling with irony

Where in my youth it was savage

incurring cold treasonous cuts

from an unsteady sense of self-esteem

And later, in my teens

the villains moved in as if

responding to a half-life

ignited by demons that clamoured

at an ill fitting door

I let myself go.

Dodgems. ( or tangled thoughts )

Dodgems.jpg

Opinions differ sharply

Into a melt of emotions

Skittish, as if, attached to volts

running through thin metal wire.

Suspended from,

an ornate ceiling

with flashing lights and loud music

that throbs

robs rational thought

from the orbs that register

this spectacle. Fantastic. Confusing.

A dodgem ride in a public place

with showers of

anonymity.

That cloak for unspeakable deeds.

Thames. River-side

Thames. River side

Thames. River side

I see the river and ache

I love this place

This manor, in which I am a lordly presence

Mine now and memories

But all the familiar smells

The scope of my nostalgia

This safety

Is it vanity?

Would I vouchsafe it all

Glibly, for golden sands in the Grenadines

Pose with chromatic lenses above a cocktail

Dream sweep a panorama “of it all”

In that am I shallow?

These feelings come to me

Disturb me because I need

Truth and beauty

I fear decay. Any wanton loss

Any light that shines upon

My frailty

All the lies and half-truths

That have bled from me

They are stains

Rust around the lettering

The messages I see.

About Face

About Face

About Face

Love torn from a healthy limb

The lover with the loss mourns

Everywhere is stained

Where pain seeps and shrieks

There is an infection of loss

So corrosive it pervades all known limits

To outpace normal life

The witnesses and family

Are caught in a tsunami,

of uncooked grief

Tendrils of revenge

And the clamour of self-pity

But when all is said and done

It is just the opposite of a smile.