i am the swan

[iamtheswan]

untitled

.

it's alright. we don't know love

and all its stuffy, secret geography

that make it work. but

we're building bridges, crossing them

redesigning old ones, burning others

new struts on the battered.

when the gods get vengeful

and i'm smashing coffee cups

and your conference's cancelled

- maybe i am the ground, and

you're the sky, looking for an ocean -

let's light the twisted candle,

get out of the cycle. let's go

turn the lights on, i'm not

finished with this feeling, but all the old

one's healing. 

.

[iamtheswan]

bridges

.

i said

we'll cross them when we come to them

redesign when we walk on them

see how we feel,

see what it means

to be together in other lands-

.

we'll build them from wood

we'll build them from stone

we'll build them when nobody's at home

we'll take to our dreams

and see if we can make them

real-

.

you build the beam

i'll build the arch

and maybe when we decide to part

we'll leave them there so no-one has to start

afresh-

.

maybe the rain will rot them,

the rust will get to them,

swallowed up in a thousand waves of water

they'll fall apart

but we'll never have to start

afresh

.

[iamtheswan]

saturday

.

it's almost time, the dreams i feel

just touching my skin, are like

kinetic watercolours.

.

sleep is so close. here,

with you, why do i

pretend to be so much in pain?

animal in me

wants you to note it

.

the great abyss of the night.

it is heavy, it is like

a great dark rain

hot sheathes of silk

updraft from hell

- heaven's hypocaust.

.

i know you do not lie.

but the poet, awful as she is

is always, always 

the snake oil salesman. 

.

there's tiny arrowheads

behind my eyes.

the mingling shades, it is

a curtain shop for the blind

i fall a little deeper

.

skin on skin, and i love the

padding of the skeleton.

naked bones are too harsh,

too true. humans can't stand it

we've been conditioned thus -

electrocution by love

.

[iamtheswan]

comfort

.

you've committed all the colours

and time can't move any slower than this.

how deep and sweet is religion,

with your little feet paddling underneath?

you promised yourself tomorrow

would be the day before you die.

how hard and cold are love and hate, 

now your little feet can't paddle anymore

you sinking swan you

?

.

[iamtheswan]

before

.

the sun will turn to ash

the moon will turn to stone

the earth will rot away

and death be here to stay

the seasons will all stop

the universe break down

the sand will turn to glass

before this love comes to pass

before i'm over you

before the feeling's gone

before i hold your hand

on the last day i can stand

.

[iamtheswan]

hoper

.

there's snowmen, out on the lawn,

awaiting death, requiems

to be written. the sun is almost out

of the black bag, the first sunbursts

creeping up the grass, and

although your heart's in your boots

you look out, look up. it's still

the same month, the same season

but somehow leaf on little leaf

summer's building up. 

.

[iamtheswan]

atheist on his deathbed

.

he's all ready to sick his soul out from his head,

and then devour it down again, not be devoured.

he tore down a forest to make this bed,

but sleeping the night away, felt robbed.

with a tiny piece of hell inside his chest,

he envisions Asclepius - cool snakes over him

like stone thighs gripping him to giddiness. 

he feels the world isn't turning after all. 

it's stars, conducting icy wars and orchestras.

he's all ready to start his soul believing again

just in time to redeem, not be redeemed here.

with a cold cool handshake from life he's off.

.

[iamtheswan]

human

.

we're living things, with blood and brains,

we soak up the sun and get soaked in rains,

we destroy and destroy till it's us that remains

we eat drink and fuck till we go insane

.

[iamtheswan]

afraid

.

i never cry.

tears, like fears, are foreign -

spiders, drunks, murderers -

i just walk away.

i've seen these things -

seen far too much -

much more than i wanted to. 

i didn't do anything, didn't save them -

i couldn't feel how they did. 

it didn't hurt, watching it -

just made my eyes weird and watery.

i never thought i'd have to face those people again.

thought of nice things, chocolates, sweets,

would've thought of friends, but -

i wouldn't know. people say,

people always say. always talking,

moving, why? why can't they stand still?

how am i supposed to get a decent sketch?

i sit there, armed with my pencil and paper

not scared of anyone or anything. i don't need to be -

i've seen those things, and done those things -

but never have i met someone who hasn't

done something - even if they won't admit it.

i was on that train, and i saw those people die -

maybe i died too, part of me.

i can't remember any further back than tomorrow

.

[iamtheswan]

eve night

.

the trees have grown over everything,

black branches, trunks and leaves encompass

a great breathy night of forest skies;

the air is thick and thin with sleeps and vigils.

.

here, in this house, Somnus is king,

and Morpheus inherits; the child and the old

all count the phosphenes trickling down. 

the progeny wonder, the parents remember;

it's only this night that this darkness is so -

.

(and beauty may never wear what beauty is -

but the truth is that's what blackness is.)

.

[iamtheswan]

l'esprit de l'escalier

.

those words that sounded so good in bed,

well it's far too late to change what you said

the spirit on the staircase is already wed

and the conversation's long buried and dead. 

i know you want to skip back a few lines,

rewrite the scene how it was in your mind

but there's so many characters you need to find

and it's the walls of time they're hiding behind. 

and although you know the saboteur is you,

you should have said you were feeling blue

yes you can get better, that much is true

just rub out and change all the lines you drew

.

[iamtheswan]

seance

.

oh and if only someone else were dead

i need it tattooed on my wrist so i remember.

hell is the house i've always lived in.

.

my coffin's out on the river

and the grim smell of the tankard

he drowned in, fills it, and

the sawn-off shotgun sound of

a thousand cars backfiring up your street.

don't come knocking as chance or Death

or otherwise, she'll sell her skin for either

.

what a cycle. you say you know love

and all that stuffy secret geography

that makes it work. it's been a century

since we drank together, watching

the lapis clouds drift away, to lapis banks,

collect on the side.

.

[iamtheswan]

summer storm

.

some vengeful god

is throwing eggs at the house.

the milky rain splatters and stinks.

.

your skin is white as photographic paper.

the light ruins it. the rayograms

of the accident

.

it's terrifying

when it pours like this, so hard.

it's a crashing of cars,

not a drunken sleep

.

the origami swans

panic on the trembling table. 

all the dead spiders whisper through the walls

.

it's still hot, the heating's off.

all but the beating of wings

inside the microwave,

the stretching torsos in the boiler.

the sweating coffee cups. 

.

[iamtheswan]

denial

.

i'm not in love, it's just a bad habit

and the doctor said he'd break me of it

i'm not in love, no less than i'll admit

and the bully said he'd break me of it

i'm not in love, not even a little bit

i'll break his heart before i say it

i'm not in love, this room is barely lit

yet still no such crime will i commit

.

[iamtheswan]

no-one

.

no-one's perfect, because that means boring

but no-one's bored in his perfect glory

he sits and snake-waits but the apple tree's gone

by the imperfect humans on this earth he's on

he just wants a sniff of the sin we're taking

he just wants to laugh at the hearts we're breaking

.

no-one's happy, because that's so tiring

but no-one's tired, she's not happy lying

she sits and half-smiles but the tears just won't come

for the unhappy humans on this earth she's on

she just wants a taste of the blues we're playing

she just wants a glimpse of the world decaying

.

[iamtheswan]

perspective

.

trust me that everything would be a lot worse if you were the sea.

salt in your wounds, in your eyes

a whole world of sky beating down on you

and tiny ships with razor hulls

splitting down your skin.

and the sea has such a thin one.

such sparse silk sheets

between the underworld and heaven and here

.

[iamtheswan]

blue

.

those ugly mistakes

that you always make

you say that i'm wrong

but i'm singing this song

.

you're wading in leaves

but autumn is dead

you're trying to speak

the words in your head

.

the tears, they got stuck

the pencil won't write

you try to forget

you're scared of the light

.

you tear up the notes

the wind sent to you

you marry the sun

it burns you anew

.

your scarecrow got scared

the crows ate your mind

you try to recall

what you had to find

.

the days, they're so long

the days never end

your favourite nightmare

is just round the bend

.

you speak like you're dead

like nothing is true

see all the colous

suspended in blue

.

it's not up to you

it's not down to me

it's left to the world

it's right from the heart

.