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III

A brain in lethargy, slow and thoughtful, the best I can find to work with I fear, though I've often noticed how easy it is to rashly speak my mind without a filter

in drowsy half-slumbered sleepiness. So if you are awake, please show me if you feel a spark. It may not be so tactile or even graspable with meaning but even

so I'd like you here to hold and have. Not like that, but essentially; you have a certain faculty in smoulder which chokes and grabs into comfort.

I am both the instigator and the object of you and I without a reason or plan. You may be the likes of which I never saw, and even if there is more time in plenty,

tonight will never come again. So awake I stay in vigil over a blanket still reserved as yours. Your warmth by mine would make this slumber softer still.

29/12/2014

#poetry #III

Furrows

Into shadows I step. Into darkness I fall.

On blankets of freedom this mind once knew home, a slumber of sighs in expansive embrace. It always amazes how sudden a change may turn once so sweet to so bitter a taste.

If the brain is a vessel for me to employ then fatal am I to assume it owes me a cloudless clear sky or a clarity caged in pockets of weakness. In sadness to be

opaque, cluttered, devoid of ideas I once held as real; in full rule and sway they danced in my favour and spurred on the night. Now only in lacking, unsleeping I stay.

A darkness so pressing is choking my mind, I need to escape. Oh where can I find a candle, a matchstick, anything, please don't let this be the end!

The fog is my blanket, the cold is my chair, the solitude thickening with fear from his lair. So steady my shaking and ready my call. Into shadows I step. Into darkness I fall.

12/12/2014

#poetry #furrows

Two Chapters

Sufficient inspiration, perhaps, to note on paper where it took me. A long hour spent to see you sharpen, point direction on my life and leave.

Ungrateful I may be. Or let us put it another way, for the pathway set left riches far beyond the tide I trod with your stare scorching my tender neck.

Some credit where it may be due...

Let an epiphany be called as such, for - dramatic though it may now seem - as digestion on a thesis stands I felt a greater stillness break.

Soft. Slow.

Too much weight given fast Will only lead to further fire. Yours need be a lighter touch To comfort eyes and leave desire For body or for thought unstirred In safer hands, expressed and heard.

10/12/2014

#poetry #two chapters

In Essence

in essence I would love to find an overbearing power and presence or - for want of better terms - omnipotence of being wrapped in all.

This is not to say that even once in avarice or malice would I turn the season dark or dance among the blackened ashes.

My essence is of you.

So such as birds make joy on song or words make right in poetry, as that would I rejoice in you in motion and simplicity.

A sigh of breath to speed my path in haste and ease to your side or to sooth your pain and birth your smile or calm and press the worries all away

into sweet abliss

Such essence I have not yet found, but by and by we’ll make it right to feel alive and free and whole in essence - I will fix this blighted night.

05/03/2014

#poetry #in essence

Resplendent, Repeat

Do you hear it still?

The windowsill, the rush, the flame, The fallen hearts and mended loves, The aftermath, the guilt, the shame, The deep refresh to save this life again.

Years pass in delicate hurricanes That weathered storm could sweep aside Our joy and break, a gilded rose, Forever pushing us inseparable to close.

To find a watch where ever safe I feel enwrapped in warm arms, Burning lips, soft eyes The rest and heat away from darkened skies.

A life was saved in both our points And each is owed the other but in kind, Sweet melodies. The darkness drawn away Anew, again, no better way to stay

In love? Unquestionably so. I fear not when in you I find my place. Alive? I swear to never feel A comfort better blessed than by your grace.

I am yours and we are us And we have hope and we have trust And it is sin to call a plan In which your arms were never mine to touch.

I love you. Then what more should I say sweet? So then, as truly yours, I savour for the next time You I meet.

14/02/2014

#poetry #resplendent repeat

Inasmuch Hysteria

I hate.

With a passionate smile of disconnected tongues and rotting teeth. Slipping into self denial and a left wing right style of thinking. Call my bluff or paint me purple. The grin stays, the failure plays the pipes anew at dawn. And the gates are yet ajar for your remission…

-toloveistolose. but what care we of that?

20/04/2012

#poetry #inasmuch hysteria

Hall's Croft

Once again I am useless. An empty shell without a frame. Give or regret, hate, want, Feel, what does that mean? What is it to care, love, be, Exist? Waste away. Decadent self destruction.

I wrought this for myself. This throne is my coffin and I the undertaker Forged the steel, Bolted the nails, Composed ones own Epitaph. So to speak.

What are pills? But Shallow premonitions Aimed at suffocating A flame not yet afire. Increase lucid vividity But leave the author at Seventeen down.

Burn my ashes and Swallow the dust. Yet ne’er contrive thyself So highly as to scoff "Thou must".

13/04/2012

#poetry #halls croft

Try A Different Use of Person

Time to face the music sunshine. Things can’t be okay. Shift and change pushes You

away.

Damage dealt. Karma won’t satisfy until you are Under ground.

Chuckle. Brush off. It’s not really like you didn’t see this coming. Misfailure on fortune’s blown you

asunder.

Down boy. Get used to the prison, Your sentence isn’t close to termination and I can guarantee they’ll draw it out for just as long as that god awful play you always said you hated, the drone at the end of an underkept barrel goes.

Longer, maybe. As long as possible. I don’t know. Sorry.

Pardon me, that was always Your favourite word was it not?

Scratch, grip, Scratch, grip, Scratch. Never any left to Scratch, grip, Scratch, grip onto a Scratch, but never any Blood.

Try a knife next time.

It isn’t like you Try very hard. Well, begrudgingly, maybe, critically and self importantly.

Whining.

"Why can’t everyone just be like Me? I try so hard and get nothing. From anyone.”

Apathetic pathos pathetic.

Get a grip pal, if you don’t mind me saying. The same shoe can fit both feet. More, if it chooses.

She has just as much right to walk out tonight as You.

More, maybe.

Steal her shoes - if you like - but for god’s sake leave the door open.

We don’t want a mess like last time now, do We?

12/04/2012

#poetry #try a different use of person

Sever Secure

Do you hear it darling? It rustles through the eaves, Trembles the rafters and sinks down through walls, Ricochets across the floorboards, seeps into the cracks Of your bed, the duvet, the pillows, it calls.

The seat of this heart was forged in flame. It died in winter, and though spring never came The kindling sparked afresh each day in An instance to be smothered in frost all the same.

The sound is there, though you can’t hear it; You shut out cacophony to bathe in reticence As clear and captive as sky is tied By earth, its mistress, to shun the sentience.

He knocks, he echoes, he feels your heat That hides and rallies and sinks to rest. Your mind is shut, yet still he knocks against The locks. He thinks his mettle blessed.

You know his face, he knows your step. He waits for you under baited breath, If ever from your shell should slip He’ll catch your mind from feinted death.

Funny how when waiting wrought you weary And stirred your mind to search anew, Only when crossed apart the final time Did he regret the years denying you.

He’ll try to shut it out, as you shut in, But never was a hider of devotion, Recessed ardor and undefined feeling; Scrabbling for the auspice in your ocean.

Open. I promise you shall hurt no more, And I will cradle all the past you fear. Open. The sake of each our futures blessed Motions for the chances we take here.

29/03/2012

#poetry #sever secure

A Couplet

Prohibit me my love, my love, and blanket out desire Yet never claim I left our kiln decline without a fire.

26/03/2012

#poetry #couplet

A Blank Page

Here comes the wash. The flood of colour, Of love and pain. The tranquil parlance 'Twixt life and stain.

I let it come. My shirt grows damp In sultry shores, As I surrender my body To nature’s jaws.

The sun is a beacon. It dazzles the water, Butters the coast In moisture crumbling Coarseness. A pitiful boast.

While beauty seems rife, My beacon too hot Burns all to sky. Still calm feels trapped And falters to fly.

He claims all back, In the end, it only Ever was but a gift Fleeting in passing, A shortshore drift

Away from us. Away from us Who once seemed care Eternity blessed No word too fair.

Still yet we hope, And hope why not? Too handsome is life To waste away In self-moulded strife.

My beacon lives yet, And water still laps At my toes. A breeze Stirs soothing air On bended knees.

This well was wanted These past months hence, And sorry am I My sight lent not My sufferance an eye.

Would you were here What would you say? Would you repent, Relapse, repeat, Rekindle, relent?

Would you return? Can your plastered Mask slacken soft And convince me to The love I lost?

I could not hold you. As Hamlet’s love I am consumed Too deep with loss To cradle care exhumed.

Here is sanctuary now. Not trust in man, Which changes heart But sleep in solace Drifting apart.

I waken to gulls Calling lover to friend. My naked arms Play host to hums Devoid of harm.

'Tis not yet dark, So while ahead I still can gaze, To her I make in Repassioned glaze.

Here comes the wash. The flood of colour, Of love and pain, Leaving my other A blank page again.

23/03/2012

#poetry #a blank page

Trying

I try. Damn it. Damn them, Fuck them all. You don’t understand And you’ll never fucking try. Who do I have to turn to now? I’ve been deserted by the ones I loved, Turned to dust by those I don’t And those I do haven’t done All that much less. When Does this end? Death? Slipping, Shaking In a car am I Safe?

23/03/2012

#poetry #trying

Crazy

What is it that gives us the right To judge? force out labels and brands Onto products we barely understand, As if it will allow us to sleep at night.

Pseudo-sympathy is a pathetic aim, You can’t know until you’ve wrenched Through the same. Disbenched Yourself to fully appreciate pain. "Crazy they call it, the way you deal with this hand. It’s freaks like you who populate our shallow ‘banter’ on feigned self-worth. You make me feel sick by simply existing.”

Crazy? Tell me, how is it crazy to love, Or desire or cry or hope Or be destroyed when we can no longer cope? How is it crazy to express what we truly, unaccountably, Incomprehensibly feel. Through words Or music, or playing the fucking piano, Tell me, how is it crazy to create? To experience beauty, to die for virtue, To live in want of love And the fulfilment of another’s desires. To be a man who makes an angel feel safe, Safe in the tangle of a simple embrace. Tell me how I, her, him, them, Any of us are crazy for wanting that life. You can’t understand because you Don’t know Strife. You only live for the shallow sluts Who keep the hemline high and your ego satisfied.

Well I’ve got a different idea Of what makes existence worth The time we set down from birth To death. To keep our vision clear, Our ears to the wind, souls to be Every breath infected with care. Maybe then the passing there Will wear the way to set us free.

20/03/2012

#poetry #crazy

Overleaf of Sheet Music

We failed again today. Not purposeful avoidance, Nor a lack of desire To catch your eye. Or to speak my mind in private.

Twice you crossed my path, Or near enough took A parallel lane, though doors Claustrophobic corridors and crowded rooms Separated us.

From each other glance Beckoned a renewed chance, but I was needed elsewhere, and There is always tomorrow. I hope you heard me play.

It was renewed for your benefit, I know you like the sound of Fingers riffling across the keys. I don’t play perfectly, but I try With all I might to make you smile.

You probably didn’t notice anyway. But there is always tomorrow.

19/03/2012

#poetry #overleaf of sheet music

Melatonin + Fluoxetine

He stood as sentinel, counting down the hours Until sleep could overtake the ticking of the lonely alarm clock. Shadows passed across his pallid face, illuminating the scars Scratched like ditches by her final mistake. Held the lock Against his collared turmoil with trembling grip, Exhaled, absorbed the coastline, unbuckled the weathered key And let it slip.

His mother never warned him what might happen And his pa was gone by this point, so he didn’t even know. They stuffed his mind with cursory diagnoses, raped His being of all save the name. Left nought to regrow The limbs she had so subtly sucked away. Emotion hasn’t been here for a while, Whatever he may say.

But pills can clear the brain so that The heart might stand against the pain. And as the passing rain rolls on Let sorrow flee, my heart remain.

Darling, please be patient if I lend it to you, And don’t let my regrets be the death of you too.

15/03/2012

#poetry #melatonin #fluoxetine #zopiclone

Underwater.

In the end we’re all just waiting to be found. I think that’s the crux of the argument, and always will be. Do we all float like strangers until someone plucks us from the water and Marks us as their own? Alone until proven loved?

But who can do the choosing if we’re all just sitting ducks? There must be some outside of the pool, the brave ones Who waded out before waiting became routine. The ones you want to love you. But are they the same as the ones you want to love?

The ones worth keeping are the ones hidden out of sight. The people from broken families, with broken hearts, Broken smiles, broken trust, broken love. Unbreakably perfect but breaking in every way. The sickening thing is that it takes being plucked out by a manipulative bitch To fully appreciate the tragic beauty of a broken heart.

I don’t know if I want you yet. I don’t know if I’m ready to move on from this. Having been safe and dry so long I find I’ve forgotten how To swim. Staying afloat where I once was content treading water Has become the hardest part of living. Can two pairs of drowning hands somehow keep each other afloat?

Chase you. Feel you. Breathe you. Love you. Save you? Save us all from the suffocating oceans, Because nobody deserves to drown For things they never asked to do.

23/01/2012

#poetry #underwater

Waipapakauri

This is the way the world reverses. -And yet I deign to let you be and depart In numbness. In madness?-

Tantalising it falters On the edge of destruction, Panting, gasping

And it calls to me, "Come and try it… Come and see what I can do.”

Resistance would break me, But admittance would destroy me. Which would keep you here?

I choke.

I gasp with all the finesse You left me, A vow to return

To stop whatever happens from happening Before it happens. Will it destroy you?

- I may even have captured a chance If my complexion weren’t Grim enough already -

"The dam is bust through mama! Mama! I have not the vitam tenax To stop the flood!”

Stop the flood… Stop the flood, daddy Please! stop the flood!

-Et dans le tumulte Il pleuvait avec Des larmes d’élancement-

I drown. But I do it gracefully, I do it easily.

There is no thought But those by which I died before. And there is no pain.

The pain has overtaken me, And the light Has ceased to flush the peninsula.

No terrible beauty To cope with Now.

So to rest we sink- The sole respite to keep me sensible- You and I.

And I miss you. I crave you. O my darling, how I love you so.

This is the way the world reverses. And these are the days We only breathe for those whose breaths would die without.

19/02/2011

#poetry #waipapakauri

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