Sunday, 19 January 2014

In the Ocean

Sometimes, life seems 
like a dredger: 

we are pulled along 
by unseen forces, 
bickering amongst ourselves 
as we squabble and fight, and 
all the while the boat 
still chugs along. 

We are the fish at the top of the net, 
struggling for breath 
and daylight. 

Below us are those who do not stand a chance 
but still fight on. And below them 
are long dead and 
suffocated creatures.

And left behind 
in all of this 
is a seabed 
left decimated 
and debauched.

But life does not have to be like this: 
it will only ever be like this 
if we carry on seeing ourselves 
as the fish. 

Some want to be one of those men on the boat;

I just want to be the ocean,

pulling in and out
with the billow and blow of the wind,
the hug and release of the moon,
the gulp and the scallop
of the gulls and the land;

as waves form, and break, to their own tune,
and the world cups us briefly in its old, loving hands.

Wednesday, 15 January 2014


I trace the scar on your
knee, that was made
when you were eight;

when you fell
from the apple tree
in your back garden.

I touch it gently,
the skin pale, and
silky, sensitive still;

I want to eat your scars,
peel them off like communion wafer,
let them melt on my tongue;

chew you up and spit
you out, smooth and clean
like a polished stone.

But you are you:
scarred and whole.
The stars stare down

enviously upon you.
Now crown my firmament:
let me take you home.

Tuesday, 14 January 2014


My heart was an ember
          and you blew on it;
took out your blade
          and carved 'true' on it.

You blew on my fire
          with a faraway wind;
it took for ever to come,
          but time does magic.

Now, as I unwind,
          I wonder, will it stop?
But no: this fire is strong;
          this last act is long: not tragic.
All sonnets must end
          with a rhyming couplet,
but when I look at your form
          I see formless -

So fuck it.

Friday, 10 January 2014

In the Deep

We were out there in the water
swimming in the deep,
seeing things as they were living.

But where were you
whilst we were swimming?
Were you sitting on the beach?
Whilst we were out there,
swimming: swimming
in the deep.

The phosphorescent blooms
of coral were steep,
as the ocean fell away,
down into the deep.

And where were you
whilst we were swimming,
swimming in the deep?

Were you
in the mountains?
Were you tending
to your sheep?

O! but the things we saw
when we were out there,
swimming in the deep!
Things we could not tell -
things we could not keep.

But where were you
whilst we were swimming?
Were you sitting
on the beach?

Monday, 6 January 2014

Lyrical (untitled)

You consume art
Like a man consuming chicken hearts,

But what's left in your heart
In that afterdark,
When the taste has melted away?

Sensation goes the way
of sensation:
It greys,
Leaving you craving something

Far richer,
A treat for yer
To cloak your hurt.

You been craving.

That material