Parting ways

Just for a while though.

It’s difficult now that me and my girlfriend are living apart.

It’s easy when we can snatch a meeting for a day or two and feel whole again.

It’s hard when we have to part and she's reduced to tears saying “it’s not fair, it’s not fair”. Because it’s not fair, and it’s worth crying over. But even though I offer warmth and a positive outlook I haven’t much else to say.

It’s not fair, and this world is a horrible and unjust place.

I hope you're satisfied.

Halfway To A Full Heart

HALFWAY TO A FULL HEART

Mine and mind again
Flinching with a strange passion for obscurity
This coiled fence I pronounce comfort is rusty and warped
Let it not continue

A false tax is levied against these settled years
A sour fruit of intrepid self-discovery
I agree, it is not a just cause
Only waste

At present the fire is down to mere embers
Hope of summer may prove naïve at best
I perch by the ducts and vents
Give to the poor, less my cold cadaver

I am a penniless bursar corrected with green ink
Winding my fingers in cotton for humour
I am no dreamer, just delusional and starved
A doubting mind in staggering sunsets

Halfway to a full heart
Though still the drips collect as a gaggle
I make circles with this voice and reason
A drought is upon me and I cannot sustain myself

I find your hand is warm
Although the thickets and chimneys crisp over with frost
A virtue in this place is your red lips and furnace
A furnace of spirit

Watch, the patterns are all around your fearless mingling
The pedestrians are fishing nets to catch
The clouds a flurry of tiles to keep out the vengeful bolt
A gust of wind suggests a locomotive, passing

In this deep place we have found ourselves
Narrow and the ancient steps are slippery with dashed hopes
Is it too late for our fortune?
Can we climb to the air?

Together and passing over the divides
The terrible crushing of engines and eyes
Creaking coals to bridge counties and tongues
Be with me and soak up my forgotten spring

Wash this confused man and reveal a face
A lost bird who heads north
You know me well and guide me
The turbulent air, our turbulent beginnings

I am always a faint secondary character
This is not a performance for applause
Without you I remain, as such, only scenery
You hold my head and keep away devils

You have rescued me from a void
This current I feel
This racing wave within
You have propped the banks and opened the gates

I ignore deep waters
I rush to you in truth
I am only yours
I am at peace with you, my love

The Modern Way Out Of Town

THE MODERN WAY OUT OF TOWN

This recons with an argument
Discloses a watchful eye
Be a shadow of your former self or improve
Dye the grass blue to confuse the fox

A stairway for the souls of disturbed ages
Fritter away your payments and passports
Trap yourself in concrete
Debauchery for the kindly bricklayer

A vessel for mortar
A cup for timber
A weary cart for love
The tires are pushing into the mud

Fortune, he craves!!
Watchers from the shards of population
Confused rioters shopping with mirth
They do not know of the chaos

Only charm
We alight to the hills and look at weed
We pick the sun with sticks
Dreary books
Feeding bulls

Whiskey brawls enchant
A new dawn for celebration
No new following
Just empty wallets, fearing the bleached white in your eye

I see, a bold statement!!
Cry at the city below and its lust for life
Primary colour kisses
Winks and pouts

Bickering keepers and the man who is silent
The strange occupation of turning
Turn away and look
Sleep with the rain and wash with the bird

Your food is there
Give me licence to disclose and lie
On your head be it
Lie in wait, I advise

Take the shortcut and nod at doorways
Your father is the earth, spilling seed for a simpler life
Raising you and raising a dagger
He will envelope you and destroy you

Eaten From The Inside

EATEN FROM THE INSIDE

The value and weight
Obstacle and temperament
Bleeding hearts and ravenous sentiment
I know the battlements are raw

A summary of pursuit
I see happiness and dispute
Lay the boundary and walk the path to honest rebellion
Faint praise, no less

But ponder graciously
The history is murderous and a banquet
Inquire at the longevity and breadth of wit
Do not shake a fist at failure

Redemption is my matter at hand
I am accustomed to terror and violence in speech
The plot thickens but oil laps at the shores
Given a good reason a hand will turn to fist

The inklings of success and a misguided youth
You see it now?
My wide eyes and serious walk
Casting glass on pits and fissures

I like the air of calm
A storm can only be seen behind
Is this motion pulling at me?
Am I graceful enough to travel?

The latter years of softness but confusion always
Needs must, though
Forgive my arrogance
Hold a flag for the oncoming hero, he only feels the rain

Books and papers, signs and symbols
Dreams, I believe
Smash away at rocks and numbers
Toil in the caves and upon the steeple

Shine and matte the walls
I shall escape no more
A doldrums has captured me
Chains of lead and ink hold with awkwardness

The network of spiders and worms scurry in my ear
I hear the trickle of lies
A shiver is cutting at the calm
A desire is a heavy sack to lurch with

The roads are not swept with brushes
See the indecision, see the sadness
The wrong road leads to devils
A dead end might lie in your wake

The wails crash on rooftops and scares the crow
Wind is due east
Crowds and polished morality
A shuffle of bone and the click of false suits

I am invisible to the laughter and the pain
Beauty is not a doorway I lean on
Clawing inside a coffin runny with poison and destitution
Say nothing to me, no words

I am a skin of dust and cut off
The bubble shrinks and the cold eases in
Callous destroyer, please end it
End the gasp and the biting tooth

A fondness for a northern track
Lumbering over rail and tram
The change is sweet and must follow a bitterness
Keep me entertained, devils

But you will not let me go
You splinter and lay waste my escape
I will cast you off, but I fear the hour is late
Betrayed!!

The Saddle & The Grave

THE SADDLE & THE GRAVE

The wasted time and grotty inards
I hear nothing but the wails and moans of my arteries
They will not heal
I wish them less

Carry on, they cry, but I warn of rocks and deep falls
Wonders are not to be found, so retire
They are not willing
My ailments crack at medicine and my smile is so short

The heavens are a sturdy breed
Cloud is strong against them
I know the blisters are aching and my skin pale
Our eyes locked in a tearful battle

Ready yourself for suffering
The winter is here
Do not move close to the edge as slips carry us to other lands
Those that are timeless but without destiny

Trials are so brief
Do you know where the water carries?
The splashing is distant and the horizon flat
My ailments call for mercy, they are fiends

The vulture lands on my perch
The canteen is dry and brittle
A beak is under my coat and nuzzles the meat
Or what is left

Will the water carry us?
The lame sink and leave us to our devils
How lonesome we feel with grass
The valley wall and fingers of laughter crush us

An umbarella of steam ignites the charms and graces
Spirits are up and so is our vision
No, nothing, please
Forget my name, just rest in the cradle and push us onwards

The river runs away now, too far off-course
A leaked vessel makes a mockery
Fools look the part
Scorn is the key feeling

A crag or two to hop over, maybe a saddle
Tidings come from the animals
Barks and squeals and chirps
A noise of banter and bleating

Can you hear it?
Something is amiss in this land
Vultures are fat and pigs are starved
The cup is upturned and our broth spills into the hand

Burns follow us where we go
Indeed a sneaky toad
They know more than the thicket and sneer
Good fortune may limit us

Push, push
An end as the last sits to ponder his grave
Leave a light on for the next man, but don’t waste fuel
We sleep, we dream, we drift

This house is a circus

Drama drama drama everywhere. Perhaps not in this house but elsewhere in my sphere of communication. People are an odd sort and prone to great queerness and peculiarities. Truly we need floppy shoes and squirting flowers to complete the picture of greasy make-up and dyed green hair.

Send in the clowns.

I am not fond of these ups and downs and turns in all directions. This head of mine is a dizzy little carnival. Slow down, slow down.

My dad is finding out harsh truths about his ex-girlfriend and her many, many men that were conceled until they began to slip out of the paintwork. He has been taken for a ride, the poor fool, but he has seen the light methinks. I hope he will not get deeper into depression and angst, he deserves more than a pointless feud with the crazed and schizophrenic.

Free us from your grasp, devils!!! We are mere mortals and have no time for such games. Our lives are short, let us savour, not suffer.

Money doesn't grow on trees

I am near repossession and bankrupcy and next week is my girlfriend's birthday. I want to take her around the world on holiday and shower her with flowers and gifts but I can't afford even to feed myself at the moment. There's not much more I can say and I hope she understands what is going on.

There's not much food in the house to snack on as the Tesco van cancelled on mum due to the snow. Although she doesn't usually buy in much anyway and starves herself so she can go on holiday four times a year. Each to his/her own.

I'm stressed, bored, hungry and dry.