On the Mend

She was hoping

He would mend

Her broken wing

But all he did

Was break the other one

Cold Case

Her love vanished in a single moment

Plucked out like a file in an archived box

In a dank, dark basement

And left unreturned and forgotten

Forever

And with it

Her home

Mystery Clarity

Suspended

Life inhaled

Anticipation

Plans curtailed

Poised

Tomorrow unveiled

Revelations

In tiny fractions

To keep the mystery

Perpetuated

Synchronicity

Overstated

Signals

Mistranslated

Hallucinations

In pixilations

To keep the clarity

Perpetuated

Home

He weathers her storms

Sandbags her flooding levies

Removes her debris

Assesses the damage

And salvages remains

Full Mood

The joy of melancholy

Recedes like a tide

And the weight of happiness basks in shallow pools

Its colour and purpose exposed 

To a spectator sun

Justified

Smug

And revelling in a will well lubricated

Un-taut

Unlike I

Thick and slow with obstinance 

Stuck

Like a shipwreck

Too damaged to sail

Or even float

When the tide returns

War in Colour

She's collecting colours

To chase the blues away

Chaos Perplexus

She takes the wheel

And veers off the road

Avoiding straights and narrows

Finding long and windy routes

Slowing down then

Speeding up

Crashing and burning

She surrenders

Fenders dented

Destroyed intended

She takes the wheel

And the road veers left

Left stranded

In a dusk-lit field 

Stranded

Empty handed

Body slowing down

Thoughts speeding up

Crashing and burning

She surrenders

Wim Wenders

Destroyed unintended

She takes the wheel

Mesmereyes

Your eyes

Are a patch

Of Van Gough skies

Forced Entry

You picked my lock

You never had the key

I am ajar

Forced entry

No key required

Not even 

The right one

The Pity Pit

Hold on

I'm not quite done

Fist and jaw 

Take a double shot of clench

Yeah why not?

Hold the ice

Then we'll set off

I'm tired of quiet 

Cheers to tears big fears!

A quick swig and a dig

I'm-a-burying this pit

And you with it!

The Longest Now

Don't ask her

To muster

More than breath

For air is all she now requires 

Not love, nor laughter, nor pleasure

Of the body or the mind

But to exist

Only to exist

The Torture of Time

I remember

Course words well lubricated

Clumsily fired well aimed

Undeserved well received

I remember

Truths tossed cloaked in humour

Caught and treasured nonetheless 

Lips parting impending declarations,

caught by the ankles

Eyes have nowhere to hide

I remember

The unsaid

Pauses long and thick with desire

The honey air

Your hair

And now, I barter days for surrender

But time is a sadist and love is his muse

Battles

She peels away the tea-stained print

That shields her eyes from the scary outside

There may be a place for her yet

But she needs to dress accordingly

First she insulates her heart with wads of wool

And pads her ears

A hat and shades ensure identity fades

Now she is ready

For the quiet battle

And no one will flinch

When her canons are fired

Stains

In the black heat

Ice cubes crack and tumble from a tray

Skimming across the floor

Hiding beneath the refrigerator 

No attempt to retrieve

Forgotten 

A tepid puddle

Waiting in the dark

Quenching cockroaches 

Observing your daily routine

Quivering to an intermittent drone

Life is brief

But the stain

Remains

Crazy

So yeah

Maybe I am crazy

There's a place for misfits like me

It's everywhere you're not

And no place in particular

Where everything is nameless

And nothing is counted

Not the hours

Nor the coins

And no one is welcome

Except the wind

My Everest

So here we are

Again

In that place

Where familiar questions

Are left unanswered

And every notch and foothold

Carved into my vertiginous wall

Brings you no closer

To any ledge of reprieve

And what dilemma do you now face?

My dear, pathetic and lost

Do you keep climbing?

Or do you let go?

Perhaps we can do both