Monthly Archives: August 2012

Thank you for your efforts

I know
you are trying to
change me.

I know the crafty
little mind games
you’re playing.

Applauding what
you like and ignoring
what you don’t.

Well, stop trying.

I am this.

The sum total
of much bad
and a little good.

A fire that refuses
to stop raging.

A heart that refuses
to be owned.

A voice that refuses
to be silenced.

I am a mess but
a beautiful mess.

Try changing
that and
you’ll have an
ugly mess.

I know you mean well.
I know you care.



Consider this a warning

Few people manage to
piss me off the way
you can.

You can because
I’ve allowed
you to.

I’ve allowed
what you say
or not say
matter to me.

It is all my fault,

I’m not a
punching bag
bag for your stress

I’m not a whipping
horse for the races
you lose.

I know how I am.

I will stop loving you
little by little
until you won’t
matter to me

hardening that little
soft corner
I have for you

I do love well.
I do hate even better.


A world gone crazy

This heroine trip called television.
This daily fix of civilisation.

Millions of glazed eyed
adults tripping on
industrial strength
emotions intejected

Mechanical hearts
controlled by the reducing
valve of the nine to five.
living and loving
vicariously through the
flickering images
on the tube.

Tripping on sunsets in lands
they won’t visit,
Women they won’t fuck,
Friends they won’t have,
Loves they won’t experience,
Live they will never live.

Your reality in the end
is what you
want it to be.

Another riveting episode
of cookery battles is
about to begin.

A quick dash to the loo.
To the fridge.
To the phone.

And then again Buddha bliss.

Outside hydrogen
and oxygen molecules
merge to make miracles
called rain drops that go

I’m with Stupid

We rove the
surface of Mars
looking for signs of life
as we throttle
Mother Earth
slowly to an early death.

We strip her for her riches
We hack down her forests
We kill off her children
We choke up her oceans

We are probably
the dumbest thing
in the universe
right now.

What’s left

Too long the fast was,

Famished and voracious
we feasted
on its break.

gorging on
polishing off
the boughs of
sweet fruits of our spring
after an endless winter
of hesitation.

I took in everything
the lights, the sounds,
the smells, the touches,
the tickles, the laughter,
of that day and bound them into
a tight ball with
the glue of memory
to clutch in my
hand forever.

Time had other plans.
All details
of that afternoon
ran out through my fingers
over the meandering years
like so much sand
until all I clutched was an
eyelash of your eyes
bright with happiness.

The only thing left to do
was to open my palm,
close my eyes,
make a wish,
and blow on it.

Autumn is here.
The season of forgetting.


We could have
so easily lied
to each other and
lived together happily
ever after.

We are both such
excellent liars

But we couldn’t
tell a single lie
when it mattered
the most.

Couldn’t say the words.
Couldn’t make the promise.
Couldn’t look each other in the eye.

You don’t lie to
a fellow liar.
Call it professional
Call it honour among
Call it a mercy killing
of hope.
Call it caring too much.

We know we both are
easy to love and
difficult to live with.

Yes was the correct answer
No was the right answer.

And love makes the wrong people
do the right thing.

There is a market

What saves you in
the end is your conscience.

That’s the only thing
there is still a market for
in this bloody recession.

They still pay in good
dollars for you look
the other way,
lose your spine,
lose your tongue.

Every time you are a
little hard up you can
sell out a little
and its all good again.

You can fine dine
sip wine,
feel like bit of  a swine.
But it’s all good.