unslaked
I am seared with a longing so burnt in
So hardwired
I’m afraid one day I’ll suck the whole world down
And when that’s not enough
I’ll scream tears until all of life drowns
Then I’ll come roaring through the four corners sat astride a grief to finish what’s left.
This thirst is desert: I’ll drink the galaxy dry.
The next one too.
This is me the whirling screaming ravenous one
Built on tears and thighs and noremorse
That echoes through the whole of time.
The one who has to be in bed (and ideally asleep) by 11 o’clock each night.
love rules
It’s right there on the uneven line in the cobbly upcurve of that Beatrix Potter roof
And there again in the dizzy cherry blossom stuck ridiculous all over that tree
The one that will start blizzarding anymoment candyfloss pink
And it’s there in the roundy shapes of the bright white clouds bobbing all over the sky
I’m seeing it everywhere today:
The promise of a time when everything
Makes sense
And love rules
And what matters
Are the simple things
Like family
And milking the goat.
longing
Last week I got hold of the longing for what is missing
I swear to God I saw it all the way around and laughed.
I bundled it used bubble wrap and put it in a box.
And sent it to myself
Special delivery.
Next day when the postman knocked
I had on lipstick
And smiling took the package, signed his screen
And nodded with a secret Oh I will when he told me to Enjoy.
I closed the door and stood a moment.
Breathing.
So this would be the day.
And this is what that day looked like:
Yellow, buttery. Midmorning.
If there’d been a clock it might have struck.
Eleven probably.
I broke the box
I burst the bubbles
I tore it open
And there inside
Found nothing.
At all.
I’m still trying to make sense of what happened.
On top of that
The postage cost a fortune.
true story
Apparently everything you write down in a poem comes true
Especially – they say – if the poem doesn’t rhyme
Which is why I’m writing
In particular order none
Porsche, midnight blue (cream leather interior).
You.
Words. In wild new arrangement allowing new worlds, all worlds, possibilities, things, no things.
Flying things.
And ecstasy.
Of the endless, clifftop dancing naked kiss-the-earth variety
For all of us.
Quick sticks.
Oh and some music to go along with that.
the heart asks
The heart asked again today
If I could allow her sadness.
I didn’t say anything.
Just hurried around
Making plans
Planting sweet peas
Writing down words like:
‘Today I planted sweet peas
As lately there’s been a lack’.
The next time she asked
I said of course
And went up the road for cake
All the time wondering whose house
I might go round to later for a gin and tonic
Preferably I was thinking
Someone who’s ok with smoking
Later when the heart reached with her little fingers
For my hand
I was busy trying to download a TV show
Is there any way
She asked again
I could allow it ?
I didn’t know and I don’t know
And I still don’t know
But what I do know
Is right now
That little hand
Just resting there
In mine
It feels
Ok.
you are it
You. Are. It.
Look down
At each of your darling little toes
And know what every one of them already knows:
That You in all your razzle dazzle stardust
You in all your fear
You in all your great small greatness:
You. Are. It.