MY FIVE POEMS

ALREADY FALLEN

His skin wore black as I wore pale

The easy breathing to exhale.

My arms grew tight the feeling numb

To brief district fantasies overrun

with fear and grief and pain and truth.

A laugh so sweet wrapped in uncouth

mysteries of the blood, terror of the free

I never knew you, like you've always known me.

The rhythm of the rocking became disjointed

as what once was pure became anointed

with death and disease and all the happiness in it

and I alone descend, laughing and will commit

my skin. Clawed back as I wear weary.

Enveloped in breath, in your own mind's theory

My body trapped in an anesthetized bliss

I cannot forgive, you promised me this.

HOLD YOURSELF

To reach,

relaxed, into the sky

To hold a burden with the stars.

The dust encased in the breast of the universe

That was once us

is us.

That dust molded our stature, demeanor.

That dust painted memories, friends.

That dust is us.

That dust is me.

So to reach,

relaxed, into the sky

is reaching into ourselves

and learning that we, the universe,

are the blood and the body

and the sky.

(To be read aloud at a Poetry Slam)

BREATHE, SIT AND STARE...

Shit. It's blank.

White and horizontal, mocking cuts of lines

and more white.

White, line, white line, write, line, right, line I've got you now.

I've written:

my name.

Ink sinking in and shimmering back on freshly christened sheets.

The art of making love with the written word.

You begin.

You find a rhyme

and that's fine

You find a rhyme

just in time

You find a rhyme

lemon and lime, forever mine, cheese and wine, Greenwich mean time, ehfdiwmscklupine

How do people do this for a living?
Dylan Thomas. Yeats. John Donne.

Doctor Suess. Eminem. Billy Shakes.

Oh, they all found it so easy.

They found a secret. They preached and taught

and I, in my three years of Higher Education forgot

to actively write.

Why am I doing this?

How am I doing this?

You look back and fail to recognise the scribbled panic of your rambling thoughts and oh-!
God. Divine, unholy, true and trinity.

Entwined in masking young girl's virginity.
Everyone and their uncle Margaret writes about God. I'll give it a go-
No. Because I don't care. I don't have an outstanding opinion on anything

deity related or not.

I forgot.

I've been sitting on the fence for so long I'm fused to it.

Watching the successful Figures Of Words dance merrily into the distant sunset.

WHAT I SHOULD HAVE

Never assume there's a next time.

Fleeting moments shorten and fade

You look back, mind's eye cloudy

Recalling memories that you made.

Together a smile in a photograph,

becomes one to reminisce.

Not ready to 'let go' yet

So simply promise me this.

Never assume there's a next time

You'll end up with a touch of regret

Though forgiving whispers linger

It's something you'll never forget.

Together the smile in a photograph

is framed and proudly shown.

The memory constant and longing

the fondness has nothing but grown.

I've learned things happen for a reason

Though the reason still escapes me

So never assume there's a next time,

because next time might never be.

ARGUE WITH YOU

To begin with,

You're standing there

holding air

in your mouth for what seems like

an age because you're afraid to say it.

“I-”

“I know.”

She interrupts. You jerk palm into her pale

facade in a righteous attempt to silence

but she endures. Her breath tickles the

life crack lines of your hand and shudder

judder down spines make you audibly huff.

This annoys her.

To begin with,

She's screaming there

cutting the air

with gestures so flamboyant you reach out to

cease the flailing retardation of her limbs

and regurgitation of insults hurled right into

your chest and brain as they fester and grow

and you begin to think she's in the right.

This annoys you.

To begin with,

She's crying there

through her hair

and hands and damp precipitation of emotion

spewing from her face because you told her the truth

and for the first time in forever her ears guiltily

pricked and she listened. Although this is just an

imaginary image you pray to any force stronger than

yourself and her to achieve. But you will never get

on, agree or achieve anything. At all. Ever.

This annoys us.