what you’ve got

what have you got?
How do you define the getting?
who will you be accountable to,
when it’s all over
and you spent more than half your time
like this?
repentance comes in many forms.
I make my amends
by laughing
each smile you see
making up for a moment wasted.
how much time
do you really think you have?
I fear for you
too much can go wrong
when you’re not looking.

August ‘09

stories

When every broken love story
reminds me of you,
every heavy silence
between hero
and old flame,
every strong drink,
wistful look
The delicate guitar begins,
the goodbye theme
(we were never the kind
who needed violins)
you come to mind.

When you fill my head
I stand outside,
watch the leaves turn slowly
in the water.

My moments with you
stand frozen in time,
our pain lives in sad songs
and old films

immortalised
alongside every broken heart.

we’ll never feel alone.

July ‘09

time

this night
so cold
I feel I’ll never get warm.

follow the lights
to the song
follow the song
to the fire
follow the fire
to the warmth

how many times
will we make this trek?
before our feet wear away

isn’t it time
for you to let go?

July ‘09

we both know

we both know
this is something we cannot voice
we both know
this is something we cannot feel
life takes us this way,
despite our protestations
and we watch each other
come spinning closer
then spiral away.

I watch you and know
I cannot feel the angst
of impossibility
simply because
it is so impossible.
I guard my smile
only ever-so-slightly.
Our friendship works so well.

we both know
how it is, and how it isn’t.
we both know
what not to say.
we both know
this is something we cannot feel
but we do
anyway.

July ‘09

boychild

boychild
naked in my arms,
a paradox
a contradiction
of all that we’ve been told.
and before tomorrow
we’ll break the rules again.

and you
boychild
son of all the things
I’ve run away from,
there is sanctity in your difference;
in our gradual shifting,
acclimatisation.
our hearts out-of-sync create
a rhythm;
You are the beat
my heart echoes.

I learn.

November ‘08

this

a hand on skin
your fingers, freckled
believing this is all there is
and all there needs to be.
strong, straight nail against
here my paleness
here your darkness
believing, knowing
this is all there needs to be
this is all there needs to be
there underneath your wrist,
(connection, life)
my arm
a hair
catches the light;

one jewel
believing, knowing
this is all there is
this is all there needs to be.

October ‘08

finally

finally,
reminder of the past
is not a threat to the future
and allows
the present
peace.

October ‘08

reproach

dishes pile
i’m kind of waiting
for reproach

hoping that somehow
if I’m naughty enough
you’ll return to scold

and tuck me into bed,
hair swinging
and maybe

you’ll let me read
you a bedtime story
you are a story

i feel like you are my own,
though I never wished to own nobody
and become concerned

for what
this is teaching
my heart.

September ‘08

smell like summer

bedridden
one’s view
is upwards

i see
the sky,
midwinter blue,
the trees

some bare
(the gums
still green)

against the shining blue
a bird improvises,
i applaud.

from within heat
of sickness
i think -

that if I opened my window
it could almost
smell like summer.

July ‘08

Loss

the hurt of losing
never dulls,
even when it’s been so long that you almost thought
you’d never lost.

but on extending a hand
and receiving a slap
you remember.

Not just the loss
but what came before,
the laughter and connection
the companionship
which seemed unbreakable.

recalling the loss
never hurts so much
as recalling what was lost.

June 2008