That sixteen-year-old words scratched there in my diary could bring the two of us here seems almost supernatural
A spring-evening walk, so like us the us we were as teens when you were my first and still my only kiss as we walked the peaceful parks of home
Now, so many years stretch across a wide valley of unshared experience they squeal and dance between us slowly and methodically we close the gap spinning our silken bridge of words
I pull the feathers from your lungs they’re knotted and tarred dripping with the bitterness of isolation they’re catching in your throat
Your silences and the space between those words they say much more they say it all…
Your sorrow is a blanket of leaves your sorrow is blossom that falls and covers this park…
Highbury Fields disappears beneath the tears I know you cry in your silent room from your hiding place
Recently, I read again of all you gave me when the two of us were lost together so I ask myself ‘what I can do to help lift you from this place’
What can I do for you what can I give to you only my time, only my time to you the healing warmth of resuscitated friendship as we walk the adult evening through this pretty park
And you can say it all you can speak it all out loud…
The plan never changed it was quietly revealed suddenly, this cell was just mine
Can I still grow? can I still change? I don’t want to be my father I don’t want to live alone
Another evening in another night, pushing everyone away All I need is a little space room enough to think a while write some lines a drink or two me; all too myself
But the more I take the more I die of this this poisonous time
And even on the odd occasion I go out and sit with other people there is nothing I can say to make them want me to stay I’ve focused every sense within this cell is me
There should be jokes, there should be smiles here! I used to be so good at this There should be humour, there should be such love! I used to be so good at this
But the more I take the more I die of this this poisonous time
Tom is dead. His party’s over. Stark and sarcastic he’s just a memory, now…
So numb, I watch me crack again in horrific black and white projection about to jump, in someone else’s bed so restlessly, I turn away can’t face up to my adultery the tempted, cheating, loveless; me
So dutifully, I cover my eyes again headphones on, I watch me walking blinded, soulless, vacuum filled so magnified, I still look small swallowing my pride, all passion dies the pointless, aching, hollow; me
Devoid of colour, of life or joy the putrid skin just falls away a mess that stains the carpet One last thing to write about a death so rough and meaningless the broken, elemental, rotting; me
(And at the sight of all of this the spectator me can only laugh and from my passive lips, a joke a joke…)
They burn on in the night dripping candles of my fat for what I couldn’t give in life comes from functionality in death So openly, I tear out my beating heart the sinning, lost and wasted; me
So obviously, I watch me try to stand pushing the lens in deep between my eyes the blue flushed out and burnt away So covertly, I’m zooming in I can’t get enough of seeing this the forsaken, faithless, empty; me
So naturally, it came to me at first time took my hands so tightly pushed me into the holes again stripped my words down to the bone so pathetically, I put up a meek fight the tortured, pained, artistic; me
A joke stark and sarcastic me A joke stark and sarcastic me
[2003]
Thanks for reading this very old poem.
Note: I’m going to post some older poems which I’ve never shared before over the next week or so. They’re all quite early in my writing and are flawed in all sorts of ways (aren’t we all) but I thought they might be of interest to people to see where I started. T.A. 18th June 2021.
In the shining eyes of the girl below me lit by the dim glow of a Paris night I see the distance growing that I’ve been running from for so long
And there, I gasped lay by her side, and said “What have I become? Do I mean anything to you?”
Inhaling on a cigarette she looked at me, sideways and said “You have lost so much most of which you gave away drunkenly, or deliberately Trying to be something else but to yourself you’ll always stay a stranger in this wasteland”
And that’s me a stranger in this wasteland Yes, that’s me…
[2004]
Thanks for reading this old poem.
Note: I’m going to post some older poems which I’ve never shared before over the next week or so. They’re all quite early in my writing and are flawed in all sorts of ways (aren’t we all) but I thought they might be of interest to people to see where I started. T.A. 18th June 2021.
So quickly, it’s night again the days are short in times such as these The sun only stays so long only lays its light down for so long then it goes again we’re plunged into night
O, could you not find a torch or a candle or a lantern to bring some light in here We can’t see any hope swimming in this darkness
So soon, it’s night again we’re on the same street corner I’m selling your body again I’m selling my brain it gets so dark round here I almost forget about the light there is some light, sometimes but right now it’s night…
I have ruined what I’ve loved I’ve been ruined by my loves and now all that remains is tainted and unlovable I am tainted and unlovable It’s time for a change…
Cold eyes look out upon a frozen town icy streets tripping over themselves to keep us indoors but the boundaries of this house are closing in and the sound of other voices is so appealing If only I could hear them now if only I could fill this space with people
I have ruined all I’ve loved I’ve been ruined too, in my loving and now all that I want differs so greatly from what it is I really need What I really need is saving from myself and these ruinous ways it’s time for change…
Old eyes could look out in years to come across a town so unexplored and inexperienced they might peer through that same pretty glass wishing they’d seen more things first-hand If only I could see it now if only I could fill passed time with places
I have ruined all I’ve loved I’ve been ruined through my love broken hearts at least force new growth staid hearts grow their roots too deep moss clawing all over them, all over me it’s time for a change…
This town still calls to me through our dusty windows and I look, so longingly it still offers out its hand from time to time and smiles ‘Don’t let this opportunity pass you by it comes just once in a lifetime… you have… but one lifetime…’
But I have ruined what I love been ruined by my lover now, there’s just ash where the fires used to burn Now, there’s just dust where our skin used to prickle now, there are just silences where our words once dripped in love
And every day the outside world swells in its appeal and every day the outside world multiplies its pull on me Each morning, I wake one step closer to making that leap If only I could fill passed time with faces if only I could find the door…
O Lord, I ain’t what I aimed to be I think I missed the target some my seed got turned upside down tried to grow towards the light and grew down…
O Lord, are you listening to me? ‘cause I’ve never heard your voice in here no conductor’s baton, no steady hand as I stumbled through this night and grew dark…
O Lord, I’m miles from where I meant to be the Devil, he has no compass, no stars to follow says ‘hack away, till you reach the easy warmth’ but I hacked so many people, I keep slipping in their blood and fall down…
O Lord, I haven’t used my eyes for years don’t see anything when you only live to feel I get whatever stimulus I can take I’ll take whatever’s not bolted down and go blind…
O Lord, I’m chased by that same snake again always offering me that same apple all I ever wanted was to live in the light Yet something always eclipsed that need now it feels too late to change and I’ll always hang here in this bleak greed and pitch night…
Would you forgive me, Lord let me admit to all this blackness and move on could you forgive me, Lord if I promise you I’ll change and for the better
O Lord, all I ever wanted was just to live in the light but look at me now, deep in the dark do you see me here, lost in this dark…
Sometimes, we sing the wail song Sometimes, it never seems to end Get well soon and mend all things Some times never wants to end
I was kneeling in the garden, shuffling the leaves trying to keep nature in boxes Wind blows and wind knows I can never win my shoulders sink, I know I can never win
Sometimes, we sing the wail song Sometimes, there is nothing we can do tuck your head below the sheets and wait Sometimes, there is no sign at all
Sometimes, we sing the wail song Sometimes, we can’t avoid it Just push your hopes into a poem sometimes, it seems, there is no one who will listen
The waves rise over the railings, soaking me the shock, the cold of the sea’s like magic in that blast of reality, I achieve some clarity I’m not afloat, I’m driving this life’s direction
Sometimes, we sing the wail song sometimes, we get so blinded reach out and find a sure hand, it will come sometimes, we have to make more effort
It just takes time… you have to try take some time, do what you have to shed the song right off your body it just takes time, you have to try…
Leaves of brown and green watching as the fire reveals a destiny for us flames licking their lips at the change of solid and tangible into smoke On a beach of melancholy teenagers destroying themselves for something that they can’t explain or focus on the big picture that is still being drawn…
Bottles of green and brown offering their joyous and deceptive contents up ready to infiltrate our consciousness convince us that the weight has lifted a sea of liquid to baptise our brains then we dance and talk of this rebirth forgetting all about thoughts of maths or progress the new beginning we’ve been dreaming of…
Leaves of brown are falling in the sunrise but day reveals that gravity has won again our heavy heads are hard to lift now and the breaking waves outside sing loud A song of measured secrets that expose themselves a beautiful harmony of movement the moon under which we slept last night brings them to us with it’s strong will
Bottles of green bloom in the sand empty shells left behind from the war we fought the best we could all night and momentarily there was a surrender a decoy that we fell for too easily now, in the morning light, it’s obvious the horizon arcs itself out before us a new beginning comes every day a new beginning is ours every day…
The room turns cold on my entry chilled by the endless winter in my heart which came one day when I was younger and never began to thaw Now the icicles of loneliness reach they hang above this crooked form this bent back scribbling at its desk Well I’ve tried to fake some warmth I’ve stood outside and screamed at the sky but this emotionless, empty heart will never melt, or heal, or bloom again
Now all of the love I’ve acted out just inverts into hate and boomerangs and I can’t stand or leave this chair I refill my pen and pour more wine reclining under the weight of sadness that I could never be blessed with love, or loyalty, or warmth all I do is write about my missing pieces unsure if, or when, I’ll ever find them maybe I am not deserving of saviour but I’m still vain enough to hope…
The Lighthouse 