We were strangers by the pool there was summer on your skin I lay low, opened my whole body in the hope that you would find me
Then taking it the distance from the shore raised to the sky there were many sailors scheming on the bending of your knee
There’s a bridge in your dreams as it recedes behind a fog you wonder what it means…
Even naked, your body was a silken gown as you scurried across the room I brought you this glass paper an outcrop of shattered slate
Upon your hip some childhood scar the very first place I aim my dirty lips the innocence in your womanly eyes meets my age but not my weariness
There’s a bridge in your dreams and you wonder what it means…
I taught you all the things I knew about the moves I needed from you you later said my expertise was nothing but a trick with a flick of the wrist I’d left another scar on you
And, waking, we melted one final time before I drew from the bed you briefly begged me to stay then turned around and slept
And I know when I go you’ll find a honest barer of the tenderness you’re owed the goodness, the reality
I wonder what I brought you and I wonder what I took you were the silk that moved beneath me you were the sweetest laughter
For now, I dare not tell you as I cross that bridge vanish into the thickening fog slip from your life
Shooting through the greenery I lovingly eye our reflections as they flicker in the glass of a Bruges-bound train Your fingers knit silently into mine warm in your woozy dreaming
On a dirt track headed for Hanoi behind me on the motor bike cutting through a tall tapestry of trees my heartbeat lost beneath the engine Twisting the throttle so instinctively as you steal a kiss over my shoulder
Diving in the turquoise waters St Paul’s Bay, watched by a wedding parade we swim off the forty-degree heat fish darting between our toes You push your wet hair behind your ear as my fingers trace your calves
Spilling from a Kreuzberg club The 6am sky a perfect throbbing blue our eyes so wide and wondrous we kick through the empty streets back to our cheap hotel room so alive and talkative
All those moments fog my mind as we sit sofa-bound for the hundredth night in a row not going out tonight Another weekend slips away ‘It’s too cold, we’re too old for all of that now’
All those times we cracked up so busy living and thoroughly loving When kisses were endless and our hearts always leaping from one adventure to the next not sitting still, not nearly dead
It’s not too cold, we’re not too old for of all that, you know I promise you, my love for you it’s still young We’re still young…
This must be my longest night moon laying its heavy light right down this room swims in all the gossiping conversations; always imagined and impossible
This must be my longest night fading echoes of all we did ring ‘round there’s no sleep to be had, just counting stars and scenes replaying; on the ceiling’s cinema
We found the jagged edge of love it cut right across my heaving chest as its hand slipped back into the mist…
We skirted the boundary of almost love close enough to feel its gravity near enough to have it hurt me; whipped and cowed by its proximity
We found the jagged edge of love it burned poker-hot across my palms as it slipped from reach…
This must be my longest night from the distant black above comes understanding slow and sweaty, but it fills me resolutely finally calmed; released by this epiphany;
I wanted you and, for a moment there, you wanted me too but was it really me at all or just the softly-stroking hand of my words upon your ego
And did I ever want you because of who you were or how you made me feel about myself in love with what I saw when I was the peacock strutting in front of you?
This has been my longest night tired eyes prodded by a heavy moon with its gravities and chattering and the echo of your laughter, before you disappeared when all I could see was the mirror you were to my vanity…
You were drunk on the sea we’d been talking all night I was drunk on the scene and feeling so alive You turned to me your face too close to mine and that kiss… that kiss made so much sense that kiss made so much sense to me then
You were drunk on the sea another shot you’re pouring out for me I’m already drunk on you we’d been on that beach for hours You turned and said ‘I want to fall in love just don’t tell my boyfriend’ and that kiss that kiss made so much sense at the time
“She will never know this happened he can never know this happened” you whispered before it happened a second time And I’m wondering do you mean both times it happened or just the second I almost ask out loud but don’t want to jeopardise the chance of a third time
I am drunk on the sea alright drunk on all you’re telling me and each kiss makes so much sense tonight each kiss makes so much sense as it happens
The next morning I wake and you’re telling me you were sober all night dry all along not even drunk on the sea the waves still crashing in my head O, what have we done…
Tonight, I eye the wind as it dances on the water singing of the distance that no longer can be closed
Well, I told you I was selfish there were no children in me Unwilling to stir for a moment from this endless daydream where I father my creativity
You told me that you knew me our hearts beating to that same drum set and no one must wake you either That carving pretty worlds behind closed eyes is your calling and profession
With one eye knowingly looking into mine and the other doggedly at the door you welcomed my request for kisses deep while telling me you could feel that farewell letter in my back pocket itching to be delivered
You rip away on the mildest breeze a kite cut free Could not believe the words a writer brought you the words you said you loved to read You wished it dead, before the birth and all I did was acquiesce
I tell you now that letter was no dis-missive but a list of tide times The wind thieves it from my fingers and I watch it whipping out across the water
Two selfish hearts can coexist only for a passing moment then the ocean rises the road is lost the causeway closes
All we were is washed away or wind upon the surface ripples or waves, decaying…
If you can find your way back here let’s meet under the old whale bones this place that we each love Where we look out to sea or back towards the sleeping town
One day, we’ll stand together and unbeknownst to us it will be for the last time in our lives
Whichever of us, must go first let’s make a promise to meet again under the old whale bones Hearts filled with feeling and the beauty of the harbour lights reflected on the water
The hem of night is chasing us with its rude goodbye as it claims its prize and lays us down as we close our sleeping eyes
One day, we’ll smile at one another and unbeknownst to us it will be for the last time in our lives
Mum, dad, when you slip into that endless blue or if I am gone before you Let’s find some way back and meet under the old whale bones
We’ll pose for someone’s photos ghosts that chatter or ghosts that silently contemplate the sea under the old whale bones
We’ll stand together and look out across the sand stretching as wide as our smiles…
Folding out your wings and fastening them to the breeze you stand firm upon the window sill Instinctively, you turn from me I feel the coolness of the air and know that soon you’ll be nothing but a poem on some damp page I’ll tuck away my eyes finally wiped dry
What is that holy terror beating at the heart of you? You said you long to bind your essence to the history of the world but I wonder, will you find your truth or some brittle hedonism And what scares you most is thinking that your story may go unheard
In your pursuit of freedom you’ve chained yourself to so many things to pretty bottles, departing trains torn pages, leaky pens smiling faces with haunted eyes or words of seduction so wantonly exchanging flesh for a clever rhyme or two
You sing as if you are a bird but I know you as a kite All these things, they are your string and in your endless daydream you can bare to wield no knife I know I cannot own you your art, it consumes you furiously chasing some distant dream even you can’t see
But jumping from the sill the wind plots you a new course Maybe soon, you’ll find those answers be they peace or understanding perhaps some deeper seam the bond between all things or just to give a label to that holy terror beating forever at the heart of you
Be sure to call me one day in the lonesome future if you feel the hunger has abated and you can bare to finally belong…
You’re filling all my notebooks even though we rarely speak A constant stream of inspiration and wishes for what has been Why must my mind remain connected always wishing for another chance a change of life a new life with you Could we stop this juggernaut pull the handbrake and turn these lives around…
Inertia, it seems, has got it in for me too weak to fight it but for you…could I fight for you and turn these lives around
One day, will you walk out One day, leave him standing there One day, will I walk out leave her standing there And could we live with each other could we live with ourselves if we did that to them
This seeming connectivity would it continue in those new times cut adrift on a sea so fresh filled with hope for change and what newness may come From our off-chance meeting unexpected acceptance You’re filling all my notebooks since the hours talking today of turning these lives around…
In the dimming garden beneath the belt of Venus fingers grip a bottle a nightcap alone
Finally, I belong finally, I belong to someone how I’ve run from this for so long
Now, nothing makes me happier nothing makes me feel more sure of anything than knowing that you’re waiting
There were so many jokers in the deck the two of hearts, too many cards and still dealing, still dealing
The night air’s tinged by a new chill September’s signature autographing my bare arms but I barely feel it
Let me stay by your side through winter months and country walks through rain and sleet and fog
I used to hold nothing in my hand look at the empty shape it made wondering if there was something missing something that should have belonged only me I should have belonged to something to you
I sit down into the wicker chair look across the valley below the sky is closing in the distance darkness gloves the globe again
How could I even for a moment have doubted I held the winning hand all this time
How could I even for a second doubt that I held the winning hand all along…
The city is drenched in gold tonight the sea is wrapped in silver, like my temples my hands feel older now than ever but my mind is so much surer than back when I was younger
I’ve run from love when it got tough my hair was bleached in boiling light I helped as many people as I could my thoughts were darkened in the wilderness felt alone in crowds of smiling happiness I learned to speak, to see, to feel this reality
I’ve understood, been understood I’ve compromised, been compromised I’ve judged, been judged Fairly, unfairly
There has been a heaviness in my limbs at times and there was a divine light that shone from somewhere I never knew could be in me I wronged and cheated with a pathological absence of care which boomeranged around and sunk me in the end it’s rough to open your consciousness to reality
Siblings, parents; undulating friendships the push, the pull of love and life in trying to align the poles in me I was blind, but thought I was seeing I was blank, but thought I was saying something the painted stones I carved, I threw them out to sea
I’ve deceived, been deceived I’ve contradicted, been contradicted I’ve believed, been believed Justly, unjustly
So, I take off my shoes take out my headphones I want this wave to wash all over me The short hand, the long multiplications I laid out all my working for you to see trying to crack the code of something real the combination of what is me
I’ve been taking thirty steps away from where they forged my heart I’ve been taking thirty steps toward the tide line where I etched my childhood drew a line beneath it and paused to watch…
The waves of youth lap out the waves of youth the waves the…
It’s best in the morning with no decoration only flesh and fingers reaching out It’s best in the morning sun licking through the window we’ve honestly nowhere we need to be
It’s best in the morning kitchen door open on the garden you sip your tea, strum the guitar sitting on the back step Your dark hair ruffled eyes so brown and full of wonder nowhere we need to be
“It’s best in the morning” you smile and tunefully whisper “we’re both naked in some way stripped of all distraction the love alight upon our tongues” Leaning on the counter I’m inking my clumsy lines ‘nowhere we need to be’
It’s best in the morning writing us down to preserve it I will treasure these moments forever We’re so good together with the animals at our feet all eating breakfast and nowhere we need to be…
O child, do not hasten to drop anchor I hope you live so many nights lost at sea or diving free loving by the light of the moon forever was never the point
You must not miss those smiles as wide as silver sands And kisses hotly dripping like the candle you might write by in some foreign hotel room
If you should meet them out there on your journey (and you should, you should…) I hope the sirens sing you songs of salacious shipwreck and fleshy feasts upon the rocks
If you should meet them (and you must, you must) Take those chances don’t deny this life let it be painted in such vibrant colours
Let them ruin you a while let them wreck you for a spell then piece yourself together and wind up more complete O, and tell them I say ‘hi’
Go chasing honesty, equality give and take, live wild, love free take care and move respectfully remain open to all that comes your way forever was never the point
O, they will sing some of your best lines into you There are many poems waiting You can dine upon those memories once you’ve crossed the seesaw of all your time
While you’re young with no one who depends upon then have your fun, go chase the sun Forever was never the point of life…
Too seriously I tend in my journey too easy to focus on the duty the facts of what’s in hand the doing of a thing
So precious to see the nonsense appreciate the humour the madness in everything you’re tasked with
So freeing to have a sense of silliness draw a cock and balls on your mortgage application scribble a cape and tights across the undertaker’s pamphlet
Life can feel like tumbling through grinding grey machinery without a wry eye on the daftness smirking at whatever crazed fool conceived this and those who choose to ride it all so earnestly
Your satire, your playfulness your dark sense of what’s appropriate to joke about perfectly timed skilfully placed to punctuate the blandness hacking at the horrors laughing through the banality of the day to day
Without humour we are robots in some automaton tableau zipping from thing to thing from job to job ones and zeros bobbing up and down
Every plant in our house has its own voice its own personality they have conversations with our animals all channelled through your hilarious sense of things you turn dull mornings into bright theatre just never call it ‘quirkiness’
You remind me to see the funny side keep pulling at that silly string you puncture my pomposity with a most gentle needling You’re the best medicine you’re my prescription and, among so many other reasons I love you for this…
O, I have loved you for such a long time I have held you closer than anyone and yet still we wait for something more…
O, I have been insatiable for your voice and body I have fought to keep you harder than anyone before and yet still we wait for something more…
O, you have touched me deeper, in so many ways I have worshiped you more than any god and yet still we wait for something more…
We know not if there is the possibility of some better way We’re both unsure if there could be some truer love and yet we choose to wait for something more…
[2006]
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.
Tonight, I dream of a patient love Some statue of understanding who can be quiet, reserved unveiling themselves slowly releasing what they have to offer over time building such incredibly tough bonds A love so strong it lasts forever
Tonight, I lie awake and wish for some patient love who comes to me with creativity empathy and a deeper understanding than I have felt before something more in tune with it is I long for
I only think of what is coming holding my breath for that patient love I crave an intelligence and a maturity I have not known before…
[2006]
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.
The Lighthouse 