As The Power Lines Crackle Overhead…

Too long, too long
I’ve been too proud
to belong
To let myself lay open
and love
to open myself to love
and follow the flow

But the power lines crackle overhead
as we walk below
I reach my fingers for yours
feel the sparks fly
the way they always have

Too long, too long
I’ve been too scared
to belong to one
Too envious
too greedy
to let myself just love
chase the current

But the power lines crackling overhead
told of the same story
I reach my hand towards yours
feel the sparks fly
the way they’ve always done

I can’t hide from the obvious
from the most fulfilling dream
I’ve been pretending was not mine
was not my desire
all this time
how I strove to deny my love
so foolishly

The power lines crackle overhead
it’s no shock to me at all
You reach for my hand and hold it
we feel the sparks fly
the way they always should
the way they always will…

[2019]

Thanks for reading.

Note: Written into my phone in a tent at Glastonbury music festival in June 2019.

Photo credit: https://www.larkinweb.co.uk/miscellany/fluorescent_tubes_under_power_lines.html

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I Am A Violent Man [with audio]

We scratch, I bite, you claw
the most arresting violence
I have ever known
takes place between these sheets of ours
as you growl, as I lash out
a stream of fire
I am a violent man, tonight
I am consumed by love
and lust
by love and lust for you…

Hair is pulled, skin gets grazed
as we beat against the wall
as this takes place between us
You murmur, high
Senses heightened and alive
as I spit out
a shower of crackling sparks
I am a violent man, tonight
I am birthed again
In love and lust
for you
In love and lust for you…

[2008]

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Pocketful of Rain [with audio]

What do we have
at the end of our walk
just the smiles on our faces
and a pocketful of rain

I have learned from you all
I have laughed with you all
I have burned for you all
but always, always you’ll be gone

What do we have
at the end of our walk
just the things we have shared
and a pocketful of rain

So grateful to have seen you
I’m honoured to have met you
indebted to your friendship
but always, always you’ll be gone

What do we have
at the end of our walk
just the sparks that were flung
and a pocketful of rain

All that energy we burnt through
all the ink that we spilled
all the time that we spent there
all those moments left bare

Always, always you’ll be gone again
with nothing to show
but a pocketful of rain…

[2017]

Thanks for reading.

Listen to my poems on Soundcloud
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